Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 84000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Avril looks at me like I’m the stupidest man ever to have lived. “Maybe being a partner at Goldman isn’t what she wants. Ever thought about that?”
“Oh right,” I say. “Loads of people turn down that opportunity.”
“No, you’re right. If you’ve put in loads of time and effort, sacrificed family and friends, relationships, vacations and holidays for two decades, you’re probably not going to turn it down when it’s offered. But maybe she doesn’t want to pay the price of partnership.”
I make another mental note to talk to Poppy about how things are going at work. She’d said something at Thanksgiving, but I just thought it was normal complaining about work.
Avril swipes the screen again and reads aloud the bio under her headshot. “Avril is the creative director of the hotel. She’s gradually learning all aspects of hotel management with a view to becoming the manager.”
“You’re at Columbia for economics,” I say, incredulous. “You want to become a hotel manager?”
She sighs. “You’ve always worked so hard for us, Worth. Poppy and I see it, and we’re so grateful. You’ve done it our entire lives. And it’s not just about becoming the businessman you are today—you’ve worked hard at trying to get us to succeed, too. You’ve worked hard at keeping our family together. But it’s time we shared the burden. This hotel would be a central point where we can all come together. You as owner, Poppy as chairman and finance director. Me as manager—one day.” Her eyes go glassy as she speaks. “It means we’ll all be in each other’s lives forever.”
I’m stunned into silence. I’m completely and utterly floored. I always thought Avril thought of me as an interfering, overbearing father figure. I assumed she’d want space, not the exact opposite.
“I want this hotel to be our family legacy. Not death. Not grief. Not survival.”
How can I say no to that?
“I know I could stay at Columbia and finish out my degree, but honestly, I have almost two years to go. And in two years, I could have learned so much. I thought I could go to Boston to work in your hotel there. Or I could ask Bennett or Jules if I could work at their place while I help oversee renovations on Ninth Street.”
“I’ll need to think this through,” I say. “And I need to talk to Poppy.”
She nods enthusiastically, like she’s willing a yes out of me.
“You know Mark Zuckerberg dropped out of Harvard. And Bill Gates,” she says. “And Ben Affleck, although—”
“Quit while you’re ahead. And anyway, dropping out of college doesn’t mean you’re going to become successful. They’re the exceptions, not the rule.”
“We’re exceptions. Poppy, you, and me. You’ve achieved so much, Worth. But most of all, you protected Poppy and me. I know we don’t talk about it a lot. But we would be in very different places in our lives if it hadn’t been for you.”
I take in a steadying breath. She’s right—we don’t talk about how bad it got with Mom after Dad’s death. How I learned to make dinner by watching the Cooking Channel, how I faked Mom’s signature on permission slips, the excuses I’d make up for her not attending soccer matches and ballet recitals. “Maybe,” I say.
“I remember, Worth,” she says. “How you’d make me my lunch. How you’d come to my gymnastics class and pretend Mom was in the parking lot making a call when the other moms asked you where she was.”
I swallow. “It was a long time ago and we’re all in different places now.”
“Because of you,” she whispers.
“So, what’s this hotel thing? You’re trying to repay me or something? You don’t owe me anything.”
“That’s the best part of you. You did everything to keep our family together and you never talk about it, never throw it in our faces. You’ve never asked us for anything. You just keep giving more. I would never try to repay you, because I know that’s the last thing you want. What I can do is my part to keep us together, just like you’ve done for so many years. I think this hotel would be the embodiment of that. A central place of connection for the three of us.”
“Let me guess: you’re thinking you could be my eyes and ears on the ground at Ninth Street during refurbishment, while simultaneously learning about the hotel business?”
She’s no poker player. Her smile says she’d agree to anything right now. Seeing her happy like this shifts something in me. Yes, I want her to get her degree, but I never went to college until business school. It didn’t do me any harm, even if I was one of three people in the history of the school who didn’t have an undergrad degree before doing the MBA.
“Absolutely,” she says. “I’d really like to be involved with the renovations. And the design process. I know I’m no architect or designer, but I can see space. And I have a really cool vision for the look and feel of the place.”