Five years after Holloway’s removal, most new employees knew the story only in fragments.
Some knew that a former manager had stolen from staff.
Some knew that the chairman once came in disguised.
Some knew Hannah had given him an umbrella.
Rosa hated the way the story grew more dramatic each time a new employee told it.
“I heard he slept behind the dumpster for three days,” a trainee once said.
Rosa nearly dropped a stack of towels.
“He was in the rain for maybe an hour.”
“The story says three days.”
“The story is stupid.”
Another employee said, “I heard Mr. Brooks was wearing a hidden camera in his hat.”
“He was not wearing a hat with a camera.”
“Are you sure?”
“I gave him soup. I saw the hat.”
The myths annoyed her, but one part stayed correct no matter how employees embellished the rest.
Hannah had helped a stranger because he needed help.
Luis had refused to treat him like garbage.
Rosa had fed him.
They had done those things before they knew his name.
That was the only piece Samuel cared about.
Hannah eventually became general manager of the Asheford Grand after Denise moved into regional operations. Her promotion came four years after the storm night, after she had made enough mistakes to understand the job and enough corrections to trust herself with it.
On her first day, Samuel called.
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
“Do you feel ready?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“That is not comforting.”
“People who feel completely ready for power are usually the ones I worry about.”
Hannah laughed. “Any advice?”
“Yes.”
She waited.
Samuel said, “Do not make people afraid to tell you you’re wrong.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s enough to ruin a career if you forget it.”
She wrote the sentence on a card and kept it in her desk.
Luis retired two years later.