Free The I.P.O. by Dan Koontz

of his third month in the orphanage.  One new tidbit of information would arrive one day without another word for two or three days, followed by three emails in one day.  The "Ryan emails" became an obsession.  Sara and Thomas both found themselves checking their messages first thing in the morning, all throughout the day, during meals, and even in the middle of the night if they had to get up for one reason or another.  The fit seemed perfect, and by the end of the three weeks, they were committed – ready to do whatever it took to bring this incredible boy home with them.
    The final hurdle would be an interview with James Prescott, who would personally fly to Cleveland to meet them.  Sara had heard of him; Thomas knew the name well.  In the financial world, half seemed to think he was a genius, and the other half a sociopath.  Oddly, nearly everyone who had actually met him was in the former camp.  He was recognized globally as a master fund-raiser and negotiator.
    Having earmarked Sara and Thomas’s application shortly after it had been submitted, Prescott had been pulling the strings behind the scenes all along, carefully orchestrating the logistics of the adoption.  The couple was perfect, and they were obviously already sold.  All he had to have them do now was sign the papers.
    The negotiations, however,  were far more intense than Prescott had envisioned, forcing him to book a last minute hotel room in Cleveland in order to meet for a second day.  The actuarial tables and financial incentives did not impress the Ewings who wanted significantly more parental control.  Prescott, on the other hand, wasn’t willing to consider giving away any more decision-making capacity than was outlined in the original agreement. 
    In the end, only one person was unwilling to back away from the negotiating table, and that was Sara.  Once both men realized this, the conclusion was foregone. 
    In the spirit of compromise, and mindful of the need for a positive long-term relationship, Prescott conceded a few minor points that had to do with vacation time and giving Sara and Thomas durable power of attorney for healthcare.
    Within a week, Ryan came home.
     
    ~~~
     
    “We’ve got a few other minor issues to deal with here,” Prescott said casually.  “His parents sent a permission slip for swimming – as legal guardian I signed off on that.  And one for soccer, which starts in the fall.  I declined to sign off on that...”
    “What’s wrong with soccer?” one of the executives interrupted.  “All my kids played it.”
    “Repetitive head trauma,” J.R. chimed in.
    “No!” another member of the board scoffed, rolling his eyes.  “Seven-year-olds don’t get head trauma playing soccer!”  Then he turned to Prescott, “Are you just saying no because you can?”
    A lengthy pause followed the pointed question.
    “Do you have a favorite wine?” Prescott asked contemplatively to no one in particular yet grabbing the attention of the entire board.  He had pushed his chair back from the table and appeared to be staring off at some distant building in the skyline.  “Mine’s pinot noir, specifically Burgundy.  It’s a fickle grape – very hard to grow.  Winemakers call it the headache grape – nothing to do with hangovers; it’s just very difficult to grow.”
    He stood and began a slow waltz around the table, gradually looping back around toward the head, telling his story as he walked.  “To make the perfect pinot noir you first need a great vine from great stock – and the clones from Burgundy are the best.  But the best wine grapes don’t grow in ideal conditions.  Far from it.  They need some stress – struggles to overcome!  The soils in Burgundy are ugly gravelly clay and limestone with no trace of the dark, fertile topsoil you’d see in a nursery.  The weather can be harsh with freezing cold winters, frequent spring hail storms, and hot summers.
    “But ahh, those grapes that do