Chapter 2

Evan was a good son, despite having a wild streak. His parents loved him, he'd always known that, and almost whatever he wanted, he got. A Porsche for his 16th birthday. His own well-appointed home at 18. He could do or be anything he wanted to be, but when he reached that magic number, his father asked only one thing of him: that he go to college, take a business track, and learn what he needed to know to take over the hotel when he was gone. But Evan didn't want the family business. He wasn't good with numbers and details of running a hotel. He worked with his hands, fixing up cars with his friends, and sometimes that involved going to the seedier side of life and seeing how the other half lived. As long as his parents were financing his life, he didn't have to worry about being one of those people who had none of the advantages he had.

Life was perfect, because, despite his parents' disapproval, he knew he was loved.

"Evan, please come home. Now. It's important."

By the tone of his mother's voice, he knew something serious happened. Dad had been sick for awhile, but she said he was getting better. He'd been working at the hotel, so he must have been responding well to the treatments. Evan parked in the circular drive, not caring that he did a terrible job. He entered the house and found his parents in the bedroom.

"Dad." Evan came forward and sat on the edge next to his mother. He took his hand, and it was so cold he almost pulled away.

"Son, I've always loved you." Every word came out soft and trembling.

"I know, Dad. I love you too." His voice cracked as tears blurred his vision.

"Take care of your mom. Make sure she's not alone too long." He paused. "And learn the business. For me."

"Okay, Dad. I will. I promise."

Those were the last words his father heard.

After the chaos of hundreds of people visiting them for days on end and the funeral, Elsa and Evan had only each other to cling to until the pain eased. But one thing never changed.

"You promised your father that you would take over the business," she said to him as she sat in her husband's chair at his desk in his office. "You have to go to school so you can take over in a few years!"

"Mom, I only said that to make him happy. I don't wanna run a hotel!" As he spoke, he moved around the large space, waving his hands in the air. "This isn't my thing, it never will be. You've got a head for it, Mom. You should keep running it."

"I'll be right there beside you for the first couple of years and slowly move everything over to you." She stopped him with her hands on his shoulders and a tender smile. "This was so important to your father, can't you see that? How can you dishonor him now by going back on your word? You're going to Yale. You've been accepted and you'll start in the fall."

"Mom!" It pained him to see the hurt in her eyes. But no amount of freaking out or browbeating was going to change either of their minds.

"No arguments, Evan! You gave him your word, and you are not going to spit on his grave by backing out."

She was right. During all the disagreements about his career choice, one thing always came through in his father's lectures: no matter what, your word is your bond. If you don't follow through on your promises, you're bankrupt, and not financially.

"Okay, I'll go."

He lasted one semester, but he didn't tell his mother that. While she thought he was learning how to be a businessman the Yale way, he was living it up. It was easy when the credit cards had no limit. He worked for cash at garages wrestling with anything from an air filter on a Yugo to a fuel injection system on a Lamborghini. He loved every second of it. But he missed home. He missed his mother, even if she did constantly nag him about taking over the business whenever they talked on the phone. Finally, his love for her won out and he admitted the truth. He returned to Miami. By then, she was seeing some guy with a goofy name. Sam Axe. Was that for real? At least the guy took the heat off him. She was too busy playing around with her boy toy to worry about her son.

He moved back into the house, found himself a job he liked but paid very little, and went about as if nothing had changed. He lived life, partied, and gambled to the hilt. It was the gambling that got him into trouble. That and his mother finally deciding to cut him off to let him sink or swim.

"Evan, I love you, but I can't watch you do this to yourself."

"This is about the hotel again, isn't it, Mom."

"No. Although I'm disappointed in you for that, this has nothing to do with whether or not you take over the hotel. You need to grow up, Son, and the only way I can see that happening is if I let you survive on your own. You can stay in the house, but as far as everything else, it's your responsibility."

Desperate times called for desperate measures.