I am Hollywood

Chapter 547: Chapter 548: Kill Bond



[Chapter 548: Kill Bond]

Eric thought it had to be that film, Revenge of the Musketeers, and said, "If you're not happy, then don't take it."

"You make it sound so easy. I still have to make a living, you know? If I don't act when I'm unhappy, then I can forget about acting again in the future," Sophie teased Eric, seemingly forgetting her earlier words.

As they passed a streetlight, Sophie danced lightly on her short shadow, her high heels clicking against the cobblestones with a series of bright taps. The hem of her light blue dress billowed in the light, occasionally revealing a glimpse of her delicate, fair calf.

Eric felt a flutter as he watched Sophie's childlike movements, thinking back to that spirited girl from La Boum who hadn't really grown up, but had learned to compromise. He wondered whether that was a pity.

After a few jumps, Sophie naturally stepped to Eric's right side.

Looking at her lovely face beside him, Eric suggested, "Why don't you come to Hollywood? I can introduce you to some movies."

Sophie turned to Eric and remembered that this young man was the hotshot boss of Firefly Films and the director behind a string of global hits. However, she had yet to collaborate with Hollywood and found it hard to feel the kind of awe she had around Frederick Brown from TF1. The actress hesitated for a moment, noticing Eric's gentle smile. Suddenly feeling more relaxed, she said, "Well then, tell me what the movie is. I won't act in anything I'm not interested in."

Eric recalled his earlier conversation with John Calley at the restaurant and replied, "How about a Bond girl?"

Sophie immediately scrunched her face in disdain. "That guy who can charm women and save the world?"

Eric chuckled, "Yeah, that guy. Interested?"

Sophie drew out her words, "Not interested~~."

"Don't be so absolute. Why not give it a try? You could be the most beautiful Bond girl ever," he encouraged.

"If I'm going to act, I'll be the villain who kills Bond and destroys the world," Sophie said, flashing a mock fierce smile that didn't quite fit her naturally artistic and melancholy features.

"Alright, you can be the villain then, killing Bond and destroying the world."

Sophie stared at Eric for a few seconds, surprised. "Are you serious?"

Eric nodded solemnly, "Of course. Do I look like I'm joking?"

"Never mind," Sophie replied, her cheeks surprisingly reddening. Even under the dim streetlight, it was obvious. She tossed out her words in a flurry and then shot Eric a sharp look. "You charming flatterer, I won't fall for your tricks again."

"But I really am serious about this," Eric said innocently. "Before I met you, I was just discussing the 007 series with MGM's John Calley. MGM might be introducing both a good and a bad Bond girl in the latest installment. If you're interested, I can recommend you to play the villain Bond girl."

Sophie realized Eric wasn't joking. Remembering her overly sensitive reaction, she felt a bit embarrassed. She mumbled a few hesitant affirmations and subconsciously quickened her pace toward the steps leading away from the Seine. Watching her retreating figure, Eric chuckled and hurried to catch up.

Once off the riverbank, Eric noticed Sophie standing at the roadside waiting for a taxi. He approached her gently, "Why don't I give you a ride? It's hard to catch a cab at this hour."

Sophie sized him up, noticing he was alone, and smiled, "How are you going to take me home?"

Eric flashed a confident and slightly mysterious grin. "I'll perform a magic trick for you." With that, he raised his right hand and snapped his fingers with practiced ease. Sophie looked on, a mix of anticipation and curiosity shining in her eyes.

And then...

Nothing happened.

A peal of mischievous laughter quickly floated through the dim streetlight.

"Ha ha, ha... Alright, Eric, it's getting late. I need to go home."

Just then, Sophie spotted a taxi approaching from a distance and raised her hand, only to be stopped again.

Eric pointed to a black car that had pulled up nearby. "Look, my ride is here."

As the black car came to a halt in front of them, the driver exited and respectfully opened the door.

Eric nudged Sophie gently. Unable to think of a suitable excuse to decline, she slipped into the back seat without hesitation. Eric climbed in from the other side and asked, "I still don't know where you live."

Sophie shot him a glance and intentionally spoke to the driver in French, then smugly nodded toward Eric.

...

After some time driving down Avenue De New York, the black car turned onto a northwestern street and wove through Paris for a ten-minute ride before stopping in front of a typical five- story European-style apartment.

Sophie bid Eric goodbye and politely thanked the driver. She hopped out and ran toward the apartment entrance, while Eric instructed the driver with a few words before getting out himself.

With a swift motion, Sophie punched in the access code on the gate. Just as she was about to push open the heavy metal door, she was startled by the appearance of Eric beside her. "What are you doing?" Sophie instinctively panicked, protecting herself with her small hands. Eric smiled innocently. "Sophie, I'm thirsty..."

Sophie couldn't help but laugh but quickly composed herself, glaring at Eric. "Eric, can you think of a more ridiculous excuse?"

Eric pointed toward the car that had just left in a hurry. "Well..."

Sophie watched the black car disappear around the corner, suddenly feeling he had found a reasonable excuse. She pushed open the iron gate to let Eric in, but not without warning, "You drink your water and then leave."

"Of course."

"And don't get any ideas."

"I swear."n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

"That doesn't sound sincere at all."

"I swear to God."

"Please, what if God decides to punish me too?"

"I'll make sure He only punishes me."

"Smooth talker."

In the narrow hall of the apartment, the two exchanged playful banter in whispers as they quickly disappeared around the corner of the stairs.

...

Within a short week, waking up twice in the arms of a man she didn't quite know, Sophie felt a wave of shame wash over her regarding her fall from grace.

Yet, she still didn't understand why being with this man made her so easily succumb to temptation. With Eric, she felt an unusual comfort; he seemed to read her thoughts easily. Even if they had occasional disagreements during their conversations, those differences were starkly defined. Eric never tried to persuade her to see things his way; he seemed to understand right from the start that she hated people who lectured.

Though they had known each other for less than a week, it felt like he'd known her for years. Sophie recalled how Eric first spoke to her, saying, "I feel like I've known you in a past life, so

I came over to say hi."

On this fresh and sunny summer morning in Paris, in an apartment in the sixteenth arrondissement, Sophie suddenly thought maybe he was telling the truth.

How silly.

Though she found her thoughts ridiculous, Sophie curiously turned her body to investigate while he slept. Yet as soon as she flipped over, she was met by Eric's bright eyes.

"You're awake?" Sophie tried to sound calm.

Eric sensed her slight tension and asked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Sophie gently shook her head. "You should go."

Eric reached for his watch on the vanity and saw it was still before eight o'clock. He snuggled

back into bed, pulling Sophie closer and rubbing his chin against her round shoulder. "It's

early, sleep a bit longer."

Sophie opened her mouth to reply but abandoned her thoughts, recalling she had no work today. She comfortably leaned into Eric's embrace, adjusting in order to rest her head on his

arm.

...

They snuggled together like two mice in winter, and after who knows how long, they both woke up simultaneously.

Eric sniffed the air, detecting a faint smell of toast. He perked up, "Am I just hungry or is there

really something cooking?"

Sophie smiled lightly, "There's a bakery nearby downstairs. I'm hungry too; you should get

up and buy us some bread."

Eric began to bargain immediately. "I don't speak French. You go."

"You can't speak French, but you can at least use francs, right?"

Eric buried his head deep into her fragrant pillow, continuing to whine, "I'm a big shot, I

never carry change."

Sophie, both amused and annoyed, pinched Eric lightly, then climbed out of bed. She padded

barefoot to the closet, casually found a loose pink outfit, and dug a few bills from her wallet. Slipping on her fluffy slippers, she headed for the door.

Watching Sophie's figure disappear, Eric lazily stretched and slowly began to get dressed

himself.

Then, after a simple breakfast, Eric found himself being kicked out again.

Oddly enough, he felt as though this hadn't been the first time.

Of course, Eric could empathize with Sophie's conflicting emotions. His memory remembered that after finishing La note bleue in 1991, she hadn't worked with Zulawski for a decade. Although their relationship had started to fade, much like how Sophie directed that film about love becoming a habit, they hadn't formally broken it off; it had become a routine. From studying Sophie's past performances, Eric knew she would spend most years drifting in Hollywood; he now aimed to move her there two years ahead of Braveheart.

It was easily within his reach, and Eric sensed Sophie wasn't resistant to the Hollywood

invitation, or rather, to his personal invitation.

...

Back at the hotel, after meeting with Chris to finalize a few things, Chris formally submitted

an all-cash acquisition offer to Nokia's management team in Finland for its mobile

communications division.

As expected, Nokia's management promptly rejected Firefly Investments' plan, offering instead to sell 20% of the Nokia Group's shares in exchange for $250 million in development funds. The deal differed significantly from Eric's expectations, but he understood that just like Firefly's acquisition proposal, Nokia's offer was merely a probing one. Both parties' bottom lines would need long negotiations to clarify.

Once official discussions began, Chris didn't stay in Paris but traveled to Helsinki with Firefly's acquisition team. Eric remained in Paris but kept in close contact with Chris. Additionally, it surprised Eric that the proposal he presented during the meeting with Marcel Novare of Lyon Credit Bank and MGM's John Calley that night met with unanimous opposition from all European film powers. The reason was quite evident: even though Eric's proposal looked promising, nobody was willing to step into MGM's mess.

Over the years, aside from a few lucrative capital operations under Kirk Kerkorian, MGM hadn't delivered any noteworthy results. Kerkorian had never put any money into MGM; their operations relied entirely on constantly issuing corporate bonds to fund movie production

and distribution, yet after over a decade, the number of hit films produced had dwindled while debts piled up.

Following the summer releases of Cliffhanger and Last Action Hero, which failed miserably at

the box office, the largest shareholder, Lyon Credit Bank, not only couldn't benefit from MGM but also had to keep investing to prevent MGM from collapsing under its debts.

In light of this, it was completely understandable why European film factions were unwilling

to step into such a disastrous situation.

Left with no other options, Eric considered his situation and quickly came up with a more

acceptable proposal.

*****

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