"Make it go away," Dallas pressed.
"You're talking nonsense." Eli shook his head slowly, as if Dallas wasn't making a bit of sense. But he was. Just like he'd told Jane, he was certain this was the way. Hell, it was the only way.
"It's not nonsense," he continued, trying to keep his voice calm. Rational. His dad was a businessman after all, so Dallas needed to approach this as if it were a deal. An offer on the table for a move that might be risky, but in the end could make all their stock go up. "We'd need to file a petition in the same court that entered the adoption order, and we'd both need to consent along with Mom, but if--"
"And pile on even more embarrassment? Make us even more of a laughingstock? Drag this family even deeper through the mud than you already have?"
With each word, Dallas felt his temper flare even as he seemed to sink farther and farther into himself.
"Absolutely not," Eli said finally. "Out of the question."
"Dammit, Dad, this isn't about public relations. It's about your children. About our lives. Let us be free to love each other."
"I've already answered that question."
"You're punishing me--punishing us--because we fell in love."
Eli cocked his head and looked straight at Dallas, nailing him with the no-nonsense glare he used so often in the boardroom. "No, son. I'm punishing you because you acted on it."
I'm driving to the studio where Joel keeps his production office when Dallas calls to tell me that all did not go well with our father. And though I can't help but be disappointed, I am not surprised. Rescinding the adoption would be the perfect solution for us, but for Eli Sykes, it would be admitting he'd made a bad decision.
And while my father is more than willing to change course when it comes to business, he's not so swift to own up to mistakes where his personal life is concerned.
I tell Dallas as much, and he reluctantly agrees, though there's no denying the disappointment that colors his voice.
I'm disappointed, too, of course, but I think I'm less surprised. I know Dallas believed that faced with the choice of being selfish or helping his children, Eli would come out on our side. But it's only been a day since I walked into my birth father's cell. A man who did the most heinous thing possible to his child, and for purely selfish reasons. So nothing much shocks me anymore.
"Do you want me to cancel my meeting? I can go back home and we can do whatever it takes to make you feel better. Whatever it takes," I repeat, purposefully injecting a lascivious tone into my voice.
As I'd hoped, he laughs. "That sounds wonderful, but you need to see Joel. Besides, one of us needs to have a meeting today that doesn't go south."
"Does that mean things with Damien went badly, too?"
"No, no. Everything is fine on that front. In fact we're thinking about flying out to Riverside to look at the actual production facility. They have a working prototype that I'm anxious to see. But that will put me home late. I hate to miss our dinner."
"Don't be silly." He'd suggested we go out tonight, but it's not as though the LA restaurants are going away any time soon. "We can have the champagne and caviar on the back patio, then maybe watch a romantic movie, and then who knows where the night will lead..."
"I like that plan," he says. "I'll call when I'm getting close. Your day is going okay?"
"So far, it's perfect. Don't jinx me."
"Wouldn't dream of it," he says. "I love you," he says, and I'm amazed at how much depth and emotion can fill three little words.
I'm still smiling when I hand the security guard my ID and he lifts the gate to let me onto the lot. Joel's office is in the back, behind a section of false-front houses that represent a neighborhood I've seen on some television sitcom, but damned if I can remember which one.
I park, square my shoulders, and head inside.
Despite Dallas's prediction that my meeting will go better than his, I'm not holding my breath. On the contrary, I'm prepared for Joel to be overly conciliatory and Lyle to be full of excuses. I don't expect either one of them to actually call me a pariah, but I'm certain that's what they'll both be thinking. And I'll have to smile and nod and pretend like I'm doing just great despite the fact that this amazing career opportunity is crashing down around my ears because the press has decided to get all up in my personal life.
That's what I anticipate, and I'm even ready for it, so I march into Joel's office with my back straight and my loins girded, whatever the hell that means. Bottom line, I'm ready to take the punches and roll with them.
But the blows never come. On the contrary, we really do talk about the script, just like Joel had promised. Both men are friendly and businesslike. I take notes, we discuss changes, argue about character motivation, and ponder combining or cutting a few scenes to make the overall story flow better.
In other words, there's nothing personal or unprofessional at all--and I get no indication that Lyle is pulling out of the project.
I'm relieved, and also a little baffled. So baffled, in fact, that when Joel checks his watch and says that we have to wrap because he has a dinner meeting in Santa Monica, I blurt out, "But what about--"
I cut myself off, realizing that perhaps it's not the best strategy to remind Lyle he was supposedly pulling out.