He set the paper down.
“That culture ends today.”
A woman from events began crying silently.
Ethan continued.
“I don’t care if a guest arrives in a tuxedo, a hoodie, scrubs, a military uniform, or a paint-stained work shirt. If they have a reservation, they get service. If they do not, they get respect.”
He turned toward the staff hallway.
“I don’t care if an employee works the penthouse bar or scrubs toothpaste out of a sink. If they work here, they are part of this hotel.”
Lupita stood in the second row.
Her chin trembled.
But she did not lower it.
Ethan pointed to the front desk.
“Last night, one person in this lobby understood hospitality. It was not the general manager. It was not the front desk. It was Lupita Hernandez.”
A few people began clapping.
Then more.
Then the whole staff area filled with applause.
