Chapter 677: A gift to Depp

Nestled on the tranquil outskirts of Los Angeles, a serene lake beckoned anglers to its shores. Among them was Joel Mandel, a seasoned fisherman whose passion for angling rivaled his expertise. With practiced hands, he settled into his seat, preparing his gear with meticulous care.

Beside him, Rogers, another avid angler and fellow investment manager, lent a hand, deftly tying a fishhook while sharing tales of imported Asian nest material. "This stuff," he grinned, "works wonders on Asian carp."

Though their acquaintance was brief, their shared profession and love for fishing forged an instant bond. Joel gratefully accepted the assistance, knowing well the value of good company on a fishing expedition.

As they cast their lines, anticipation hung thick in the air, mingling with the camaraderie of the dozen fishermen scattered along the shoreline. Joel's skill soon bore fruit as he hooked a sizable Asian carp, its weight straining against his line.

With Rogers's help, they triumphantly reeled in the catch, drawing admiration from their fellow anglers. "Looks like Joel might just break the club's record," Rogers called out, a hint of pride in his voice.

Amidst the excitement, Joel couldn't help but notice the signs of Rogers's prosperity – from his sleek BMW parked nearby to the prestigious Patek Philippe gracing his wrist. "You've been doing well for yourself lately," Joel remarked, curiosity piqued. "Any special investment opportunities?"

Rogers's smile was wry as he shrugged. "In this business, it's all about staying afloat," he mused, gesturing towards the competitive landscape of investment management. "We're just small fish in a big pond, trying to scrape by."

Their conversation drifted to the challenges of their profession, the pressures of pleasing demanding clients, and the ever-present pursuit of profit. Joel nodded in understanding, sharing his own frustrations with difficult customers.

As the afternoon wore on and the beers flowed freely, Rogers regaled Joel with tales of lavish fishing parties and extravagant pursuits funded by his wealth. Joel chuckled, recalling similar escapades of his own, the shared experiences deepening their bond.

Eventually, their conversation turned to their clients, exchanging anecdotes and insights gleaned from years of navigating the turbulent waters of investment management. In the fading light of the day, amidst the laughter and camaraderie, Joel found solace in the company of a fellow angler and friend.

Rogers's frustration bubbled over as he lamented the clientele he served, his words tinged with bitterness. "Those NBA stars and Hollywood big shots," he spat, "they're all clueless, just swimming in money they don't deserve. It's downright unfair."

Joel, nodding sympathetically, echoed his sentiments. "It's a travesty," he agreed. "We, with our skills and integrity, relegated to scraping by, while they revel in their ill-gotten wealth."

"They're parasites," Rogers continued, his tone growing more venomous with each sip of wine. "The wealth should be ours to manage, not theirs to squander. They belong back in the gutters where they came from."

Joel accepted the wine with a wry smile, understanding Rogers's unspoken desire for a more fulfilling life. "We deserve better," he murmured, raising his glass in a silent toast to their shared ambitions.

As the evening wore on and the wine flowed freely, their conversation delved deeper into their shared frustrations and aspirations. Ideas were exchanged, plans formed, all under the guise of ethical investment practices.

Meanwhile, amidst the glamour of Disney Studios, Martin, adorned in a spacesuit, meticulously prepared for his role in "The Martian." Surrounded by a sea of green screens and electronic gadgets, he immersed himself in the character, guided by the occasional advice of Phillips, the NASA consultant.

Between takes, Ridley Scott, the director, and Phillips huddled together, discussing the nuances of the upcoming scenes. Martin, a mere observer in this realm of filmmaking, listened intently, ready to embody whatever role was assigned to him.

As the discussion concluded, Martin retreated to the sidelines, his mind buzzing with anticipation for the next scene. Phillips joined him, their conversation shifting from the intricacies of filmmaking to more casual topics, bridging the gap between reality and the cinematic world they inhabited.

Martin leaned in, his curiosity piqued by the tantalizing prospect of Mars exploration. "Is NASA gearing up for a Mars landing anytime soon?" he inquired, his eyes alight with fascination.

Phillips, the NASA representative, shook his head solemnly. "Not in the foreseeable future," he replied. "NASA's focus lies elsewhere at the moment." Glancing at Martin's keen interest, he added, "You seem quite taken with aerospace. Are you considering getting involved?"

Martin shrugged nonchalantly. "Who isn't intrigued by rockets and space colonies?" he quipped, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

Phillips, noting Martin's influential connections, seized the opportunity. "NASA's hosting an investment event in California soon," he mentioned casually. "Would you be interested in attending?"

Martin's interest was immediately piqued. "What do I need to do?" he asked eagerly.

Phillips assured him, "Just a formal invitation from NASA. I can arrange it."

Martin motioned to Bruce, his assistant, who swiftly took note of the task and set the wheels in motion.

Later that afternoon, as filming wrapped for the day, Thomas, another member of Martin's team, relayed the news – NASA had responded, and the invitation would soon be en route to Los Angeles.

As they made their way to the dressing rooms, Bruce couldn't help but inquire, "Are you planning to invest in NASA projects?"

Martin's response was measured. "Let's see how it goes," he replied cryptically.

In the midst of the bustling studio, Andy Weir, the author of "The Martian," made a special appearance to present signed copies of his book to the crew. Martin and Bruce gratefully accepted their copies, exchanging pleasantries with the esteemed writer.

"Congratulations," Andy beamed, sharing the news of his book's success. "None of this would've been possible without you."

Martin returned the smile, acknowledging the sentiment. "You're on top of the world now," he remarked.

Andy's gratitude was palpable. "I owe it to you," he insisted. "And rest assured, our collaboration isn't over yet."

As the conversation shifted to potential future projects, Martin remained pragmatic. "Let me know when you have something new in the works," he urged. "We'll see what we can do."

Exiting the studio, Martin crossed paths with Louise, their conversation veering towards the completion of filming for "The Lone Ranger" and the impending wedding plans of Depp and Amber Heard.

Aware of Louise's involvement in negotiations with Depp's investment manager, Martin offered a word of caution. "Take your time," he advised. "We don't want to tip our hand too soon."

Across the street, Depp and Amber emerged from the studio, their entourage in tow. Martin's gaze lingered on them, a hint of disdain clouding his expression.

Sensing tension, Bruce kept a watchful eye on Depp's followers as they exchanged heated glares. As Depp made a crude gesture towards Martin, the tension escalated.

Undeterred, Martin instructed Bruce to keep tabs on Depp's movements. With a few swift calls, Bruce relayed the news – Depp and Amber were headed to Avenue Dior in Beverly Hills to shop for wedding attire.

Martin's lips curled into a mischievous smile. "Looks like it's time to pay them a visit," he remarked to Louise. "After all, what's a wedding without a few unexpected guests?"