A few minutes later, his father’s eyes fluttered open. Myron felt the tears push back into his eyes as he looked down at the man he treasured like no other. Dad looked up with pleading, almost childlike confusion.

Dad managed to utter one word: “Brad . . .”

Myron bit back the tears and prepared to tell the lie, but Mom put a hand on her son’s arm to stop him. Their eyes met.

“Brad,” Dad said again, a little more agitated.

Still looking at Myron, Mom shook her head. He understood. In the end, she didn’t want Myron to lie to his father. That would be too much of a betrayal. She turned to her husband of forty-three years and held on to his hand firmly.

Dad started to cry.

“It’s okay, Al,” Mom said softly. “It’s okay.”

Epilogue

Epilogue

SIX WEEKS LATER

Los Angeles, California

Dad leaned on his cane and led the way.

He had lost twenty pounds since the open-heart surgery. Myron had wanted him to use a wheelchair to get up this hill, but Al Bolitar would have none of that. He would walk to his son’s final resting place.

Mom was with them, of course. And Mickey too. Mickey had borrowed a suit from Myron. The fit was far from perfect. Myron was last in line, making sure, he guessed, that no one fell too far behind.

The sun beat down at them with a fury. Myron looked up and squinted into it. His eyes watered. So much had changed since Suzze had first come to his office for help.

Help. What a joke when you thought about it.

Esperanza’s husband had not only sued for divorce, but he was indeed going for sole custody of Hector. Part of his claim was that Esperanza kept long hours at her job, neglecting her maternal duties. Esperanza had been so freaked out by the threat that she asked Myron to buy her out, but the thought of working at MB Reps without Esperanza or Win was too disheartening. In the end, after much discussion, they agreed to sell MB Reps. The mega-agency that bought it decided to merge companies and get rid of the MB name.

Big Cyndi was using her severance package to take some time off and write a tell-all memoir. The world awaits.

Win was still in hiding. Myron had only gotten one message from him in the past six weeks—an e-mail with a short, simple message:

You are in my heart.

But Yu and Mee are in my pants.

Win.

Terese, his fiancée, was still not able to leave Angola, and now, with all the sudden changes in his life, Myron couldn’t go back there. Not yet. Maybe not for a very long time.

As they neared the burial plot, Myron caught up to Mickey. “You okay?”