Chapter 225: First House

In the scorching Los Angeles June, the peak of the year had arrived, not just for the sweltering weather but also for beverages, notably the two cola giants.

Coca-Cola had rebranded its product, featuring a plethora of Coca-Cola bottles adorned with Martin's image, effectively breathing new life into the brand. The Coca-Cola concept was turning heads, especially among the younger crowd.

Within a fortnight, news that Martin would be bestowed with the Presidential Medal of Freedom in Washington had spread like wildfire, partly due to Coca-Cola's promotional efforts. This hot momentum translated into a surge in Coca-Cola sales.

From supermarkets to convenience stores to street billboards, posters and advertisements starring Martin graced every corner. The color red symbolized intensity and vibrancy, while blue made an unwilling bid to stand out.

In response, Pepsi launched a two-page advertisement focusing on sports and entertainment, featuring stars whose hair had all been dyed the iconic Pepsi blue. This sparked a media frenzy.

"Observe Martin's sophistication and compare it to Pepsi's odd photos—let's decide!" one debate raged.

"I didn't expect Pepsi to match Coke's godlike concept, but isn't this a bit lackluster?" another chimed in.

"Coca-Cola utilized only Martin Davis to outshine a slew of entertainment and sports icons, including Britney and Beckham."

Die-hard Pepsi supporters rallied to counter, asserting, "Red and blue just don't mix!"

The online battleground was set, but Martin remained a continuous focal point. Much like the cola market, red enthusiasts held the upper hand, ensuring Martin's positive impact.

In the Pacific Pictures office, Thomas rubbed his weary eyes and glanced up from his computer screen. Jessica, dark circles under her eyes, remarked, "Our sides are locked in an online dispute, and Coca-Cola isn't letting up anytime soon."

Emily, fatigued, stretched and declared, "I've been working over ten-hour days for days on end. I can't take it anymore. I need to get some beauty sleep."

Since returning from Atlanta, Thomas had been far from idle. Alongside his search for new opportunities for Martin, he was also deeply involved in Coca-Cola's publicity and promotion efforts, resulting in long days of effort.

As the three toiled, carrying substantial workloads, Bruce's car left North Hollywood and ventured into Sherman Oaks.

Antonio, in the backseat with a protruding belly, remarked, "You know, that house in Malibu isn't bad. It's perched on a hill, offers splendid views, and isn't too expensive. You can likely snag it for $2.6 million."

Martin shook his head thoughtfully. "But there's only one way out. If there's a wildfire on the mountain, there's nowhere to escape."

Antonio, somewhat surprised by Martin's thought process, said, "Malibu hasn't seen a wildfire in years."

Martin's recollection of wildfire-related gossip was sketchy, but he knew Malibu had a longstanding association with both celebrities and wildfires. The idea of purchasing a house only to see it burn down was not appealing.

"Charbroiled Martins and Blues?" he mused. The thought of it had an element of thrill.

Bruce continued driving until they reached Coty Road, home to a new Sherman Oaks community. The houses in this community, built in the past three years, were individual villas with spacious courtyards, ranging from 500 to 800 square meters.

Following Antonio's directions, the car halted at a courtyard entrance.

The wrought-iron gate opened, flanked by tall palm trees. Martin surveyed the walled area, estimating it at about 25 by 30 meters.

Antonio made a call and gestured towards the gate.

Bruce smoothly drove inside.

The front yard featured a lush green lawn and an elongated swimming pool. The villa, following the typical Los Angeles style with white walls and red-tiled roof, had an inverted L shape.

Garrison, the real estate agent they'd arranged to meet, stood on the front steps of the house.

As the car stopped, Martin stepped out, casting a glance at Antonio, who was struggling to disembark, and offered a helping hand.

Antonio sighed, "I'm getting old, and my legs aren't what they used to be."

"You're not old, you're just a bit on the heavy side," Martin quipped, patting Antonio's belly, which resembled a pregnancy bump. "You should consider losing weight."

Antonio shook his head. "It's too painful. I'd rather lie in bed from now on."

Garrison hastened to greet Martin, extending his hand. "Mr. Davis, it's an honor to assist you."

Martin replied graciously, then took in the surroundings. The walls provided ample privacy, and there was a garage attached to the auxiliary building in an inverted L shape. On one side, a barbecue grill was set up, convenient for outdoor self-service grilling and hosting gatherings.

Garrison, displaying keen discernment, suggested, "Shall we explore this direction?"

Martin followed suit, while Bruce, concerned about Antonio's wobbling belly, walked beside him, ready to lend support.

Antonio had informed Martin beforehand that this was a freshly renovated house and wisely refrained from sharing further details to avoid influencing Martin's judgment.

The auxiliary building's garage could comfortably accommodate three cars. Inside the building, there was a cozy small living room on the first floor and several bedrooms on the second. A corridor connected it to the main building and the master bedroom.

Bruce strolled purposefully and appeared satisfied. Being cautious, he knew the Russians were potential threats, so he planned to stay in Martin's house for an extended period, residing in the annex building to respond swiftly if needed.

Bruce had no doubt that Martin, being the mischievous character he was, would engage in various antics, and his presence wouldn't deter Martin's mischief.

Moving from the second floor to the main building, they discovered two sets of bedrooms upstairs. The master bedroom was generously sized and featured an extra-large balcony capable of accommodating more than ten people comfortably.

The first floor boasted a conventional array of rooms, including a living room, study, dining room, and entertainment room. Martin particularly favored the entertainment room, which included a small four-seat screening room.

The main building also boasted a basement, divided into three sections: a small wine cellar, a storage room, and a fitness room. Like most luxury homes for sale, it was offered complete with furnishings and decor.

Martin, having inspected the house, returned to the living room and inquired directly, "What's the asking price?"

Garrison promptly responded, "With all the furnishings and appliances, it's priced at $2.45 million."

Martin had a clear understanding of the house's value, and the price seemed reasonable. Sherman Oaks, situated in the affluent vicinity of Beverly and Brentwood, was a wealthy area. While the Coty community was in the middle of Sherman Oaks, it wasn't on the priciest mountainside or hillside.

Martin was targeting Louise's property, not the likes of MJ's Neverland Ranch or Pitt and Aniston's $40 million mansion. With more places to see, he was in no rush to make a decision. "I'll think about it," he declared.

The trio returned to the car, left the Coty community, and ascended the mountainside. Martin inquired, "What are your thoughts, Bruce?"

Bruce, prioritizing safety, remarked, "Not bad. The high wall provides ample privacy. It'll also facilitate the installation of early warning systems."

Bruce believed that Martin, known for his mischievous tendencies, would undoubtedly stir up some trouble. His presence wouldn't hinder Martin's antics.

The group moved on to another house, which they quickly dismissed. It was beautiful, featured advanced amenities, but covered an extensive area of nearly 1,200 square meters and came with a hefty price tag of $4 million.

Martin continued to explore, checking out a seaside villa. While a sea-view room might be suitable for short vacations, it would be less convenient for extended stays, not to mention the steep price tag.

They reached Binhai Road, found an open-air ice cream shop, and sat in the sun while enjoying their cold drinks.

Antonio, wiping sweat from his brow, mentioned, "There are two more places in Brentwood, but they're pricier, over $4.5 million."

Martin waved off the idea. "No need to check those."

Antonio added, "I've viewed several places, and the real estate company owner is a friend of mine. I can help you negotiate a lower price."

Bruce, setting down his iced Coke, glanced at Martin and asked, "Do you want to see more, or have you made your choice?"

Martin made his decision clear, "Just the one in the Cotis Community."

Antonio recalled something, "I know the chairman of the Cotis Community Committee; I'll introduce you later."

Martin, curious, remarked, "I didn't realize you had so many connections."

Antonio, finishing his cold drink in one gulp, responded, "I'm a veteran millionaire."

Bruce envied Antonio's fortune, jesting, "When I'm older, I'll buy an apartment building and become a landlord."

The idea of becoming a landlord sounded appealing, and Martin couldn't help but recall his past life, where landlords seemed to enjoy both wealth and luxury. Many aspiring actresses, dreaming of stardom, ended up living far from Hollywood due to unpaid rent.

During their drive back to North Hollywood, Antonio made a call. After chatting for at least half a minute, the Cotis community house's price dropped from $2.45 million to $2.35 million.

Martin remarked to the portly landlord, "I'll have to owe you a big favor."

Antonio playfully reminded him, "I have crocodile tooth pendants and horn carvings."

Martin appeared surprised by the multitude of gifts he was yet to discover. He wished he had kept a more detailed list to avoid the embarrassment of unequal gifting.

Bruce chuckled at the situation.

Antonio mentioned, "You don't need to gift me anything. Everyone knows you've been living in my North Hollywood apartment. It's become incredibly hard to find an apartment now, with rents nearly doubling from last year. Many young actors are aspiring to follow in your footsteps."

Antonio's tone shifted suddenly. "But that's not all—I've introduced clients to Dr. Hyena over the past six months and received substantial referral fees."

Martin shook his head, "You're truly a master provocateur."

The house price was determined after thorough research. Martin knew it wasn't an exorbitant amount, considering his experience in the Los Angeles real estate market from 2002 to 2006.