The cold wind cut through Richard’s worn coat as he pulled it tighter around his body. His breath came out in white clouds, and each step felt heavier than the last. For weeks now, he had been walking into every office of his company, but not as the man everyone once bowed down to. Not as the wealthy owner they used to greet with champagne and smiles.
No—now, he was just “Richie,” a homeless man looking for a little warmth.
He had disguised himself on purpose. Six months earlier, Richard had learned he was dying. With no family, no children, no one to inherit his life’s work, he wanted to see if anyone in his company still had the values he had built it on. But office after office had failed him. They treated him with cruelty, with indifference, with disgust.
This branch was his last hope. And it was personal.
It was managed by Tom—the very young man Richard had mentored since his university days. Richard had poured his knowledge into Tom, guiding him through the business world, almost like a son. Now, Richard was about to discover if his years of mentorship had meant anything.
As Richard neared the glass doors, lost in thought about the grand welcomes of his past, a man suddenly bumped into him.
“Watch where you’re going, you bum!” the man snarled before storming into the building.
Richard didn’t react. He had heard worse these past weeks. Once, he had been Richard—the man people respected. Now, he was Richie—the man people insulted.
Shivering, he pushed open the office doors. Inside, the warmth wrapped around him like a blanket, but it came with suspicious stares. He walked to the security guard at the desk.
The guard’s eyes narrowed, scanning Richard from head to toe. “What do you want, bum?”
Keeping his voice calm, Richard said, “I just need to warm up and maybe get something to eat.”
The guard scoffed. “This isn’t a shelter. Get out.”
Richard tried again. “Could you call Tom? He might help me.”
That made the guard laugh harshly. “Tom? He’ll throw you out faster than I will. Trust me.”
“Please,” Richard said quietly.
The guard groaned and finally picked up the phone. While waiting, Richard’s eyes drifted toward a comfortable couch nearby. He took one small step, but the guard barked, “Don’t even think about it. Stay where you are.”
Richard stepped back, lowering his head.
Just then, a young woman entered the lobby. She greeted the guard cheerfully, but her eyes quickly fell on Richard. Her smile faded into concern.
“Sir, are you alright?” she asked gently. “Do you need help?”
Richard hesitated. “I just need to warm up, maybe get something to eat. Some water, if possible.”
Without a word, she pulled a bottle of water from her bag and handed it to him. “Here, take this. You can come with me to the office. We have food there.”
Richard looked at her, surprised. “But it’s your water.”
“It’s fine,” she said firmly. “Please, come.”
Before he could move, the guard stepped in front of them. “Tom said no one comes in without his say-so.”
The woman frowned. “But this man just wants to eat. What’s your name, sir?”
“Richie,” Richard replied softly.
“Richie just wants to eat,” she repeated.
The guard folded his arms. “Tom’s on his way. Until then, this bum isn’t going anywhere.”
Her eyes flashed with anger. “He’s a person just like you and me. Why should he be treated differently?”
The elevator dinged, and Tom stepped out, irritation written all over his face. “What’s going on here?” he demanded.
Richard spoke first. “Good afternoon, sir. I just wanted to warm up and have something to eat.”
Tom’s lip curled. “Do I look like a soup kitchen? Get out. Now. What if a client sees a bum hanging around? You’re bad for the company’s image.”
The young woman stepped forward. “But Tom, he just needs food—”
Tom cut her off sharply. “And what’s it to you, Lindsay? You’re just an assistant. Go back to work.”
“It’s Nancy,” she muttered, but Tom ignored her.
“Guard, throw him out. And you—” he jabbed a finger at Nancy—“follow me.”
As she passed Richard, she whispered quickly, “Go to the back entrance. I’ll take you to lunch.”
Moments later, the guard shoved Richard outside, the cold biting into him again. But Richard didn’t despair. He walked around to the back, where, true to her word, Nancy appeared with a warm smile.
“Let’s go. There’s a small restaurant nearby. Nothing fancy, but the food’s good,” she said.
As they walked, Richard whispered, “I don’t even know how to thank you… Nancy, right?”
She laughed softly. “Yes. Though Tom calls me a new name every day. Yesterday I was ‘Linda.’ He says it’s easier. But no thanks needed. Really.”
Inside the little restaurant, the waiters glanced at Richard with suspicion, but Nancy didn’t care. She led him to a table.
“Order whatever you want. My treat,” she said, sliding him a menu.
Richard raised his brows. “Do they pay you so well that you can buy meals for strangers?”
Nancy sighed. “Not really. When I applied, Tom promised me a high salary. Later, he said it was too much for someone fresh out of university. But… money isn’t everything. My grandmother always said, ‘Kindness is its own reward.’ And I believe that.”
Richard clenched his fists under the table, furious at Tom. But when Nancy apologized nervously for “maybe sounding insulting,” Richard reached across the table.
“It’s alright. Your grandmother was a wise woman,” he said.
Nancy smiled, ordered food for him, and even packed extra for later. Richard’s heart warmed. For the first time in months, he felt hope again.
The next morning, when Nancy walked into the office, the atmosphere was tense. Colleagues whispered in hushed voices.
“What’s going on?” she asked one of them.
“Didn’t you hear? The company owner died. No one knows who inherits now,” the colleague whispered. “Tom thinks it’ll be him. He’s practically celebrating already.”
Just then, the elevator opened. The company lawyer stepped out, carrying a thick folder. Tom rushed forward eagerly.
“Finally! You’re here. Let’s talk about the transition—”
But the lawyer brushed him off. “I’m not here for idle talk. I need to see Nancy.”
The whole office froze. All eyes turned to her.
“M-me?” Nancy stammered.
“Yes. Are you Nancy?”
“Yes…”
“Then we need to speak privately.”
In the conference room, Nancy’s hands trembled. “I don’t understand. What’s happening?”
The lawyer opened his folder. “Congratulations, Nancy. You’re the new owner of this company.”
Her jaw dropped. “WHAT?!”
He slid the papers across the table. “Richard signed everything before his passing. All you need to do is finalize with your signature.”
“But… why me?” she whispered.
The lawyer pulled out a sealed letter. “He left you this.”
Nancy tore it open, eyes scanning every word.
The Letter:
“Dear Nancy,
Six months ago, I learned I was dying. I had no children, no family to carry on my company. I decided to visit every branch disguised as a homeless man. I wanted to see the true character of those working for me—not how they treated the owner, but how they treated someone who had nothing.
I was disappointed. Office after office rejected me. But then, I met you.
Your kindness restored my faith. You have a heart full of compassion and a spirit of integrity. These matter more than money or experience. I trust you to lead with kindness and wisdom.
Yours truly,
Richard (or as you knew me, Richie)
P.S. Your first job as the new owner—fire Tom. And when you do, call him Timmy.”
Nancy laughed through her tears, clutching the letter to her chest.
Outside the conference room, Tom waited with a smug grin—completely unaware his world was about to crumble.