Epilogue
ATLAS
Two years after Room Upgrade
“Charles?” I hit the intercom to call for my assistant. He appears in my doorway.
“Yes, boss?”
“The Kellers are coming in. Mr. Keller called my cell to ask if they could swing by. Can you bring their file?”
“On it.”
“Thanks.”
I’m busy wrapping up my last client’s appointment when my phone buzzes again. Dammit. I can’t get caught up today.
I grab it absentmindedly. “Atlas here,” I answer.
“Uh, hi,” the man’s voice says. “You’re Howie Winslow’s nephew, right?”
I sit up straight, suddenly focused. “Yes. Who is this?”
“My name is Zane. I work at your uncle’s hotel. He’s, well, he’s in the hospital, and you’re his only family contact in his phone.”
“Oh no. What happened?”
“We’re not sure yet. The hospital won’t release information to us. He collapsed this morning while he was checking people in. Any way you could get out here?”
“I’ll be there as soon as possible. Where should I go?”
“Scripps Mercy.”
“Thank you, Zane.”
“Of course.”
Grabbing my computer and phone, I hustle out of my office, stopping at Charles’s desk. “I have to go. Family emergency in California. Clear my calendar the rest of the week.”
“You got it, boss. Anything else I can do?”
I rub my forehead, my mind racing. “I think that’s it, but keep your phone handy.”
“Need a ticket?”
“Ah, yes. Please book the first thing out.”
“I’m on it. I’ll text you the itinerary.”
“Perfect. Thank you.”
“Go.”
Two hours later, I’m at LaGuardia boarding first class to San Diego. I can’t bear the thought of losing Uncle Howie. He’s always been there for me when others weren’t, cheering me on in a family too busy making money to notice what their kids were doing.
We remained close even after my grandparents shunned him because of his sexuality. My own parents never cared much for him, even though my dad is his brother. I’m the only person after all these years who talks to him and visits.
I rub my forehead. I stayed away too long. The last time I was out there was two years ago. Now I might never get to see him again.
By the time I get to San Diego and grab a ride to the hospital, it’s been hours since I got the call. I walk to the front desk in the ER, noticing a group of familiar faces in the waiting area.
“Can I help you?” the nurse asks.
“My uncle was brought in. Howie Winston. I’m his nephew, Atlas. His emergency contact.”
She clicks on the computer. “He’s about to go to recovery.”
“From what?”
“Surgery. I’ll let the doctor know you’re here.”
“Thank you.”
I walk over to the waiting room.
“Are you Atlas?” a man asks.
“I am. You?”
“Oscar. Is he okay? They won’t tell us anything.”
“I don’t know. She said the doctor would come out soon.”
“I’m Fitz,” a dark-haired man says in greeting.
“Archer,” the third man greets. He’s a standout with bright-red curly hair.
I take a seat. “Zane told me he collapsed?”
The three men nod. “He was acting normal,” Oscar says. “Then, all of a sudden, he looked really pale and just slumped to the floor.”
“Jesus. Any recent health problems?”
“Not that we know of,” Fitz answers.
“He got really mad last week over a flamingo float in the pool,” Archer says. “He went to lie down for a little while after that.”
“You still have the flamingo problem?”
They all nod.
“Mr. Atlas?”
I hop out of my chair, turning to the doctor. “My first name is Atlas.”
“Ah. You’re Howie Winston’s family contact?”
“Yes, sir. Is he okay?”
“Yes, he’s resting. We found a severely clogged artery and put in a stent.”
“Heart attack?”
“No, just on the cusp. His blood pressure dropped significantly. We’ve got him stable now.”
“Can I see him?”
“You can.”
I motion to the guys then follow the doctor down the hall. When I step into the room, my heart drops. My vibrant, quirky uncle looks small connected to all those tubes and machines. I approach slowly, and when his eyes open, he tries to sit up but quickly settles back.
“At?” His voice is hoarse.
“Hey, Uncle. How ya feeling?”
“A little rough.”
“I bet.”
“How’d you get out here?”
“On a plane.”
He chuckles but flinches. “Chest hurts.”
“Take it easy. Zane called me.”
Howie shakes his head. “He didn’t have to do that. I’m fine.”
“Are you though?”
Howie turns away from me, clearly avoiding my eyes.
“Howie. Talk to me.”
If it were possible to look more pale, he manages it. After a few seconds where I can tell he’s wrestling with something, he reaches for my hand. “I have a confession to make.”
Nodding, I gently squeeze his hand. “I’m listening.”
“I can’t do it anymore, At. I can’t run the hotel.”
My brow pinches. “What? You love that place.”
He nods, his eyes turning glossy. “I do, but it’s too much. It’s failing financially. I can’t afford to fix it up, and we’re losing customers to better properties.”
“Okay. Do you want to sell?”
Howie’s face crumbles at the suggestion. He squeezes my hand even harder. “At, you’re like a son to me. You’re the only family I have left.”
“I know.”
“I need you to take over the hotel.”
I pull my head back. “What? Howie, I can’t. I don’t know how to run a hotel. Listen, we can get a good realtor to sell it and get as much out of it as we can.”
“I can’t. Those people rely on me. They’re my friends. My extended family. I can’t let them down. I already have. They barely make money, but they stay for me. I can’t turn my back on them now.”
“I live in New York. I have a career there.”
He nods, his face so sad it breaks my heart. “It was just a thought. You’re so good at anything you put your mind to.”
The door opens, and a nurse walks in. “We need to do his vitals. You’ll have to step out for a bit, sir.”
I nod. “I’ll be right outside, Howie. I’ll be back.”
I walk back to the waiting room, where more people from the hotel have shown up. There’s a woman with long dark hair holding a baby who looks just like her and two other men who look familiar. I sit in a chair as everyone watches me.
“He’s stable. Talkative.”
Relief shows on all their faces.
“How are things at the hotel?” I ask. When the only response I get is a bunch of exchanged uncomfortable glances, I continue. “That good, huh?”
“He can turn it around,” Oscar says. “The neighborhood loves the hotel. It brings customers to the other businesses. He can’t shut it down.”
“Did he say he would?”
“No, but we’re not stupid. We can see he’s struggling.”
“It’s the most important thing to him,” the woman says. “It would kill him to see it shut down.”
My stomach sours. “What needs to be done?”
“Everything,” Fitz says. “It’s worn down. There’s no money to fix it up. It’s like a cycle. Can’t get the guests in to get the revenue we need to fix it up so it’s attractive to guests.”
I turn my phone on, watching a flood of notifications beep through. All my clients want updates constantly on how much money they’re making while my uncle is clinging to his health and the happiness he feels at the hotel.
My mind wanders back to all the times Howie was there for me when my own parents weren’t.
He was the one who showed up to baseball games, not them.
He took me for ice cream when I got my tonsils out, not them.
He visited me in New York after college, and they have yet to.
Howie has always been the father figure I needed in my life.
Now he needs me to be there for him. But what do I know about running a hotel?
An aging one in need of an overhaul at that.
“Who manages the property?” I ask.
“Howie,” they answer in unison.
“Could one of you step up in his absence while he recovers?”
Everyone looks at the woman. “Me?” she questions.
“You know all the back office stuff, Lani,” Archer says. “You’re the most suited.”
Her cheeks bloom pink as she bounces the baby in her lap. “I could try. Just until Howie is better.”
Another notification buzzes in. It’s Charles telling me Janice Engle has been calling all day to see if I’ve checked my messages. Janice is my very rich, high-maintenance client, who apparently has no sympathy for a family emergency.
I like San Diego, but could I just pick up my life to come out here and fix my uncle’s failing hotel? When I look up, his employees are watching me like a litter of sad puppies, as if they can read my thoughts. Fuck, am I really thinking of doing this?
“What if I could help?”
Oscar perks up. “Really? You could get us back on track?”
“I don’t know anything about running a hotel, but I know a lot about finances. Maybe with everyone’s help, we could get there.”
Fitz frowns. “Does that mean Howie is gonna be here for a while?”
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “He’s strong, but even the strongest people need help sometimes.”
“We need it,” Oscar says. “None of us wants to lose it. It’s a landmark, and once upon a time, it was gorgeous.”
Nodding, I stand. I know what I need to do.
After checking in with the nurse, I head back to my uncle’s room. Standing by his bedside, I gaze down at him. His eyes flutter open and he smiles.
“You’re still here.”
“Said I would be.” I brush his white hair from his forehead. “Are you sure you’re ready to step back from the hotel?”
He nods. “I have to if I want to see it thrive. I have some places I want to see before it’s all over for me. This was my wake-up call.”
“I’ll do it.”
The words tumble from my lips before I can second guess myself.
Howie gasps. “You mean it?”
“I do. I need some time to wrap things up in New York.”
He frowns. “I have thirty days to pay some back taxes before there’s a lien.”
“How much?”
“Twelve thousand.”
“Jesus, Howie.”
“I know.”
“Does Lani know where to find that information?”
“No. I hid it from her. The notice is in the top drawer of my desk, under the folders.”
“I’ll take care of it. I’ll stay in town until you get out. I can handle some of my business from here.”
“I can’t thank you enough.”
“You don’t have to. You’ve always been there for me. Here’s my chance to be here for you.”
I walk out of his hospital room in stunned disbelief.
What the hell did I just sign up for?