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Legendary Hollywood Director

A man who perfectly combined business and literary aspects in his films, a man who Eva Green was obsessed with, a man who broke the status quo of Hollywood - yes, we are talking about Lyman Lattes, a godly French director.

Shallowman · Realistic
Not enough ratings
335 Chs

Sweet cake

The first day without seeing her, he missed her.

The second day without seeing her, he missed her even more.

Days that passed gently as a breeze always seemed to fly by quickly. In the blink of an eye, three days had gone by, and the Cannes Film Festival was also nearing its end.

On this slightly melancholic night, Lyman couldn't resist picking up the phone and calling Eva Green.

She had returned home the day before yesterday and hadn't come back since.

"Hello, where are you?" He began with a foolish question.

"I'm at home."

"Do you need something?"

"Not really."

"Then why... why haven't you come over?"

"Do you miss me?" Eva sounded excited, emitting a tinkling laugh.

"No, without you here, I can't write the roles for the new script. After all, I need to capture your essence as accurately as possible. When will you come?"

Ah, men.

This was the last vestige of Lyman's pride.

"Take it easy. My sister is pestering me; I can't get rid of her." Eva was lying on her bed, speaking while lying on her side. She absentmindedly intertwined her long legs, clearly quite annoyed.

Alas, ever since she heard that Tom Cruise was attending an event here, she had wanted to meet him.

Although there might have been a chance to meet, clearly Eva didn't want to do so. She was afraid of causing trouble.

"Why is she bothering you?"

"Nothing. Oh, by the way, the film festival will end the day after tomorrow. Do you think we'll win any significant awards?"

The topic change was quite abrupt, but Lyman didn't notice.

"Winning an award is certain, but I don't know if we can get the Palme d'Or."

"But even if we win awards, it's not your share. You haven't been nominated for Best Actress," Lyman muttered.

"Oh well, that's not important." She said that, but Eva still felt a bit disheartened. As an actress, receiving a significant award that affirmed her performance was undoubtedly a good thing. Why wouldn't she want that?

"So when can you come?" Lyman got back to the point.

"Let me think..." Eva pretended to think, then hummed for a while before finally laughing, "I can come tomorrow morning."

...

The next day, she did indeed arrive quite early.

Lyman opened the door, looked at the misty morning outside, and then at the lively Eva standing at the door in a light gray dress. He quickly ushered her in.

"What time is it?"

"Five o'clock. I got up at 3 o'clock and had a friend drive me here," Eva said seriously.

Both of them appeared tired, one not fully awake, the other having had no sleep at all.

They took off their coats and lay on the large bed, snuggling up to each other, and soon drifted back into slumber.

By the time they woke up again, it was already afternoon.

In truth, Lyman had awakened midway, but seeing her so tired, he didn't want to disturb her.

After a simple freshening up, they left the room to grab something to eat.

Cannes was wonderful everywhere, except for its cuisine; it could use a bit more effort.

If the food was also good, it would indeed be quite suitable for living here.

Unfortunately, Lyman was still young, and his heart was focused on striving for his career. He didn't want to settle down for retirement so soon.

They walked along the waterfront road.

Gazing at the beach bay on their right, enjoying the gentle sea breeze brushing over their cheeks with a hint of saltiness, they chatted casually as they arrived at the Rue Ménadier.

It wasn't too far from the Palais des Festivals, and this was one of the main thoroughfares connecting the left and right sides.

It was bustling with people, and the atmosphere was lively. Of course, this vibrant scene was due to the ongoing film festival.

Lyman wore sunglasses.

He had no choice; while walking on the street, people often recognized him and greeted him. Finding it troublesome, he had also learned this discreet method of concealment.

They arrived at an afternoon tea restaurant.

Following the menu, they ordered a few signature desserts from the restaurant and two seafood platters. For drinks, Lyman chose coffee, while Eva opted for milk tea.

Before long, the seafood platter arrived.

"Want to taste and see how it tastes?"

"Have you been here before?"

"Yeah, René said the food at this place is good and recommended it to me."

Eva cut a small piece of lobster meat, put it into her mouth with her fork, chewed a few times, then commented, "The taste is indeed good."

"That's good to hear. I'll start too."

Saying this, Lyman picked up his fork and knife and began to eat...

Before long, several desserts were also brought out one by one by the waiter.

Lyman wasn't particularly interested in these.

Because the French generally had a sweet tooth and a high tolerance for sweetness, each dessert was cloyingly sweet.

At the moment, Lyman was staring at a small plate of Napoleon cake, which looked exquisite and had an impressive name.

Especially after taking a bite, its sweetness was several notches higher than typical desserts, making him completely lose his appetite.

This was even sweeter than macarons or éclairs, which made Lyman even more uninterested.

Moreover, despite its impressive name like "Napoleon", what's the big deal? It was just a regular butter cake with a thin layer of puff pastry and a hint of cream inside.

The puff pastry crumbled at the slightest touch...

Lyman completely abandoned any intention of putting it in his stomach. He glanced up at Eva. This girl was just like most French girls, leisurely smearing various jams or small portions of cheese on her desserts, eating with great joy... adding sweetness to an already sweet treat.

No wonder French girls tend to gain weight as they enter middle age. Eating these things every day, how could they not gain weight?

After eating, the two of them continued to idle away their time.

They strolled around Rue Ménadier again, but it felt dull.

Honestly, Cannes didn't have much to offer in terms of entertainment. If it weren't for the Cannes Film Festival attracting some attention every year, it wouldn't be bustling at all.

The locals, apart from staying home, liked to stroll along the bay's shoreline.

In fact, considering the small area, it's only a little over 20 square kilometers...

Wandering around aimlessly, evening arrived.

They returned home and took a shower.

It was quite late, probably around 9 or 10 o'clock, and the outside was rather quiet.

In the bedroom, the main light wasn't on, only the small bedside lamp emitted an orange halo, casting faint shadows on the white wall.

Eva sat cross-legged on the bed, and so did Lyman, leaning against the headboard.

Well, the ambiance was just right, giving a sense that a storm was about to break, filling the room.

"Are you going to sleep?" Eva suddenly asked.

It was as if some kind of signal had been given.

She lifted the covers and smoothly slipped into the duvet.

Perhaps due to not seeing each other for a few days, Lyman also became somewhat awkward.

He turned to look at her, tilting his head slightly to the side.

What was she thinking now? Unfounded curiosity occupied Lyman's mind.

"I'll sleep too."

He said deliberately, carefully lifting the corner of the covers, and then gradually moved closer.