Chapter 372: Chapter 96 What’s going on?!
Adrian had just finished speaking when Simpson had not yet replied, but Harvey Weinstein’s eyes lit up first.
“I have no doubt about that, so Don must recover as quickly as possible, and there are even more outstanding movies waiting for you.” He spoke rapidly, his expression tinged with excitent.
Although “The Rock” couldn’t make it for the Thanksgiving to Christmas release period due to post-production issues, it was already scheduled for the New Year’s release slot. Whether it was internal or public screenings, it had received positive reviews on the comrcial front. The Weinstein brothers might have started with independent films and built quite a reputation, but if it weren’t for Adrian’s ergence, Miramax’s prestige would have been a notch higher by now.
But their ambition was not limited to this, becoming a major company that stands shoulder to shoulder with Hollywood and the Seven Major Film Companies was their goal. Otherwise, why would they constantly want to invest in big productions? Now that Adrian had given them this opportunity, and given how optimistic they were about the comrcial prospects of “The Rock” from the internal screenings – after all, the Weinstein brothers had been struggling in Hollywood for over a decade and certainly had an eye for potential – coupled with the continuous praise following the screenings, they naturally wanted to redouble their efforts.
“Don’t worry, Harvey, there will be plenty of opportunities in the future, right, Don?” Adrian chuckled to himself and then joined in reassuringly.
Continuing the collaboration with Simpson and Brokheir was also a good thing. As ntioned before, although Brokheir had an exceptional eye for comrcial rhythm, which earned him the title of Gold dal producer, he wasn’t quite like Simpson when it ca to pursuing comrcial value while also catering to mainstream societal tastes. Adrian was curious to see what certain movies would turn out like with Simpson’s involvent and wouldn’t mind guiding Michael Bay along as well.
Michael Bay was a decent director, but once he also took on the role of producer, he tended to get carried away, fully embracing his style without considering other factors. However, as he climbed the ladder of success, asking for the power of a producer was sothing every well-known director did, so one could only hope he would learn sothing from Simpson, who held higher clout than Brokheir.
Of course, so movies were better off unchanged; Simpson also had his weaknesses. These all needed careful consideration and balance.
“Of course, there will be plenty of opportunities in the future.” Simpson replied with a smile, aware that Adrian had warned him more than once about his drug problem. This near-death experience also made him appreciate the preciousness of life, and he felt sowhat grateful. Besides, Adrian’s current reputation was soaring whether in directing, producing, or other areas, and Simpson had no reason to refuse.
Even if they spoke vaguely, the matter seed to be settled. After a few more words, Adrian began to look around distractedly.
Weinstein noticed his state and teased, “Alright, it seems Ed’s attention has shifted elsewhere. Let’s not keep him any longer.”
He winked at Adrian, a touch of envy in his expression, and the others imdiately laughed knowingly. Simpson, probably because of his recent rest period, had no clue what was going on, but after Brokheir whispered to him, he quickly caught on and shared their amusent.
“Harvey is right, we can’t keep you, Ed. Go ahead,” he said with a chuckle.
Shaking his head in amusent at the group, Adrian walked directly towards another side of the hall. Today’s cocktail party was not held in anticipation of “The Rock’s” upcoming release. Today’s cocktail party…
“Hey, Gwyneth, you look really beautiful today.” He approached the tall lady dressed in a white long-sleeve evening gown.
“Oh, Ed, you’ve finally decided to co over.” Gwyneth Paltrow turned around, her face beaming warmly at him, with a charming and seductive smile.
The two n who had been chatting with her wanted to say more, but seeing this scene, they imdiately realized they had no chance. However, it didn’t stop them from shifting their attention to Adrian, knowing full well that any man who could be treated so intimately by a beautiful woman like Gwyneth Paltrow must be soone special.
“I’m delighted to et you, Mr. Adrian,” said Paul Hanson.
“Hello, Mr. Adrian, I’m Karl Dreyfuss.”
The two n began introducing themselves. Adrian nodded politely, shook hands with them, and exchanged pleasantries. One was an agent, while the other was an actor under his care. Although Adrian had not heard of their nas before, he didn’t show impatience or disdain. This is one of the fundantal etiquettes of socializing. Even those with good upbringing, who might deeply disdain soone else, would never let it show on their face.
Hanson and Dreyfuss were also tactful enough to know that Adrian and Gwyneth had matters to discuss, so after a brief chat that left an impression, they quickly excused themselves and left.
“How many groups has that been?” Adrian called over a waiter carrying a tray, took two glasses of champagne, and teasingly asked.
“You’ve been watching over here the whole ti; you should know,” Gwyneth shrugged, her smile mischievous, curly golden locks cascading down her shoulders, enhancing her delicate features.
“Congratulations, Gwyneth,” Adrian raised his glass, then feigned a sigh, “You’ve got it easier than right now, the critics are saying my latest movie is completely insincere.”
Gwyneth giggled at his affected dismay, “Oh, co on, Ed, that’s just a small portion of them; everyone knows they’re nitpicking.”
“But I still feel unlucky,” Adrian lanted, spreading his hands innocently.
Truth be told, he had been quite unlucky. When directing “Braveheart,” he’d been careful to fix many of the original’s flaws, aside from certain essential elents, such as the Scottish kilts, which, as British film critic Johnny Stanley pointed out, were to distinguish the characters. Or Isabelle’s age, which was for Sophie Marceau, and further enriching the character of William Wallace.
Still, since it was his first ti directing ancient warfare scenes, slip-ups were inevitable. That particular criticism about the helt appearing and disappearing within a scene – after reading the critique, he reviewed it himself and realized it was barely twenty seconds long, and nowhere near as problematic as the original’s scene with spontaneously appearing and disappearing swords. And yet, this single error had been blown out of proportion as if the entire film was riddled with such mistakes.
However, he had to admit that Mr. Stanley had a thorough understanding of Hollywood; at least the satirical description of Isabelle that followed was indeed from the original plot, and Adrian had laughed heartily when he had read it.
“In that case, should I be sighing and lanting alongside you?” Gwyneth said with a wink, pretending to commiserate.
“Oh, certainly not, darling, you should be happy today. You know this is your very first Best Actress nomination,” Adrian said with a smile.
Indeed, it was her first Best Actress nomination, but not for the Oscars, for the Golden Globe Awards. The Golden Globes always announce their nominations in mid-December, and this ti Gwyneth had made the list for “Emma.” However, it wasn’t what Adrian had ant; he had intended to secure an Oscar nomination for her with the powerhouse that is “Titanic,” but Miramax had submitted it to the Golden Globes, and after a public relations campaign, she’d acquired the nomination.
Gwyneth had been thrilled upon hearing the news, so Adrian had gone with the flow and held a celebratory party, even though it was Harvey Weinstein’s own initiative to do so. Still, getting a nomination was not a bad thing. Although the Golden Globes weren’t as prestigious as the Oscars, they were more reliable than other various association awards and served as valuable recognition.
Of course, actually winning wasn’t necessary; Gwyneth was a bit too young. Although Adrian believed that if given the task, with the Weinstein brothers’ PR abilities, Laverne’s support, and his own resources, the odds were over 90%, sticking one’s neck out too far wasn’t always a good thing. Besides, the Golden Globes were already widely criticized in this regard, and it would negatively impact Gwyneth’s future if she were to be rashly involved.
These thoughts Adrian certainly wouldn’t voice now. Instead, he linked arms with Gwyneth, their glasses in hand, and they retreated to a quiet corner for an affectionate chat.
“Dad and Mom called right away to congratulate , and I hadn’t even reacted at the ti. I was just humming and hawing on the phone. Looking back now, I realize how silly I was,” Gwyneth said excitedly, her cheeks flushed from the champagne, her eyes betraying a slightly tipsy haze.
“It’s pretty normal. I felt nothing when I heard from my subordinate that I had been nominated for the best director Oscar; it took a while to rember where I had heard the na ‘Oscar’ before,” Adrian shrugged.
“Of course, you had won so many honors before the Oscars that it must have seed easy for you,” Gwyneth said, looking at him playfully. Then her voice softened, and her gaze turned misty, “I love you, Ed, you’re really charming and still so talented, but sotis I hate you too.”
“Why?” Adrian asked knowingly, raising an eyebrow. Before Gwyneth could answer, a familiar voice reached their ears, “Do you even need to ask?”
Kate Blanchett appeared before them in a pink, floor-length dress. Her similarly golden hair was cut a little shorter and styled straight, giving her a spirited appearance that contrasted with the dress, adding a distinctive charm. Especially with the high slit of her dress, nearly reaching her thigh roots, exposing her long legs in a way that made one’s imagination dangerously wander. She too held a champagne glass with an ambiguous smile, her cheeks flushed as well, showing she’d had her fair share to drink—and looking quite enticing indeed.
“Hey, Kate, so glad you could co to the celebration party,” Gwyneth said, quickly moving closer to Adrian and emphasizing the words “celebration party.”
“Oh, of course, you did perform splendidly in ‘Emma,’ Gwyneth,” Blanchett responded with a smile, “It would have been terrible if Ed hadn’t chosen you for the leading role.”
Gwyneth’s face slightly changed color, though not noticeably, and she maintained her smile, “Perhaps, but I’m still envious of you, Ed went to great lengths to invite you for the female role in ‘Speed.'”
Blanchett bit her lip lightly, a subtle gesture that only Adrian noticed, including Gwyneth.
“That’s true, I can still recall the sincerity of Ed’s invitation,” she said, her grey-blue eyes glancing towards Adrian, offering a different allure than Gwyneth’s hazel-green.
“Yeah, so we both got great roles, didn’t we?” Gwyneth smiled slyly, mixed with a hint of contempt.
Watching the two won spar verbally, Adrian inwardly sighed. He had noticed Blanchett while talking with Weinstein and others earlier but had been primarily focused on Weinstein, Gwyneth, and not so much on Blanchett, who could hide herself well, leaving mostly just a glimpse of her from the back. Adrian hadn’t been sure she would actually show up, but there she was.
“Okay, beautiful ladies, let’s change the subject,” Adrian finally intervened, breaking up the verbal duel that was about to escalate further.
“I’m a bit tired, Ed. How about we find a place to rest for a while?” Gwyneth made a scoffing gesture towards Blanchett, then spoke softly, linking her arm through Adrian’s.
“I have so important things I’d like to discuss with you, Ed. Perhaps we could go outside for a walk?” Blanchett casually brushed the hair by her ear, her nonchalant air dripping with allure.
This was essentially forcing Adrian to make a choice, but was he easily dealt with? He coughed lightly and said in a serious tone, “I have a permanent suite at the top of this hotel; the elevator goes directly up. Maybe we could all go up there to talk?”
After these words, both won showed a look of surprise. This invitation could be very ordinary and normal, or it could be very special and unusual.
Anger flashed across Kate Blanchett’s eyes and vanished; she was on the verge of refusal, but the sight of Gwyneth fueled another surge of fury from within. Gwyneth was clinging onto Adrian’s arm, her entire body pressed against his, and she wasn’t hiding the smug provocation on her face.
As Kate recalled the various comparisons drawn by the dia, the resentnt and anger that had built up over ti completely shifted targets. The effects of the alcohol further altered the words she had intended to say.
“I’d be delighted to join,” she declared, puffing out her chest with her chin held high in a proud, queenly manner.
————————————————
Kate Blanchett’s eyelashes fluttered as if she were hovering between consciousness and unconsciousness. She slightly moved her body, stark naked under the sheets, and then moved her arm. A whisper arose near her ear—soft yet inexplicably seductive, accompanied by the feeling of smooth tenderness in her hand.
Subconsciously, she gave a squeeze, and the volu of the whisper increased. The groggy Kate lifted her head with eyes still closed, instinctively seeking the source of the sound and using her mouth to silence it.
But as her senses grew clearer, she sensed sothing was off—how could the body of the person be so soft? Especially when she tried to roll over and press down on them, the sensation against her chest felt strange. At this thought, Kate hurriedly opened her eyes, and the other person seed to have realized sothing and opened theirs as well.
The room was dim, but it was already daylight outside. Making use of the light filtering in, they finally saw each other’s faces and both exclaid, pushing away and leaning back. Then, Kate’s back collided with a solid chest, followed by a familiar, teasing voice, “Hey, babes, calm down, will you?”
“Ed?” Kate asked in disbelief before Gwyneth, not bothering with clothes, got up from the floor and drew the curtains open.
The dazzling sunlight stread in. Kate squinted, blocking it with her hand before she adjusted to the light; then, wrapped in the sheets, she sat up, looking bewilderedly at a similarly confused Gwyneth, who was kneeling on the ground with the sheet pulled to her chest, wearing nothing, and a grinning Adrian propped up semi-reclined.
“What’s going on here?” Kate eventually asked, though a glance around the room gave her the answer.
The room was a ss; not to ntion the clothes littering the floor and the furniture that was haphazardly moved. Just the sight of the tangled ss of the large bed beside them was enough to know what had happened last night.
“Ed! What the heck is this?” Kate bellowed angrily at Adrian.
“Just as you see,” Adrian spread his hands, “I suppose you haven’t forgotten, have you?”
He twirled a finger around his temple, “Think back, Kate. You should be able to rember.”
Kate took a deep breath, forcing herself to suppress her rage as she searched her mory. She recalled how Adrian, when she and Gwyneth were verbally sparring, had invited them to talk in his hotel’s rooftop room. She knew the implications, and although she had wanted to refuse, Gwyneth’s provocation made her impulsively agree.
But she knew she had no such intentions; her plan was simply to defeat the opposition and then send her away. She was also certain that Gwyneth must have thought the sa. But how could…
Suddenly, a certain image from the previous years flashed into her mind, and Kate trembled, her cheeks flashing red and pale in turns. (
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