Chapter 258: No One Is a Fool

[Chapter 258: No One Is a Fool]

"...Carl unexpectedly died from a piece of falling glass that pierced his heart, and his soul was dragged into hell by the Grim Reaper. After saying goodbye to Sam, Molly, and Odie, he fulfilled his wish and slowly walked into the gates of heaven. Mr. Williams, what do you think of this story?"

Bruce Joel Rubin noticed right away that Eric seemed a bit distracted. So, he quickly summarized the story, not expecting much in return. He asked his final question while waiting for Eric to give a negative answer, hoping to excuse himself from the conversation.

As soon as Bruce finished, Eric snapped back to attention.

"Mr. Rubin, it seems like Charles and the others weren't too optimistic about this story, right?"

When Bruce heard Eric's comment, he thought he was being rejected, and a look of disappointment crossed his face. "Well then, sorry for bothering you, Mr. Williams."

Just as Bruce was about to leave, Eric quickly called out, "Mr. Rubin, actually, I think your concept is pretty good."

Bruce stopped in his tracks and turned around, checking to see if he had misheard. "Mr. Williams, did I just hear you correctly?"

"Of course you did," Eric smiled, adding, "I think your concept is good, but when I listened to your summary of the story, I didn't hear anything that really stood out. Do you have a complete script?"

"Of course I do, Mr. Williams. I..." Bruce Joel Rubin rubbed his hands nervously. He had sneaked into the party with a friend, so he obviously hadn't brought a script. Yet, having finally come across someone interested, especially one of Hollywood's hottest young directors, Bruce was eager to seize the opportunity. "Mr. Williams, how about I go get the script now?"

Eric shook his head. "There's no need to rush. It's already late." He then pulled out a business card and handed it to Bruce. "How about you bring the script to Firefly headquarters tomorrow at nine? We can talk in detail then."

Bruce excitedly accepted the business card. "Mr. Williams, I'll be there on time."

Eric nodded and didn't say anything more as he glanced at a few eager guests around, casually leaving the conversation.

...

"Eric, what are you thinking about?" Virginia, pressed against Eric on the dance floor, looked up and asked.

Eric glanced at Bruce, who was being engaged by various guests, saying, "I've set my sights on a script, and I suspect many people are eager to get it."

Virginia followed Eric's gaze. "Is it that guy? I just saw you chatting with him for a bit. If you like it, why not buy it right away?"

"Right away? In the middle of the night?" Eric stroked the woman's waist and replied, "No one's a fool; if I act too eager, the person with the script will hesitate to sell it. Plus, with other studios wanting the script, it could ultimately cost more to acquire it."

Virginia tightened her embrace around Eric's waist, nuzzling her face against his chest. "I don't quite understand; I guess I'm a fool after all."

Taking advantage of no one watching, Eric lightly slapped Virginia's wrapped rear end, his tone playful. "I like fools."

Virginia protested by giving Eric a light punch, and then she looked up, her big eyes blinking innocently as she asked, "Eric, tonight?"

Eric shook his head helplessly. "You have a whole line of photographers following you everywhere. Do you think I dare come to your place?"

Virginia felt resigned at his words. Ever since the release of The Others, she had not only gained immense fame, rocketing from a third-rate actress to a leading star, but her private life had also attracted intense scrutiny from the tabloids. Eric knew they were not only targeting Virginia but also himself.

Every time he recalled the night he negotiated with Murdoch and the old man mentioned that a New York Post reporter had been secretly following him for months, Eric felt uneasy. Frankly, that issue had yet to be resolved. Eric had been wise enough not to approach Murdoch for the photos, as even a fool would know he wouldn't hand over all the backup copies.

Since that incident, Eric had become even more cautious.

Though he didn't care about being in the media spotlight with those actresses, he had to consider Jennifer Aniston's feelings. If rumors about him and other actresses kept popping up, even if she tried to pretend they didn't matter, the pressure would likely force her to break it off.

Although visiting Virginia wasn't an option, going elsewhere was not an issue.

...

In the bedroom, Aniston lay like a fish out of water, gasping for breath before collapsing, her body twitching. Eric also lay down on the smooth skin of her back, brushing aside strands of hair to plant kisses on her cheek.

He gently stirred, quickly sliding into her slick warmth.

"Ugh... stop, I'm dying here." Aniston objected, arching her rounded backside as if she wanted to push Eric away, but instead, it only heightened his pleasure.

"Let me do mouth-to-mouth," Eric teased, kissing her petite lips as his tongue invaded, dancing with her soft one hidden inside.

With soft protests, Aniston tried her best to glare at the man pressing down on her after Eric finally let go. After a moment of playful intimacy, she finally managed to say, "Eric, can I go wash up? I don't want to dirty the sheets."

Eric flashed a mischievous grin, kissing her cheek and leaning close to whisper, "Don't worry, let me just rest a moment, and I'll fix that for you."

Upon hearing this, Aniston immediately started to squirm under Eric's weight, exclaiming, "No more, no more! I'll die if you keep this up!"

Unfortunately, she failed to realize that her writhing only intensified Eric's desires, and the previously yielded member was soon at attention once more.

Eric quickly flipped Aniston back over, lifting her long legs to rest on her chest, and pressed down once again.

...

As the morning light streamed in, Eric woke up, feeling refreshed. He pulled the covers over the restless Aniston before getting dressed and stepping into the bathroom.

As he opened the door to the living room, he heard a soft clatter from the kitchen.

"Good morning," Nicole called out, turning her head to greet Eric while preparing breakfast.

"Morning," Eric nodded, catching the mouth-watering scent wafting through the air. "Is there enough for me?"

Nicole shot him an eye roll. "What do you think?"

"Of course there is," Eric responded as he approached, wrapping his arms around her slender waist while peering into the little pot on the stove.

Nicole was caught off guard by Eric's sudden action but soon relaxed as she felt him pressed against her. "After what you did last night, you're still not satisfied?"

"Were you eavesdropping?" Eric teased, blowing softly against her sensitive earlobe.

Nicole's cheeks flushed, and she denied it, "Do I need to eavesdrop? You were loud enough; if it weren't for the villa's decent soundproofing, the neighbors would've probably called the cops."

"What about you?" Eric asked, his tone playful as one hand slipped around her waist.

"Eric, you're such a jerk! Aren't you worried about Jenny finding out?" Nicole wriggled, not certain if she was resisting or encouraging him.

"She probably won't wake up for a while," Eric replied, withdrawing his drenched fingers from her clothes and bringing them to her lips.

Nicole shot Eric an annoyed look but obediently opened her mouth, taking his finger inside.

After a moment, Eric pulled his finger back, giving her a playful slap on her rear. "All done. I'm going to wake Jenny. You finish making breakfast."

"Jerk." As Eric released her suddenly, Nicole nearly collapsed, hastily supporting herself on the counter, muttering a complaint at his retreating figure toward the door.

...

After breakfast, as Eric left the apartment he shared with Jennifer and Nicole, he spotted Bruce Joel Rubin waiting outside the office building.

"Mr. Rubin, didn't we agree on nine o'clock?" Eric checked his watch.

Bruce replied, "That's right, Mr. Williams. I was afraid of traffic, so I arrived early."

"Oh, let's head to the office then," Eric said, leading Bruce into the Firefly office building.

This was the office Robert Shea had recommended a few months ago, now belonging to Firefly. The former New Line and Firefly employees had moved in at the beginning of the month.

Initially, Eric had thought to move UTA in as well, but that suggestion met resistance from Jeffrey and Robert, and even Kepler didn't agree. After a lengthy explanation, Eric understood it was a matter of avoiding conflict of interest. After all, production companies couldn't own talent agencies at the same time. Eric originally only flirted with the idea, but moving UTA in with Firefly would only cause problems.

Once inside the office, Eric had coffee delivered for both of them and sat across from Bruce Joel Rubin. "So, Mr. Rubin, did you bring the script?"

"Of course," Bruce pulled a manuscript from his bag and handed it to Eric.

Eric didn't say a word; he opened the script and began reading.

*****

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