back him to the fullest so we can share his glory when everybody ends up living happily ever after."
"Everybody except his daughter," Cynthia said.
"I expect he'll try his hardest to make sure you're happiest of all."
"He never has before."
"I think he has. He just didn't realize he was doing it the wrong way."
"Daddy always thinks he knows the answer."
"Not any more."
Cynthia didn't look convinced.
"All he's asking is that you give him the same chance to show he's changed the other kids are giving their parents. Remember, he's the one who organized this weekend. Don't you think that's a good sign?"
"Of course she does," Leigh said. "I've offered to trade fathers any time she's ready."
"It's not just that," Cynthia said. "There's the baby and everything else."
"We can't fix everything at once," Kathryn said. "For the weekend, concentrate on restoring communication, getting to be friends again, learning to trust each other. Don't you want things to work out between you and your father?" she asked when Cynthia vacillated.
"Yes."
Kathryn feared Cynthia had planned how she thought everything should go and wasn't sure she wanted to risk this new development. Kathryn couldn't be sure whether Cynthia was afraid to try for fear she'd be hurt again or fear she'd lose control over the situation.
"Then you'll really do your best to help him this weekend. And not just with the others. He wants to help them, but it's you he's really concerned about."
"Okay," Cynthia said, "but I'm not going to believe things just because he says them. He's going to have to show me."
"Fair enough," Kathryn said. "Now I'd better go, or I won't be ready on time. I have a feeling your father wouldn't appreciate that."
"Yes, he will," Cynthia said. "Dad always says a person's appearance tells more about him than the words that come out of his mouth. Greg, that's his secretary, says he can spend hours deciding what to wear for an important first meeting with a client or the first time he comes to the negotiating table. We might end up waiting on him."
"Wouldn't they listen to anything you said?" Ron asked Ted.
"Nothing," Ted replied.
"You showed them the results of the poll?"
"They said they had more scientific polls that said just the opposite."
"Have you seen their polls? Do you know how they gathered the information?"
"Yes. They're skewed in the directions they thought the government wanted."
"Did you tell them?"
"Yes, but they didn't believe me. They said Americans will do or say anything for the sake of money."
"The Arneholdts are behind this."
"How do you know?"
"It's not cheap to convince a respected polling company to falsify its results. You've got to find proof. Hire investigators if you have to."
"That's not the only reason they're still refusing the merger," Ted said.
"What is it?"
"You've always conducted merger negotiations personally no matter how long it takes. They say your being in America shows you don't think it'll succeed so there's no point in wasting your time."
"I've been back three times since we started."
"Apparently that's not enough."
"Did you tell them I have personal business I can't ignore?"
"I don't think they believed me. Everybody knows this is the first time you haven't conducted all the negotiations yourself."
Ron was painfully aware of this. He could only assume none of them would have allowed a family crisis to keep them away from their work. He was also aware his absence was injuring the negotiations to the point the merger might fail.
"Tell them I'll be back on Monday," he said. "In the meantime, see what you can dig up on the Arneholdts. If it comes out the government is being manipulated by this family, they'll be falling over themselves to vote for the merger to save their political necks. You can do this without my being there. I'll call you early tomorrow."
Ron turned off his cell phone. He'd reached a crossroads, a moment of decision he'd never expected to face. His whole life had been directed toward stockpiling so much success it would force others to acknowledge his achievements. Most important of all, it would force people at the highest levels of society to accept him and his daughter as peers.
That goal had never changed, could never change, as long as he remembered the years when he was ignored, looked down on, pitied, even despised merely because he didn't have money, the proper background and social experiences. He felt as if he'd spent his entire life being invisible, performing herculean tasks without anybody noticing. He realized it wasn't an admirable goal, not