the effects of parental
discord on children. Dermot was forbidden from playing outside after that,
trapped in a state of house arrest for over a month until the reporters and
photographers finally disappeared.
He had vowed as a child that he would never endure that
particular hell again. His conduct as an adult had conformed with that vow, so that while he’d had his share of articles and photo spreads about
his personal life, especially after that most eligible bachelor nonsense, he’d
never suffered through another tabloid feeding frenzy.
Most of his adult life, he corrected. His trip to
Ireland had touched off a flurry of irrational behavior. First his telling the
men he’d gone leprechaun hunting with about his affair with Tami. Then having sex with a dryad. Confessing his sexual desires
to Eileen, and having unprotected sex with her.
His stomach clenched. He hadn’t used a condom this
morning, either. And the last time they’d made love, it had been in the
standard position that could easily have gotten her pregnant.
A sudden babble of voices recalled him to the meeting.
Sara had concluded her presentation, and the other attendees were now adding
their own comments.
Royce glanced his way and frowned. “You look concerned,
Stone. Do you see a problem with Sara’s proposal?”
“The proposal is fine. I said as much during our prereview .” And thankfully he had reviewed Sara’s material
once before, since he’d paid absolutely no attention during her presentation.
“But there’s a difference between a proposal and an executed campaign. I’ll
reserve judgment until I see how it all plays out.”
Royce didn’t look happy with Dermot’s answer. And why
would he be? Dermot had practically shoved the publicity campaign down his
throat, and now he was backing off his support.
Sara regained the meeting’s momentum like the trooper
that she was. “That’s a valid concern, Mr. Stone. And why we’re here today, to
hammer out the details of the execution. Ms. Lyons, after hearing the
presentation, which sections of the proposal did you feel most comfortable with?”
“I liked the idea of applying ancient wisdom to modern
situations. In fact, as soon as you said that, I had an idea. Women are so
often called upon to play the role of wife, mother, and caretaker of elderly
parents. Many times, they feel guilty about taking time for themselves, and end
up neglecting their needs in favor of others’. Or else they overcompensate and
always put their own needs first, with no regard for how their actions affect
those that rely upon them. One of my religion’s central beliefs crystallizes
how to balance those two extremes—do what you want, so long as it causes no
harm.”
Sara scribbled frantically. “Oh, yeah. That’s good. We can run with that.”
Dermot leaned back in his chair, stunned. How could he
have overlooked something so incredibly simple? In all of his plans and
deliberations, his schemes to get Eileen to come to him or his resolve to have
nothing more to do with her, he had not once asked what she wanted. Oh, he’d
considered her wants. How else could he have baited his trap with this
publicity campaign? But he’d never simply come straight out and asked her.
God, he was a fool.
He entered the discussion, offering his full range of
experience and support. He’d make sure Eileen had every opportunity for a
successful publicity campaign. If she chose not to go through with it, that was
one thing. But he wouldn’t cripple the campaign before it started , simply to make things easier for himself. That would run
counter to her prime dictate, and he was gaining more respect for that
philosophy every time he heard it.
* * * * *
The meeting broke up an hour and a half later. Dermot
stood immediately.
“Ms. Lyons, if I might have a word with you?”
“Certainly.” Her cheeks glowed,
and sparks glimmered within her eyes.
The other attendees slowly filed from the room, most
telling Eileen
discord on children. Dermot was forbidden from playing outside after that,
trapped in a state of house arrest for over a month until the reporters and
photographers finally disappeared.
He had vowed as a child that he would never endure that
particular hell again. His conduct as an adult had conformed with that vow, so that while he’d had his share of articles and photo spreads about
his personal life, especially after that most eligible bachelor nonsense, he’d
never suffered through another tabloid feeding frenzy.
Most of his adult life, he corrected. His trip to
Ireland had touched off a flurry of irrational behavior. First his telling the
men he’d gone leprechaun hunting with about his affair with Tami. Then having sex with a dryad. Confessing his sexual desires
to Eileen, and having unprotected sex with her.
His stomach clenched. He hadn’t used a condom this
morning, either. And the last time they’d made love, it had been in the
standard position that could easily have gotten her pregnant.
A sudden babble of voices recalled him to the meeting.
Sara had concluded her presentation, and the other attendees were now adding
their own comments.
Royce glanced his way and frowned. “You look concerned,
Stone. Do you see a problem with Sara’s proposal?”
“The proposal is fine. I said as much during our prereview .” And thankfully he had reviewed Sara’s material
once before, since he’d paid absolutely no attention during her presentation.
“But there’s a difference between a proposal and an executed campaign. I’ll
reserve judgment until I see how it all plays out.”
Royce didn’t look happy with Dermot’s answer. And why
would he be? Dermot had practically shoved the publicity campaign down his
throat, and now he was backing off his support.
Sara regained the meeting’s momentum like the trooper
that she was. “That’s a valid concern, Mr. Stone. And why we’re here today, to
hammer out the details of the execution. Ms. Lyons, after hearing the
presentation, which sections of the proposal did you feel most comfortable with?”
“I liked the idea of applying ancient wisdom to modern
situations. In fact, as soon as you said that, I had an idea. Women are so
often called upon to play the role of wife, mother, and caretaker of elderly
parents. Many times, they feel guilty about taking time for themselves, and end
up neglecting their needs in favor of others’. Or else they overcompensate and
always put their own needs first, with no regard for how their actions affect
those that rely upon them. One of my religion’s central beliefs crystallizes
how to balance those two extremes—do what you want, so long as it causes no
harm.”
Sara scribbled frantically. “Oh, yeah. That’s good. We can run with that.”
Dermot leaned back in his chair, stunned. How could he
have overlooked something so incredibly simple? In all of his plans and
deliberations, his schemes to get Eileen to come to him or his resolve to have
nothing more to do with her, he had not once asked what she wanted. Oh, he’d
considered her wants. How else could he have baited his trap with this
publicity campaign? But he’d never simply come straight out and asked her.
God, he was a fool.
He entered the discussion, offering his full range of
experience and support. He’d make sure Eileen had every opportunity for a
successful publicity campaign. If she chose not to go through with it, that was
one thing. But he wouldn’t cripple the campaign before it started , simply to make things easier for himself. That would run
counter to her prime dictate, and he was gaining more respect for that
philosophy every time he heard it.
* * * * *
The meeting broke up an hour and a half later. Dermot
stood immediately.
“Ms. Lyons, if I might have a word with you?”
“Certainly.” Her cheeks glowed,
and sparks glimmered within her eyes.
The other attendees slowly filed from the room, most
telling Eileen
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