A continental director from many years in the future unexpectedly returns to Hollywood in 1986, and so begins his legendary journey to take step-by-step control of the center of the world's largest film industry. ----------------------- It's 1 chapter per day at 1 p.m. (Arizona) in every novel I upload. 3 daily chapters in each novel on patreon! p@treon.com/INNIT ----------------------- DISCLAIMER The story belongs entirely to the original author.
Waking up in a strange large bed, the sky barely bright.
Quietly listening to the rustling sound of someone dressing next to her, Linda Carter still couldn't help but wonder how all of this had happened.
Perhaps, a certain man was simply too attractive. Young, handsome, wealthy, seemingly flawless. Or perhaps it was vanity. Okay, being escorted by him at the party last night, receiving envious glances from many younger and prettier women, was a feeling she hadn't enjoyed in a long time. Or perhaps, from the moment she sat down opposite him, he had been seducing her.
Yes.
Hitchcock's "The Shining"! Ha, such a movie genius, how could he make such a novice mistake? He probably just wanted her to relax: see, Simon Westeros can make mistakes too, it's no big deal.
Recalling the details of last night, she had approached him with a bit of caution, even awe. After his small mistake, she indeed felt less constrained.
Anyway.
She was playing with fire.
Though, feeling empty inside.
Hmm, no.
Silently reaching her hand to her chest... it's not emptiness. Having given birth to a son last year, her little one wasn't even a year and a half yet. To maintain her figure, she hardly ever breastfed her child.
"Awake?"
Suddenly, a voice next to her ear, Linda Carter, with a blush, looked at the man buttoning his shirt beside the bed, replied, then tried to sound composed, "Good morning."
"Morning," Simon smiled, buttoning up the last button, "Sleep a bit more, I'll have someone prepare breakfast for you. Also, the driver will be waiting outside this morning to take you whenever you're ready."
Linda Carter noticed a man's wristwatch on the bedside table, stretched out her fair arm to grab it, and looked at it.
It was not yet a quarter past six.
Remembering what Simon just said, she realized something and asked, "Are you leaving now?"
"Yeah, work stuff."
What kind of work is there at six in the morning? It felt like he was trying to escape, but she couldn't help asking, "Aren't you having breakfast?"
"Um, not very hungry."
Linda Carter paused, blushed even more at the thought.
Of course, you're not hungry.
Simon, noticing her reaction and realizing his answer could be misinterpreted, felt a bit embarrassed. He actually had a work breakfast with Amy at seven, his automatic response was just not wanting to explain too much.
After dressing, seeing the woman under the sheets still holding his watch, Simon gestured with his hand.
The woman, noticing Simon reaching out, subconsciously shrank back, then, feeling embarrassed, handed over the watch.
Simon casually wore the watch, looking at the woman on the bed, hesitated, then took out his wallet, flipped open the checkbook, filled it out for a moment, and tore off a check.
Linda Carter, who was initially avoiding Simon's gaze, noticed his actions, turned her head, and soon her eyes widened slightly, her tone filled with anger, "What are you doing?"
Simon, holding the check, paused, softly said, "No other meaning, you can buy whatever you like."
Linda Carter glared at Simon, said no more, simply turned her back on him.
Simon, looking at her silhouette, softly said, "I'm sorry, Linda, next time you're in Los Angeles, let me take you out for dinner."
"Jerk, you can leave now."
Simon softly apologized again, thought for a moment, still gently placed the check on the bedside table, and left the bedroom.
The door closed softly.
About ten minutes later, the sound of a car engine could faintly be heard.
That jerk must have left.
Still a bit angry.
So, she muttered a few more curses, tired from the anger, couldn't resist her drooping eyelids, and fell asleep again.
Waking up again, the light streaming through the gaps in the curtains was already very bright. Pulling the sheets around her body, she got out of bed, walked to the window, and opened the curtains leading to the terrace, the annoyingly bright sunlight immediately filled the bedroom. The villa had an excellent view, standing inside the floor-to-ceiling window, one could see downtown Los Angeles at the foot of the mountain and the serene blue of Santa Monica Bay under the sunlight.
Somewhat coveting this scenery, but knowing it could never belong to her.
Remembering that jerk's actions a few hours ago, she got angry again. Although not as wealthy as him, her husband is a well-known financial lawyer with an annual income of several million dollars. With the popularity from "Wonder Woman" years ago, she has also been able to earn a decent income through TV, movie endorsements, and the like over the years.
Anyway, she didn't lack money.
Initially, this was a somewhat exciting yet not too bad experience, but he had to treat her like one of those women, giving her money.
Jerk!
Repeating the word again, she lost interest in the view, turned around, and headed to the bathroom.
After a quick wash and dressing, she grabbed her handbag, ready to leave, but noticed the check he signed was on the bedside table. It was placed face down, so the amount wasn't visible.
Hesitated.
Thought, since there definitely won't be a next time, might as well see how much that jerk signed for.
Just a look.
So, she picked it up.
Then.
One, two, three, four, five, six... yes, six zeros before the decimal point.
This is.
1 million dollars?!
She was momentarily stunned.
"Wonder Woman" was, after all, a decade ago. In recent years, the largest check she received was for $500,000, a three-year endorsement deal with a bedding company. The recent TV movie audition she rushed to, if signed, would probably only pay about $50,000. Participating in these films and TV series was mainly to increase her exposure, so she could continue to receive relatively lucrative advertising endorsements, ensuring her entry into the high-income class in the United States.
But, all endorsements and film fees combined, she averaged only a few hundred thousand dollars a year.
As for her husband's money, they kept their finances separate, even signing a prenuptial agreement. Although he took care of the family expenses, even in the event of a divorce, she might not get a one-time alimony over a million dollars.
Stood there dazed for a while longer.
Thinking about her reaction this morning, she felt he, at most, would have signed a check for $100,000. $100,000, compared to her own principles, was nothing to her.
Seemed she was quite rude in telling him to leave.
Now.
Suddenly couldn't help thinking, he must have done it on purpose, purposely tormenting her.
It must be so!
That despicable man.
Scoundrel!
Brute! With your generosity, why not sign for 10 million dollars, see if I would take it!
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