C 26

The melodious and soothing piano music echoed through the café, enhancing the quiet atmosphere. Luke sat by the window, slowly setting down his coffee cup and calmly observing Lovett, who sat across from him.

Luke hadn't expected his former agent to be so persistent. After declining his proposal over the phone yesterday, Lovett had tracked him down in New York today, full of sincerity. It was hard to believe that, just a year ago, this same man had declared Luke had no future in Hollywood.

Though Luke couldn't help feeling a bit proud, he kept his expression neutral as he studied Lovett, who was, in turn, watching him.

To Lovett, the man sitting opposite him was an enigma. They had worked together for five years, and by all accounts, Luke Rosenberg had shown no potential. Lovett had seen two of Luke's experimental films, which he had found completely disorganized. He hadn't been the only one who felt this way either. CAA, known for its stringent client evaluations, had also collectively decided to drop Luke. But the results had proven them wrong.

Now, Lovett had been tasked with fixing that mistake.

Though he was acting under orders from Michael Ovitz, Lovett was more than willing to take on the job. It had been three days since the workweek started, and over the weekend, Speed had continued its momentum, pushing its total box office to over $66 million. Now, with another three days of ticket sales, the film was closing in on $80 million.

In its third week of wide release, Speed was still holding strong. Even with the competitive summer movie season looming, the film was likely to remain in theaters for some time, possibly even reaching the $100 million mark.

A 22-year-old director with a debut feature approaching $100 million at the box office?

Just the thought made Lovett ready to throw away his pride. Even if it meant groveling, he had to get Luke back under his representation.

"Luke, I urge you to seriously consider my proposal," Lovett said, the professional shrewdness gone from his face, replaced with an expression of pure sincerity. His gaze was almost intense. "CAA is the largest agency in Hollywood, representing half of the top actors. We can map out your future career, and with the resources I have, you'd be given top priority."

These were tempting conditions, but Lovett wasn't finished. He laid out CAA's biggest advantage. "The most important point is that CAA offers packaging services. You can focus solely on directing, and we'll take care of everything else."

"That sounds more like being a puppet for CAA than being a director," Luke interrupted.

Lovett was caught off guard. He hadn't considered it that way before, but now realized Luke had a point.

"Lovett, I'm just starting out as a director," Luke said, taking another sip of coffee. "I'm still finding my way…"

"Which is exactly why you should join CAA!" Lovett interjected.

But Luke shook his head slowly. "What CAA excels at is exactly what I dislike."

"Packaging services?" Lovett asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes," Luke confirmed. "As the number one entertainment agency, CAA controls everything—its actors, directors, producers, and even their projects. But I'm someone who needs control over my work. I don't want anyone else pulling the strings."

Luke had once seen CAA as a stepping stone to achieving his directorial ambitions. But now that he had the capital, he was ready to move beyond them. Directors with a strong desire for creative control, like him, simply weren't compatible with CAA's model.

"Luke, please think it over carefully," Lovett pleaded. CAA wouldn't change its practices for Luke, but Lovett wasn't ready to give up yet.

"There's no need," Luke said firmly. "CAA won't change for me, so I'm refusing."

Realizing the conversation was over, Lovett offered a few more parting words before leaving the café.

Luke watched him go, finishing the last of his coffee before leaving as well. As he walked back to his hotel through the crowded streets of Brooklyn, he wasn't worried about any fallout from CAA. Plenty of people in Hollywood refused to work with them, just as plenty were eager to sign. CAA wouldn't hold a grudge.

When Luke reached the hotel, he noticed a crowd gathered outside, holding Speed posters and shouting the names of Keanu Reeves and Uma Thurman. No one recognized him as he walked past them. Directors, especially those with only one film to their name, rarely got attention. Luke wasn't bothered. He didn't mind staying out of the spotlight.

In the hotel lobby, Naomi Watts sat with her agent, Nancy Josephson. Through the glass doors, Naomi watched the crowd outside, her blue-green eyes filled with a mix of envy and longing. Though she had a role in Speed, the difference in treatment between her and the leads was stark.

"Fame is the dream of everyone who comes to Hollywood," Naomi thought as she stood up and walked over to Luke. "Luke, do you have a moment?" she asked.

Surprised, Luke turned to her. "Hello, Naomi."

"My agent, Nancy Josephson, would like to talk to you."

Five minutes later, Luke and Nancy were seated in a café on the hotel's second floor. Naomi had been dismissed after making the introduction.

"You want to be my agent?" Luke asked, looking at Nancy seriously.

"Yes," she replied. "ICM can provide you with top-tier service, and I'm the future head of ICM."

Before she could finish her pitch, Luke raised his hand to stop her. "I've done some research on ICM, and I'm familiar with its position in the industry. I just met with someone from CAA."

"CAA undoubtedly has more resources," Nancy acknowledged. "But don't forget, they also have many well-known directors and actors. You'd be facing fierce competition even within their ranks."

"That's true," Luke admitted. After a moment of thought, he continued, "I do have a few conditions. These are non-negotiable if we're going to work together. If they can't be met, I'd rather not have an agent at all."

Nancy gestured for him to continue.

"First, I'm not a fan of agencies packaging my projects. I don't want any interference in my crew. Second, the agency can't interfere with my personal life—I'm not interested in being a puppet. Third, I might make decisions the agency doesn't understand, and fourth…"

As Luke listed his demands, Nancy's face grew darker. Essentially, Luke was making it clear that he wanted the agency to act as nothing more than a basic service provider.

"I'll need to think about this," Nancy said finally.

"I'll need time to consider too," Luke replied. "I'll need to learn more about ICM—and you."

Neither party was in a rush to sign a contract. Just as film companies conduct thorough evaluations before greenlighting a project, Luke would carefully vet any potential agent.

After returning to his room, Luke called Robin Grande for more information on Nancy Josephson. He learned that she was indeed a capable agent, with a promising project in development for Warner Bros. The working title? Six Friends.

Luke couldn't help but take notice of her potential.

But whether or not she'd agree to his conditions remained to be seen.