"This lobby is for paying guests only," Julian snapped, his voice sharp and dismissive. "Out. Before I have private security toss you into the alley."
Standing a few paces away was Toby, a nineteen-year-old bellhop wearing an oversized green service jacket. Toby had been on his feet for eight hours, earning minimum wage to help pay for his younger sister's medical treatments, but he still held onto the principles his late mother had taught him. Seeing the old man shivering violently, his lips tinged with blue, Toby couldn't stand by.
"Sir, come with me," Toby said softly, stepping around the counter.
Ignoring Julian's glaring glare, Toby guided the frail elder to an armchair in the corner lounge, shielded from the cold drafts of the front entrance. Toby swiftly draped a warm, thick wool blanket over the man's trembling shoulders.
"Stay here," Toby murmured gently, adjusting the fabric around the man's neck. "Stay here. You're freezing."
Julian’s heavy leather shoes clicked sharply across the marble as he marched over, his face flushed red with indignation.
"I told you to send him out!" Julian barked, pointing an accusatory finger toward the revolving door.