Chapter 115: The Number

[Chapter 115: The Number]

It was a secluded alley, and just a few steps to the left was the street. Eric had just stepped out with the girl when a thin figure darted over.

After being ushered out of the lobby by security, Vic noticed that Eric hadn't come out yet. He decisively ran towards the back door. Eric and Jennifer were both rookies when it came to handling paparazzi; they thought they had devised a good strategy by heading for the back door, but they vastly underestimated the savvy of the paparazzi.

Vic paid little attention to Eric's exit through the back. He didn't take any pictures this time, having accumulated enough intimate snapshots of the couple. Holding a recorder up to Eric's face, he asked, "Eric, is it true that Jennifer Connelly is your new girlfriend?"

Eric didn't respond and quickly pulled Jennifer Connelly towards the parking lot. However, the girl was wearing high heels, which meant they wouldn't be moving fast.

Vic kept pace beside Eric, relentlessly asking questions: "Eric, are you interested in the box office of your film?"

"How soon will filming start? Are Cruise and Hanks facing strong opposition from CAA like Richard Gere did back then?"

Even though Eric was a rookie at handling paparazzi, he remembered the most useful piece of advice: when sudden questions from paparazzi arose, no matter how provocative they were, it was best to say nothing. Because whatever you said, they would twist it to fit their narrative.

Seeing he was getting nothing out of Eric, Vic quickly shifted his focus to Jennifer: "Jennifer, when did you start dating Eric? Don't you mind that Eric has another girlfriend named Jennifer?"

"Jennifer, will you be playing the lead role?"

"Jennifer, are you going to move into Eric's mansion in Beverly Hills?"

"..."

Faced with Vic's relentless questioning, Jennifer's expression slowly turned impatient. Just as she was about to say something, Eric had already pulled her over to the Lamborghini, opened the door, and promptly shoved her inside.

"Hey, Eric, treating Miss Connelly so rudely suggests you two aren't in a romantic relationship. What exactly is your relationship? Is it some sort of arrangement? Eric, Eric..."

The Lamborghini's scissor doors closed, and Vic could only slap the tinted windows, raising his voice to ask more questions. Unfortunately for him, he was destined to receive no answers. The sports car slowly started up, disappearing into the flow of traffic.

...

Throughout the ride, Jennifer Connelly kept her head down, silent, and Eric, neither a gentleman nor particularly patient, had been planning to make a move on the girl that night. However, after the earlier situation, the questions Vic posed hinted at some sort of transaction between the actress and the male director. Considering Jennifer's feelings, Eric decided to back off -- at least, for the time being.

Eric had thought about possibly buying off Vic's film negatives to keep him quiet, especially since he was just one paparazzo. But given the fact he was still recording, there hadn't been an opportunity for him to speak up. Plus, such deals came with risks; if the negotiation failed and the price couldn't be settled, what had started as a simple movie outing could escalate into something much larger.

The Lamborghini stopped in front of the hotel where Jennifer was staying. The girl remained quietly seated, not in a hurry to push the door open, as if she was hesitating. Eric didn't rush her, his fingers drumming the steering wheel, thinking she was still shaken and needed a moment to collect herself.

"Mr. Williams," after a while, Jennifer Connelly finally lifted her head, mustering the courage to meet Eric's gaze, although her voice held a certain distance: "You haven't broken up with that girl named Jennifer Aniston, right?"

Eric's drumming fingers on the steering wheel suddenly halted. After a moment of hesitation, he nodded: "Yes."

Although she hadn't expected much, a somber expression crossed Jennifer Connelly's face: "Then, Mr. Williams, I think I might not be right for the role. You should consider someone else."

"If it's because of what the paparazzi said earlier, Jennifer, I won't bother you again," Eric assured her aimlessly, planning to keep her calm for the moment.

As expected, a look of struggle appeared on Jennifer's face, and ultimately her pride overcame her desire for fame: "I'm sorry, Eric. Even if nothing happens between us in the future, those newspapers will still say whatever they want. I don't want to be seen as... that kind of woman."

Eric stared at her for a long moment before he said, "Alright, as you wish."

Though he was assertive, he wasn't a bully, and since Jennifer Connelly was so resolute, he opted to let it go.

Yet, upon hearing Eric's words, Jennifer Connelly didn't show any signs of happiness. She realized what her decision meant -- likely, her career would now experience a downturn for quite some time.

Just as she was about to push the car door open and leave, Eric suddenly called out to her: "Jennifer, wait a second."

Reluctantly, Jennifer sat back down, looking at Eric in confusion. He rummaged through his pockets but couldn't find a business card or anything similar. Finally, he reached over for her handbag and pulled out a lipstick, forcibly taking her somewhat reluctant hand to quickly write down a string of numbers: "This is my home phone number. If you ever need my help, feel free to call me."

Jennifer glanced at the numbers on her palm, and after a moment, she nodded and thanked him before stepping out of the car. She walked into the hotel lobby, only daring to look back once she was inside, discovering that the Lamborghini was still parked in the same place, which prompted her to quickly turn away.

...

Back in her hotel room, she felt a wave of fatigue wash over her. After placing her handbag on the coffee table, she unzipped her long dress and changed into a shorter outfit, then walked into the bathroom. Turning on the faucet, she stared blankly at the number he had written on her hand, reaching out several times but hesitating to wash it away.

Finally, she sighed, went back to the living room, found her phonebook, and wrote down the number before returning to finish her shower.

Twenty minutes later, wrapped in a bathrobe and towel-drying her wet hair, she returned to the living room just in time to hear a knock on the door.

"Jennifer, I just heard a staff member say you were back. Why are you home?" Her agent, Lester, was filled with a sense of foreboding as he asked, his tone anxious.

"I'm sorry, Jim. I just turned down that role."

"You..." The premonition turned into reality, and Lester's lips trembled momentarily before he sighed in dismay, "Jennifer, you're being impulsive. Do you know how many girls want this role from Firefly Films? Over 2,800, but only around 200 even get auditions. I heard Eric Williams turned down a few A-list Hollywood actresses. If you see these numbers, you should understand how lucky you are."

*****

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