Chapter 699: A Spiritual Connection

[Chapter 699: A Spiritual Connection]

Eric waited for about twenty minutes before a red sports car appeared at the intersection not far away and quickly pulled up in front of him.

The window rolled down, and the girl didn't even bother to open the door; she simply squeezed out through the window. Eric hurriedly reached out to catch her, pulling her out of the car.

After a moment of snuggling against Eric, she sniffled playfully and said with a grin, "Eric, you smell like a woman. Did you get kicked out of bed at the last minute?"

Noticing the brief awkward expression flashing across Eric's face, the girl couldn't help but burst into laughter. "Haha, I guessed right! Poor thing, let little Drew give you a hug. Don't cry!"

Eric chuckled and playfully smacked her on the backside, looking at her rosy face from drinking too much. "It's late; you should hurry home and get some rest."

"Yeah, home. Carry me to the car..."

With one arm around her, Eric opened the car door and stuffed her inside. He didn't get in right away but walked around to knock on the driver's window. The glass slid down, revealing the twins. "Master, is there something wrong?"

Eric glanced over to confirm the twins hadn't been drinking and nodded. "Nothing, let's go."

"Eric, you don't need to check. How could I let them drink? That's too dangerous! Ugh, I feel a bit dizzy. I need a hug."

After Eric climbed into the backseat, the girl immediately snuggled against him, and he wrapped his arm around her small frame, affectionately patting her head. "I really want to knock some sense into you."

"Hey, even if you did, I'd still know what you're planning as soon as you raised your hand."

Feeling the car start moving, Eric smiled and raised his hand. "Come on, guess what I'm about to do?"

Resting comfortably on Eric's leg, the girl reached out to tug on his hand, playfully nibbling on it a couple of times. "That's way too obvious. I'm not guessing."

...

For over ten minutes, the sports car wound its way along the mountain roads of Beverly Hills, finally reaching the Trousseau Estate. Eric was still bent over chatting with the girl when Natasha, in the passenger seat, turned around. "Master, there's someone at the front gate."

Eric looked up to see a black SUV parked outside Drew's mansion.

The girl perked up at Natasha's words, sat up, and peeked outside, laughing. "Gwyneth Paltrow! She must have forgotten something when she left."

Eric asked, confused, "Forgot what?"

"How would I know?" the girl replied, still smiling. "Whatever it is, she just needs an excuse to come back."

It suddenly clicked for Eric, and he chuckled softly, deciding not to say anything more.

Seeing the girl's red sports car parked at the mansion entrance, Gwyneth Paltrow took a deep breath and stepped out of her SUV, her face already wearing an apologetic expression as she walked towards Eric and Drew. "I'm so sorry, Drew. I left my bag at your place, and I have an audition sheet in it for tomorrow, so I had to come back now."

The girl warmly took Gwyneth's hand. "No worries, Kate! It's late, why don't you just stay the night?"

"Wouldn't I be bothering you?" Gwyneth asked, directing her question at Eric.

Eric silently looked at the two girls, who seemed to be like sisters despite not having those feelings, and simply nodded. He then saw the gate open and walked towards the courtyard.

Noticing that Eric didn't intend to engage her in conversation, Gwyneth's eyes flickered with disappointment, but she quickly changed her expression to accommodate the girl still holding her hand.

"Let's go inside," the girl said, seemingly oblivious to Gwyneth's demeanor, before instructing the twins to take Gwyneth's car into the garage.

...

As Eric stepped into the courtyard, he noted two maids still working and various items scattered around, realizing the girl had indeed been throwing a party at his house. The two maids didn't know much about Eric's nature, and upon seeing him, they froze, fearing reprimand since their work wasn't finished.

Close to 1 AM, and Eric wasn't the type to be unreasonable. He waved his hand. "You all can head to bed. Clean up tomorrow."

The maids sighed in relief and quickly finished their tasks, then quietly disappeared.

Behind him, the two girls chattered away, and Eric had no interest in joining them. He tossed his coat onto the sofa, headed upstairs, and turned on the water to fill the tub for a shower.

A moment later, Natasha appeared quietly at the door holding Eric's coat. She hung it up neatly on a nearby rack and approached softly. "Master, let me handle it."

Eric rose to let Natasha oversee the water flow, then walked over to the sink to grab his toothbrush. Squeezing toothpaste onto it, he asked, "What's Drew doing downstairs?"

"Just chatting with Miss Paltrow."

"It's pretty late. Go tell them to continue their conversation tomorrow."

"Okay," Natasha nodded. As Eric started brushing his teeth, she focused on the bathtub, checking the water temperature before quietly slipping out of the bathroom.

After brushing his teeth, Eric stripped off his clothes and sank into the inviting warmth of the tub, feeling his eyelids growing heavy. After a while, he felt the bathroom door push open, and the girl dove into the tub beside him.

Eric held her wriggling little body against him and said with a chuckle, "Stop fooling around. It's late. Where's Gwyneth Paltrow?"

"She went to the guest room to sleep, Eric. Are you thinking of sneaking in? She might be looking forward to it."

"Not interested. Since you don't like her, why are you being all nice?"

The girl snuggled closer against Eric's shoulder. "It's just interesting to see her trying so hard to get close to me while clearly disliking me."

Eric patted the girl on the back and said, "Don't take it too far."

"If you don't like it, I'll just ignore her."

Eric shook his head. "Not necessary, but why did I just hear you call her Kate?"

"Because that's her baptismal name, given by godfather."

Eric asked curiously, "Oh, what's your god name?"

"I just casually picked it up while filming E.T. I was only eight at the time, and they didn't give me a proper name. She's from a long-established Hollywood family, and her name was given formally during her baptism."

Noticing the girl seemed strangely low-spirited, Eric leaned over and kissed her doll-like face. "It's okay, how about I give you a god name?"

"Alright, will I call you Daddy?"

"Uh... not gonna happen."

"Ha ha," the girl giggled, wiggling again and splashing water everywhere. "You totally like it; I can feel it."

Eric stretched out to hold her down again. "Keep it up, and I'll toss you out."

"Ha ha," the girl laughed a few more times, then stopped her antics. "By the way, Eric, I got this really cool script today and paid a whopping $500,000 for it. Can you take a look?"

"Tomorrow. Look at the time."

"Just a quick peek," she insisted, getting more energetic as the night grew late. She climbed to the edge of the tub, grabbing a bottle of shampoo and banging it against the edge, calling out, "Natasha! Natasha..."

Voices echoed from the twins, "Boss?"

"Can you bring me that script I got today?"

"Sure."

A moment later, the bathroom door softly opened, and Natasha walked in holding a script. Her usually calm and clear face had a hint of redness as her gaze flickered away, not daring to look directly at Eric in the tub.

Although a layer of bubbles covered the tub, obscuring everything, Eric felt a bit awkward, ready to tell Natasha to leave, but the girl stretched her two pale arms out, asking Natasha to help her dry off. "Why be shy? I'm Eric's; you all are Eric's too."

Natasha replied softly, "Yes, boss."

As the twins left, Eric finally asked, "What exactly did you do?"

The girl didn't answer directly and cheerfully said, "If you don't want it, I'll just give them away."

"Uh..."

"Just kidding, I wouldn't give them to anyone. Haha, let's see the script," she said, holding one hand out with the script while offering Eric a dry towel with the other.

Eric dried his hands and took the script from her, flipping it open, his eyes nearly popping out of his head when he saw the cover simply titled Scream, with the writer's name Kevin Williamson.

Fortunately, the girl turned around to hang the towel up, so she didn't see the brief surprise cross Eric's face, or she would definitely have guessed something was up.

As the girl turned back, Eric casually questioned, "Where did this script come from?"

"Everyone is competing for it right now; they tried to start bidding at $350,000, and all the major studios backed out. Just a few small production companies are left competing. I thought it was such a cool script, I immediately offered $500,000 to secure it."

Hollywood's top writers could sell a script for $2 million to $5 million, but due to box office potential limitations, horror scripts typically didn't go for that high. Eric knew Scream was a massive success in the original timeline, but at this moment, $500,000 seemed like a stretch for a horror script that usually wouldn't be worth over $200,000 to $400,000, which was why the major studios had pulled out at $350,000.

The girl had once again guessed Eric's thoughts from his expression and explained, "The $500,000 isn't just for this one script; it also includes contracts for two sequels and two similar genre scripts. Altogether, it's actually five scripts."

Hearing this, Eric's earlier thoughts quickly vanished.

Of course.

There was no way this girl was going to lose out.

Eric could guess the motivation behind writer Kevin Williamson's decision; being an unknown screenwriter in Hollywood, $500,000 would be a fortune. Thousands of scripts pass through Hollywood every year, and many writers only get one or two projects before fading out; some never earn $500,000 in their lifetime. It was clear Williamson was looking to cash in, given the chance.

However, for $500,000 for five films, once Scream hit it big, Williamson was bound to regret his choice later.

Feeling Eric's change in mood, the girl smugly giggled a couple of times. "Eric, what do you think of me playing the girl who gets killed right at the beginning of the script?"

Leaning against the edge of the tub while flipping through the script, Eric asked calmly, "What made you think of that?"

"I just think it sounds interesting. I haven't acted in a movie for ages, and this role won't take much time at all."

"Well, if you like it, go for it. By the way, what happened with Tina's script for Mean Girls?"

"It's already in the works. We plan to aim for a year-end release. If the filming of Scream goes well, we will also release it at the end of the year. If no one wants to distribute it, we'll just do it ourselves. Oh, and there's a sequel for Mission: Impossible; Kevin Costner's agent called the other day, wanting to discuss the sequel contract."

Eric asked, "How did you respond?"

The girl laughed, "We just ignored him! Everyone knows by now that Waterworld is a mess. Although it's more or less completed, we found out it burned through $130 million just in the filming phase. I heard they scared the original director off by the end, and post-production will take at least another $30 to $40 million! Costner wants to secure a Mission: Impossible sequel contract in case Waterworld flops; I won't let him succeed. If he wants to negotiate, we'll wait until after Waterworld is out, haha. With Scream and Mean Girls, I'll have plenty to keep me and Amy busy for a long time; plus, we have to personally handle the release for Forrest Gump and participate in the promotions for Night at the Museum. There's so much to do!"

Warner Bros. must be regretting their decision to take on Kevin Costner's long-planned Waterworld after the major actor strike last year.

With production costs nearing $170 million, marketing alone would likely require another $30 million, for a total of $200 million that Warner needed to recoup at least $600 million worldwide just to break even. From Eric's recollection, that $600 million worldwide looked impossible; just not flopping would be an achievement. When ticket sales were low, even a blockbuster that burned through $200 million in costs wouldn't earn much from ancillary revenues like video tapes and television rights. Warner was facing massive losses on this film -- almost a certainty.

Eric couldn't help but think of Warner's summer slate this year; besides Waterworld, they had Batman Forever, Heat, Fair Game, and Eraser, of which only Batman Forver was assured revenue. However, he couldn't recall any of the other films doing huge box office globally. But the production cost for all five films was sky-high. Not discussing Waterworld's cataclysmic $170 million price tag, Batman Forever hit $120 million from its stacked cast, while Eraser cost a significant $100 million due to Arnold Schwarzenegger's hefty salary. The other Heat came in at $70 million, and the cheapest among them, Fair Game, still cost a hefty $50 million.

In Eric's view, these films were definitely not worth their enormous production budgets. Although the summer blockbuster lineup would boost Time Warner's film revenue significantly this year, he was almost certain the profits would fall sharply compared to last year's $91 million loss; Time Warner CEO Terry Semel was in for a rough time ahead.

Perhaps, while Time Warner was down, Firefly could do something.

After all, Time Warner held something that Eric found extremely tempting and Firefly lacked.

...

Lying on an unfamiliar bed in a strange room, Gwyneth Paltrow tossed and turned for a long time, her mind swirling chaotically with expectations, longings, envy, and more.

Although both she and Drew were goddaughters of Spielberg, Gwyneth had always looked down on Drew, thinking of her as just a low-level girl in Hollywood who only managed to survive because of her godfather. However, Drew's recent streak of good luck drove Gwyneth up the wall. Just looking at the multi-million dollar mansion she was currently in made Gwyneth grind her teeth -- she didn't even know when she would ever buy a place like this.

Over the years, Gwyneth had purposely lowered her profile when interacting with Drew, yet she did not even bring her a single audition opportunity for a big project, making her resentful.

What a brat!

All she did was snag Eric Williams!

I will definitely win him over.

After plotting in her mind for an unknown amount of time, the sky outside gradually brightened, and Gwyneth finally fell into a deep sleep. When she opened her eyes again, sunlight filled almost the entire room.

Groggily glancing at her watch, it was 9:30 AM. Gwyneth sprang up, quickly freshened up, and nervously sat at the vanity, meticulously getting herself ready, silently hoping that he hadn't left yet; otherwise, she wouldn't know when their next meeting would occur. That brat never even bothered to introduce her to Eric Williams. Although some girls had begged her to take them to see Eric at Liberty City Estate, they had all been unsuccessful.

After dressing carefully, Gwyneth stepped out of the guest room. The villa showed no traces of last night's party and seemed rather empty. She walked all the way to the living room without encountering anyone.

As she was about to step out, she saw one of the twins carrying some clothes down the stairs. Upon seeing her, the girl politely paused to greet her.

Though she was somewhat envious of the twins' flawless pale faces, Gwyneth asked nonchalantly, "Natasha, where's Mr. Williams?"

"Miss Paltrow, the master is outside."

Gwyneth paused, hesitating to ask, "You... call him master?"

The twin nodded without a change in expression and asked, "Miss Paltrow, would you like breakfast?"

"Yes, please prepare a fruit salad with honey, and I'd like a cup of milk slightly warmed to 40 degrees if possible. Oh, and please bring it outside; I want to eat in the garden," Gwyneth semi-processed the odd address before giving a command as if she were the owner of the house.

"Sure, Miss Paltrow," Natasha nodded and quietly walked away.

Gwyneth stood there momentarily stunned, thinking how nice it would be to have such obedient servants serving her all the time.

She quickly perked up and went outside.

The outside of the villa featured a square swimming pool bordered by lawns and some bushes; to the west was the driveway leading to the gate, which had quite a large area for temporary parking, while to the east, a small path extended out to a triangular terrace that overlooked all of Los Angeles.

Gwyneth immediately spotted Eric sitting at a long table on the terrace, seemingly on a phone call. The table was strewn with a laptop, a fax machine, and a stack of documents. One of the twins sat quietly at the entrance of the terrace, engrossed in a book.

Though the scene felt a little odd, Gwyneth approached without hesitation. However, just as she reached the entrance to the terrace, the twin stood up and stepped in front of her. "Sorry, Miss Paltrow, the master is on the phone."

Even knowing she wasn't speaking to Eric directly, the two identical girls' sharply different attitudes made Gwyneth feel unsettled. "I just want to say hi to Mr. Williams. I won't interrupt him."

The twin continued to silently shake he head, making it clear she wouldn't let her through. Noticing Eric looking over, Gwyneth eagerly waved at him.

Eric smiled and nodded, saying a few words to the person on the other end before hanging up. "Natasha, let Gwyneth come over."

"Sure, Master," Natasha replied softly, quietly stepping aside and sitting back down to read her book.

With a spring in her step, Gwyneth moved forward, only to suddenly tone down her movements and greeted Eric politely. "Morning, Eric."

"Morning," Eric chuckled lightly, showing no concern for her overly casual demeanor as he took a seat in front of the laptop and opened a document.

Originally sitting across from Eric, Gwyneth immediately rose and moved beside him, glancing at the laptop screen just in time to see the YCR software icon on his desktop. "Eric, you use YCR too? I have it! Can I have your number?"

"Sorry, Gwyneth, this is for work. I don't add personal friends."

Gwyneth persisted, "Oh, don't you have a personal number?"

*****

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