342 - The Door Left Open

"Mom! Why are you home?"

Crystal grabbed for the blanket as Liu Xiaoli stood in the living-room doorway. Her mother's eyes went from her to Ethan and back again. For one suspended second, nobody moved.

"Could you please go?" Crystal said.

"Of course." Xiaoli pulled the door shut behind her.

Across the hall, a neighbor had heard the shout and opened her own door. "Liu? Is everything all right?"

"Yes. My daughter's boyfriend is visiting. You startled me, that's all."

The woman understood at once. "Then I'll leave you to it. Young people don't always remember how sound carries."

Xiaoli managed a smile until the neighbor was gone. Ethan's message was still on her phone: Come home. It's urgent. Crystal had bought her a concert ticket to keep her out for the evening, and he had brought her back in time to see exactly what her daughter had tried to conceal. Xiaoli knew him well enough to doubt it was an accident.

A few minutes later Crystal called her inside. Ethan was buttoning his shirt with an infuriating lack of haste. Crystal had changed and could barely look at either of them.

"I'm hungry again," he said after an uncomfortable silence. "Anything left from dinner?"

"In the refrigerator," Crystal said. "I'll heat it up."

The moment she went into the kitchen, Xiaoli stepped away from him. "You did that on purpose."

"Did what?"

"You told me there was an emergency."

"You came home. I wanted us to stop pretending you didn't know about her and me."

"You didn't have to make her feel exposed to do it. Go home, Ethan."

"This house was bought with my money."

"And it's in Crystal's name," Xiaoli said. "Ask her whose home it is."

He had no answer that would improve the moment. Crystal's footsteps sounded from the kitchen. Before she returned, he lowered his voice. "I'll leave after I eat. We still need to talk."

"Not tonight."

"I'll be here a little longer," he said, and took the plate from Crystal when she emerged.

They sat through the meal and then turned on the television because none of them wanted to name what had just happened. The second season of The Voice was playing. Xiaoli pulled a chair away from the sofa; Ethan and Crystal sat together, though Crystal kept glancing across the room.

Last year the producers had chased contestants. This year, auditions had to be screened before the judges ever saw a singer. The American edition had become an international business too. Broadcasters in Canada, Europe, Australia, and parts of Asia had licensed local versions, with fees negotiated season by season. Ethan's people estimated the first wave of deals at more than $400 million. It was the kind of number that sounded imaginary until the contracts were put in a binder.

Sponsors had arrived early. Pepsi had committed $80 million, outbidding a $60 million proposal from Coca-Cola. Pepsi's marketing team still talked about Michael Jackson drinking from a bottle during last season's finale. He had said nothing about the drink on air; the camera had done the work for him. Whether that appearance had shifted market share as dramatically as the executives claimed, the company had paid to keep its place.

Michael was not returning as a coach. A successful American tour and a new worldwide arrangement with Universal had taken over his calendar. Celine Dion, Janet Jackson, and Jay-Z were back. Sting had joined them in the vacant chair.

Crystal recognized him as soon as he appeared. "Wasn't that his song at the end of Leon: The Professional?"

"Shape of My Heart," Ethan said. "And he had a career before that, with the Police."

"I know who the Police are." She nudged him with her shoulder.

"You used to talk about making a record," he said. "Still interested?"

"Mom had a plan for that. She thought music would make people notice my acting. I don't think I could outsing half the contestants up there. I'd rather learn to act well."

Xiaoli looked at the television. She had spent years arranging every possible opening for her daughter. Crystal was old enough now to reject some of them.

"What about Warner?" Crystal asked. "I saw that the deal closed. Did Disney try to stop it?"

"They tried to slow the review. So did some people inside Warner." Ethan set down his glass. "The board wanted the sale; the regulators had questions about the market. We answered those questions, and MGM owns the studio now."

"You make it sound easy."

"It wasn't. Most of the other companies knew what an extended fight would cost them. Disney was the one with something to gain by dragging it out."

"Did everybody agree with you?"

"Not on paper." He saw Xiaoli's expression and knew she had caught the implication. "There's a difference between people reaching the same conclusion and anyone promising to cooperate. Counsel made sure the record reflected the deal we actually proposed."

That was the version he could say in front of Crystal. Privately, he knew how close the industry's shared interests had come to an understanding no one wanted written down. He was pleased with the outcome, not innocent of the method.

MGM intended to keep the old Warner marks on the films that had carried them for decades. New productions would be organized under the combined company's release plan. Ethan spoke of finally having Friends in MGM's library and then of Disney's parks, which he considered the next large piece of the market to challenge.

"Fifty-one billion is still hard to imagine," Xiaoli said.

"The library and distribution network are worth more to me than another year's earnings," he said. "Add DC's existing characters, television, games, and merchandise, and there's a business that runs well beyond the box office."

He did not tell them the full version of what he imagined. Marvel and DC films would feed merchandise through Hasbro and Dualstar, with Facebook and YouTube amplifying each launch. Parks could turn a hit into something a family visited, bought, and talked about for years. He wanted so much of that chain under one roof that a regulator might eventually ask whether competition had any room left. Ethan saw that as a problem for later.

Crystal fell asleep against him before the program ended. Xiaoli stayed awake. When Ethan carried Crystal to her room, she followed as far as the hall.

"You should leave," she said quietly.

"We have unfinished business."

"Not while she's awake."

He glanced toward Crystal's closed door. "I told you I'd give her a place in my life. I never promised she would be the only woman in it. She'll have to decide whether she can live with that."

"You promised her more than a vague place."

"I meant to keep the promise. I can also put a small stake in the Warner operating company in her name, if the board approves the transfer. She'd have something of her own."

"Don't call that a gift when you're asking me to sell her on your other relationships," Xiaoli said.

He didn't deny it. She hated herself for asking the next question. "How much?"

"Enough to matter. And it depends on whether you help her understand the life she's choosing."

Xiaoli's hand rose, then fell. He had managed to turn a promise to her daughter into a negotiation with her. Ethan left her in the hall and went back to sit with Crystal until she was fully asleep.

Later, Xiaoli's bedroom door stood open. She was waiting by it, fully dressed, her arms folded.

"We can talk," she said. "You don't get to make promises for me or for her."

They spoke in low voices after he stepped inside. Xiaoli knew what he was trying to get from her, and she did not agree to speak for Crystal. She closed the door anyway. They spent the night together; he was gone before morning.

Crystal woke to find the other side of her bed empty. She checked the bathroom, then crossed the hall and knocked on her mother's door.