Chapter 198: Plans

[Chapter 198: Plans]

Jeffrey did not leave; instead, he sat next to Eric on the sofa in his office, eating lunch while discussing a few issues.

"Eric, apart from the budget for Running Out of Time, none of our films have gone over $25 million. Are you really going to give Robert Shea a $50 million budget for two films? Doesn't that seem a bit excessive?"

Upon hearing this question, Eric's expression tightened. He quickly finished his lunch from the takeout container, pushed it aside, and pulled out a napkin to wipe his mouth. "I wish it were different, but if I want Robert to perform at his best, I have to give him some incentives. It's just $50 million, and while I said I would leave everything to him, if Robert picks a bad film, you can bet I won't sign off on the project."

Jeffrey had no doubt about Eric's judgment in films and felt relieved to hear him say that. "But, Eric, giving Robert too much power can't be good either."

"There's no need to worry," Eric replied, signing a document before moving on to the next one while he perused it carefully. "Once we consolidate New Line's resources and completely integrate it with Firefly Films, the rest will be much simpler."

Jeffrey's heart raced as he thought about how shrewd Eric was; he was already plotting to get rid of Robert Shea. However, Eric certainly had that kind of power. After all, Robert only held 15% of the shares, while Eric had absolute control. To remove Robert from his position, he wouldn't even need a meeting -- just a signature on a document.

"Are you worried I might kick Robert out once I've used him up?" Eric asked with a laugh, looking up at Jeffrey.

Jeffrey awkwardly chuckled but admitted, "It does feel a bit like that."

"You know me, Jeffrey. I'm not that cold-hearted. If Robert sticks to his role and does his best in his capacity, I wouldn't dream of doing something like that. The problem is, he has big ambitions. You must have noticed that he brought all those people today. It's a show of force, trying to prove how important he is to Firefly."

"I suddenly have my worries too," Jeffrey said. "Look, those people are all Robert's right-hand men. If you end up firing him in the future, would they leave with him?"

Eric shook his head, looking relaxed. "Do you really think if Firefly does well, those guys will quit their six-figure salaries and bonuses to follow him into the unknown? Or that other major studios have that many positions waiting for them? It's unlikely. If Robert leaves, I'll just find another CEO to manage the established distribution channels."

"But..."

Eric interrupted, speaking patiently. "Jeffrey, you really don't need to stress about this. I mentioned I might let Robert go, but that doesn't have to be the case. Maybe in a year or two, he'll realize where his talents lie and focus solely on distribution without meddling in production, and I won't have to worry about this at all. His skills in film distribution are undeniable."

"I get it," Jeffrey nodded resignedly and went back to his lunch.

...

There were several knocks at the door before it opened without permission. Drew burst in wearing a T-shirt and shorts, jumping onto Eric with her happy chatter and immediately asking about last night's events.

Standing at the door, Allen patiently smiled as he watched the girl and Eric joke around. When Eric finally shifted his attention to him, Allen said, "Eric, the luggage and car are ready to go. I think it's best we leave now to avoid any traffic."

"Let's head out then," Eric said, pulling Drew off his lap. "While I'm away these few days, you know where to find Jeffrey if you need anything. Don't cause any trouble."

"Come on, I'm not a kid," she protested, scratching his arm playfully. Then she added sweetly, "Eric, I want to go to Venice too."

"Forget it. You wouldn't handle it," Eric said, ruffling her fluffy hair. She'd recently cut her hair into an adorable bob, making him unable to resist touching it more often. "The flight from Los Angeles to Venice takes about 17 hours, and it has layovers."

Drew really wouldn't be able to stand being idle for 17 hours on a plane. He figured she'd end up causing some trouble, so she didn't press the issue. Hooking her arm through Eric's, she said, "Eric, let's just buy a private jet. Then, even if the flight's long, we won't get bored."

"Now's not the time for that," Eric shook his head. "Maybe in a year or two."

"Okay," Drew nodded. They all made their way downstairs, and she was the first to hop into the van. "I'll drive you to the airport."

"Eric, I won't go this time. I have some things to take care of," Jeffrey clapped Eric on the shoulder. "Have a safe trip."

"See you later, Jeffrey," Eric waved as he climbed in, and Allen took the passenger seat. Once he saw Eric and Drew settled in the back, he instructed the driver to hit the road.

He intended to go with Eric to Venice and had planned to find a translator since the locals spoke Italian. But conveniently, Allen's mother was Italian, and he grew up in both English and Italian environments, so he had no trouble speaking Italian. This saved them the hassle of finding a translator.

...

They were fortunate, as the drive from Burbank to Los Angeles International Airport only took an hour and ten minutes. They arrived with half an hour to spare before boarding, allowing Eric and Allen to handle the check-in smoothly.

"Allen, what are you looking through?" Eric asked curiously when he noticed Allen meticulously checking his backpack while they waited to board.

"A book. I brought a collection of Stephen King novels to read on the plane. Did you bring one, Eric?"

Eric shrugged. He had never been on such a long flight in his previous life. Moreover, Drew had packed his things the day before, and with her personality, it was unlikely she remembered to throw in a book.

"There are a few minutes left; maybe we can buy one. There's a superstore outside the lobby," Allen suggested.

"I'll go," Drew said, already racing out. "You guys wait here, and if I don't make it back in time, just board without me."

Eric was about to say it wasn't necessary, but the girl had already dashed out.

...

Just as Drew burst out of the terminal, the announcement for boarding came on, and Eric and Allen exchanged glances.

"Let's go. We might just make it," Eric urged, and Allen did not argue. They grabbed their luggage and headed toward the boarding gate.

Ten minutes later, only Eric and Allen remained at the gate, as all the other passengers had boarded. The staff nearby started nudging them to enter. Eric turned to look behind him for one last time when he saw Drew coming in a hurry. She ran up and shoved a thick hardcover book into Eric's hands without saying much, bent over panting, and waved a hand, signaling for them to go on.

Knowing he didn't need to be polite, Eric stuffed the book into his bag, said goodbye, and pulled his luggage through the gate.

The massive Boeing aircraft roared to life, leaving the ground before finally leveling out after a while.

...

In first class, Eric unbuckled his seatbelt, and Allen pulled out a schedule, introducing it to Eric.

"After a layover in London, we'll arrive in Venice on September 2nd at 3 PM local time. Mr. Damiani and Miss Madsen said they'd meet us at Marco Polo Airport. We have a meeting with director John Landis that evening, and there's nothing scheduled for the 3rd, so you can take a day to rest and adjust to the time difference. The film festival's opening ceremony is on the 4th, and the committee has invited you to the party afterwards. We have an afternoon flight back to Los Angeles on the 5th, which gets us back at 5 AM Eastern time on the 6th. Eric, is there anything else that needs to be noted?"

After patiently listening, Eric shook his head. "No, that sounds good."

If possible, he had already planned not to attend the Venice Film Festival. Although he initially intended to go, as the schedule tightened, he considered ditching it. However, after the festival learned of his potential appearance, they sent him an invitation, hoping he would join the opening ceremony.

Eric had no real aspirations for any awards for The Others; it was more about publicity when Michael Eisner proposed a promotional strategy aimed at giving the film a chance. Under those circumstances, Eric could no longer reject the invitation. Since it was personally signed by the head of this year's jury, Andrei Yermilov, the sincerity was evident. If Eric didn't show respect, it could leave a bad impression.

In contrast to the Oscar jury's scale of thousands, the Venice jury only had nine members who discussed awards in a more intimate setting.

Thus, to avoid The Others walking away empty-handed due to his personal decisions, Eric steeled himself for the trip.

With a weary sigh, he pushed those annoying thoughts aside and grabbed the book that Drew had bought for him.

Taking a glance at the cover, he couldn't help but laugh.

Walden.

What kind of book did this girl buy? Who is reading essays on a plane?

Oh well, he mused, it'll just have to serve as a sleep aid.

As he unwrapped the plastic covering from the book, he mulled this over.

*****

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