I am Hollywood

[Chapter 997: Is He That Kind of Person?]

It was already mid-summer, and it wasn't even 8 AM yet, but the sunlight streaming in through the window already carried a hint of warmth.

Marissa Mayer brought two breakfast plates into the living room, setting the tray down on the round table by the floor-to-ceiling windows, and glanced outside unconsciously.

This apartment was Eric's top-floor penthouse located at the entrance of Sixth Avenue. He hadn't returned to stay there this week, so the apartment had become the 'employee benefit' for his two female assistants.

From the lofty height of over 200 meters, the sun had risen high, like a blazing mercury lamp hanging in the azure sky. Below stretched much of New York City surrounded by water, and close by, Central Park unfolded in her view, looking unusually spacious surrounded by the towering buildings.

Gazing at the scenery, Mayer took a deep breath, daydreaming just a little about when she could buy a similar apartment for herself one day.

After a brief moment of dazed thinking, Mayer left the window and moved to the study on the upper floor, where Caroline was busy organizing files, with the fax machine and printer buzzing away.

It was June 15th, a Monday.

Eric was scheduled to fly to Helsinki, the capital of Finland, that morning. It was the start of a new week, and many things needed Eric's attention. Caroline and Mayer were therefore faced with a mountain of work.

Mayer greeted Caroline, finished binding a document that had just printed, and placed it into a folder. She then looked over a page of forms just faxed over, and remarked, "Second weekend at $42.03 million, a 43% drop -- pretty good. The cumulative box office has already reached $153 million in ten days."

Caroline knew Mayer was referring to the second weekend box office information for The Day After Tomorrow. She moved her mouse around on her laptop and printed another document while confirming, "Of course, that's a script written by Eric himself. Mary, could you pass me that gray folder?"

Hearing the admiration in Caroline's voice, Mayer smiled, handing over a folder. "But I've always been curious why Eric decided to sell the rights for the The Matrix sequel. With just five days to go until The Matrix Reloaded premieres, pre-sales for the midnight shows are already nearing $5 million. The global box office for this sequel could likely surpass the first one."

Caroline explained, "Eric didn't like the Wachowskis' sequel script, and there were some other reasons too. If you were paying attention back then, you'd know it was, well, complicated."

Mayer was aware of the conflicts between the two creators and Firefly and the protests from fans about the interference with the Wachowskis' creative process that followed the release of The Matrix. "If it were me, I wouldn't sell it for anything. The impact of The Matrix has extended beyond just the film itself. Keeping control of that series could even elevate a studio's overall strength."

Caroline, who had entered Eric's assistant office when Firefly sold the rights for the sequel, was quite clear on the situation, as Eric had discussed it with her previously. If it were any other studio facing a franchise as iconic as The Matrix, they surely wouldn't sell so easily. However, Firefly didn't lack blockbuster franchises to represent its image.

Still, Caroline had no intention of forcing Mayer to agree with her. Eric had once mentioned that trying to convince others to agree with him over trivial matters was quite boring. Though Caroline thought Eric was just lazy, over time, she gradually adopted some of his lifestyle habits. "Mary, let's hurry up and organize things; we have to go to the airport soon."

Mayer nodded, not pushing further, and started to help Caroline busy herself. She knew that her relationship with Caroline couldn't be as close as it was with Melanie. As she took another document from the printer and bound it, Mayer still voiced her thoughts, "I wonder what Eric's doing right now?"

Caroline hesitated momentarily, a look of mild distress crossed her face, and she attempted to appear nonchalant as she replied, "Who cares? He's a bad guy."

...

At that moment, Eric was in Greenwich Village, in the XC district.

Compared to the high-rise apartment at the entrance of Sixth Avenue, the red-brick apartment nestled among a few trees had the morning light just right in its second-floor dining area.

Most fall dramas were in the preparatory stages, but reality shows had already begun early production. Eric had taken time yesterday to check the progress of the new season of America's Next Top Model and Project Runway. He had dinner with Cindy Crawford and Linda Evangelista the night before, and now he was here.

This was the apartment Linda bought a few years back for $2.8 million. On the outside, it seemed like an ordinary three-story red-brick building, but the inside was a spacious duplex with exquisite decor, featuring a small rooftop garden. In recent years, as the American real estate market quickly revived, the value of this apartment had reportedly doubled.

At the dining table, Eric quietly watched Linda, who was excitedly flipping through a copy of VOGUE magazine while eating breakfast. Suddenly, Linda, with slight indignation, remarked, "I think I can never let you in again. You always drag me and Cindy into your shenanigans. It's gotten out of hand."

Without looking up, Eric nodded slowly, a broad gesture that lacked sincerity as he agreed.

Linda waved her spoon in exasperation but did not throw it. Instead, she turned to Cindy, seemingly trying to get her on her side.

Cindy, elegantly tearing a piece of bread and taking a small bite, shot her a disdainful glance. "Eric and I didn't even want to come here. Don't tell me you don't remember what happened last night."

Linda's expression grew awkward. She could only recall fragmented images, muttering, "That's the problem. I rarely got drunk before; he must have been up to something."

"You mean he got you drunk on purpose to get you into bed?" Cindy pointed at Eric with a grin, "Do you really think he's that kind of person?"

"Do you still think he's a good guy?"

"Of course not, I mean, he wouldn't go to such trouble."

Eric finally lifted his head, exasperated. "Shouldn't you discuss this privately behind my back?"

Linda glanced over. "Oh, so you know it's embarrassing?"

"Yeah, I'm utterly ashamed."

"Hmm," Linda let out a light snort, realizing that continuing this topic in front of Eric would lead nowhere. "Hey, are you leaving New York today?"

Eric nodded. "The noon flight."

Hearing Eric mention the flight, Linda suddenly remembered something. "Last time I went to Long Island, I saw your private airport under construction. Can I borrow your private jet sometime?"

"Sure," Eric replied readily, "but there's one condition."

"Hmm?"

Eric said earnestly, "Any woman wanting to use my private jet must either be my woman or part of the lace club. You get to pick."

"I choose the lace club," Linda decisively proclaimed, leaning toward Cindy, "Cindy honey, let's share a kiss."

Cindy didn't mind, skillfully kissing Linda's red lips as she continued eating.

The sight of the two stunning women kissing, albeit a casual brief moment, was still quite pleasing. Eric couldn't help but nod and chuckle, "Alright, keep it up."

Linda giggled a couple of times, carefree, while Cindy merely rolled her eyes at Eric.

The two women had work to do, so after enjoying their breakfast filled with laughter, the three left Linda's apartment together.

...

Eric wasn't in a hurry; he kindly dropped the two women off at their workplaces before heading to Long Island MacArthur Airport.

MacArthur Airport sat in central Long Island, about seventy kilometers from Manhattan. It was a typically congested Monday morning, and by the time Eric reached the airport, it was nearing noon. Caroline and Melanie had already arrived early.

After a simple lunch at a nearby restaurant, Eric boarded the Boeing 767. This journey was a direct flight to Helsinki, where he would handle business with Nokia before heading to London.

The distance from New York to Helsinki was nearly 7,000 kilometers, and at the cruising speed of the 767, the flight would take about ten hours. With the time difference, they would arrive in Helsinki at six in the morning. Although it was early, Finland, being close to the Arctic Circle, was in its longest daylight season.

"Eric, here's the box office information from the past weekend; this is the final character list for Sleepy Hollow; the set in the little town of Sleepy Hollow in the UK has nearly been completed, and Mr. Burton will be flying to the UK on Wednesday for pre-production; and this is the last batch of stock transaction reports for Clover Fund; oh, and this is the recently drafted financing plan from Los Angeles..."

Once the private jet was smoothly flying, Caroline laid out a pile of documents in front of Eric.

However, seeing the tense look on Mayer's face and hearing Caroline's serious tone, Eric realized that possibly not returning to his apartment all week had upset her. It seemed his little cousin was a bit unhappy and moody.

Pressing the latest script of Enemy of the State under his arm that Caroline handed him, Eric looked at her and coaxed, "Hey, when we get to Finland, I'll take you to the Arctic Circle to see the Northern Lights, how about that?"

Caroline blinked back, "Right now, it's the midnight sun in the Arctic. No Northern Lights."

Eric slapped his forehead. "Oh, I forgot about that. Then we'll explore Helsinki; you can play tour guide for me."

Caroline rarely turned him down, saying, "No, I still have work to do."

*****

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