When that sissy, Renasi, opened his mouth, Ernst almost sprayed champagne onto his meticulously styled curly hair.
Who would have thought that this man, who spoke with a flick of his wrist, was actually the first assistant to David Greenblatt, one of the founders of Endeavor Agency?
Even more bizarre was that he was also his lover.
And he had come this time to be Jessica Alba’s escort.
He gesticulated wildly, proclaiming, “Jessica only sleeps five hours a day, she even practices her lines while pooping.
This girl is driven, and she will surely achieve her goals.” “Driven?” Ernst raised an eyebrow.
“In Hollywood, dreams are traded for ass.” Swirling his wine glass, the ice clinked crisply.
“Smart and diligent?
Which actress here doesn’t study acting by day and other activities by night?
Beauty?
It’s just an access card to the VIP section of a nightclub, nothing more.” “But Jessica is different.
Her effort, her appearance, her emotional intelligence, etc.
She possesses all the necessary conditions to become a top actress.
Hollywood is full of people selling their bodies, but how many succeed?” Ernst frowned.
“What does that have to do with me?” “I hope you can give her a break,” Renasi’s expression was very sincere.
“Now, let alone important roles, she’s not even getting auditions for the marginal ones.
Overnight, she’s like a pariah, shunned by all of Hollywood.” Ernst could have predicted such an outcome; the entertainment industry is very realistic.
No one would offend a Hollywood magnate like Ernst for such a minor character.
Although he hadn’t made any public statements, the outcome was already sealed the moment he took over MGM.
“And I’ve already had her release a statement, saying that all of this was just Jessica being used by others.” Seeing Ernst’s expressionless face, without any change, the other party continued, “Fame comes at a price; we all know that.” This was already an implicit hint, and Ernst was indeed somewhat tempted.
After all, this was Jessica Alba; in his previous life, he had only heard of her reputation.
“I have to say, you are a responsible agent.” As expected of one of the future Big Five, this sense of responsibility towards clients made it hard not to gain the favor of artists in this cold-hearted entertainment industry.
“Three years, on call.” When Ernst uttered these words, Renasi’s face instantly lit up as if struck by a searchlight.
He thanked him repeatedly, as happy as a gambler who had just won the jackpot.
“Thank you, Mr.
Ernst, for your generosity.
I will bring her to personally apologize.” Renasi emphasized the words “personally apologize,” clearly understanding Ernst’s meaning.
After that sissy walked away with a sway of his hips, Ernst ambled to the quiet poolside in the backyard and was almost scared into a heart attack by the movement in the bushes.
He saw that fat Craig standing furtively in the shadows, and Ernst’s expression was priceless once he recognized him.
“You’d better not touch me again, or I’ll kick you flying.” Hearing Ernst’s voice, Craig’s back-facing body visibly relaxed, followed by a big shudder.
He turned around, “You scared me!
Don’t you know that scaring people can kill them?” Ernst felt a wave of nausea, looking at the pants he had just pulled up, his feet unconsciously moving back two steps.
“This is Hollywood, full of beauties everywhere.
With your current status, do you still need to take care of yourself?
Isn’t a young model more appealing?” “Shh!” The other party told Ernst to lower his voice.
“I’m doing pre-battle preparations.” “Preparations for what?” Seeing that Craig’s right hand, which he had just used for his exertion, was now at his mouth, Ernst again retreated two steps, looking at him with disgust.
“You don’t know a thing.” Craig mysteriously crooked his finger, as if to say, ‘Come here,’ but Ernst remained unmoved.
That lewd expression made Ernst already plan his escape route.
“A man has to save his bullets; premature release allows for endurance!
Many Hollywood bigwigs do this.” This logic made Ernst feel sick, and he couldn’t bring himself to compliment it.
He quickly sent him away, then found a lounge chair and lay down to enjoy some quiet.
Unexpectedly, as soon as he closed his eyes, a loud splash broke the silence.
Opening his eyes, five bikini-clad women suddenly emerged from the pool, each moving like freshly oiled machines, splashing water everywhere.
The most striking was a hot girl with a generous bust; her bikini fabric was pitifully scant, and every breath seemed like a tug-of-war with gravity.
“A debauched paradise?” Ernst murmured to himself, a wicked smile playing on his lips.
“As expected, they’re not simple; they really know how to seize an opportunity.” He picked up a cherry from a nearby fruit platter, swirled it, and squatted by the pool, as if a master giving orders.
“Four laps.
Whoever eats this first gets an audition opportunity.” Seeing the women exchange glances, still maintaining their composure, Ernst chuckled.
“10, 9, 8…” Hearing Ernst count down, all their composure was instantly thrown out the window.
Everyone gathered around Ernst, waiting for his signal.
When “1” was called, five graceful figures simultaneously plunged into the water, like a school of fish, swimming more fiercely than Olympic athletes.
The pool was not small; four laps were approximately two hundred meters.
The first to arrive was a pure-looking young woman.
Her figure was petite, and her appearance was striking.
Her age seemed similar to Jessica’s.
However, she knew how to win a man’s favor.
Her delicate lips not only ate the cherry but also included Ernst’s finger.
Ernst could clearly feel his index finger being deftly and playfully stirred in her mouth, winding around like a tango, making his heart itch and involuntarily conjuring certain images.
He withdrew his finger, caressed her cheek, and with a devil-may-care attitude, asked, “What’s your name?” “Jennifer, Jennifer Hewitt.” Due to the angle, Jennifer’s upward gaze appeared a bit unfocused, yet it was indescribably seductive.
“I’ve noted it.
Go back and hone your acting skills; I’ll give you a chance.” Looking at the girls’ lingering gazes, clearly expecting him to initiate another competition, Ernst, however, stood up and left directly, without any intention of taking the winner with him.
It wasn’t about pretending to be a gentleman, but he indeed had an appointment tonight.
As he passed the front yard, Frank was still talking to the 20th Century Fox people.
The light reflected from the champagne glass mirrored the sneer on Ernst’s lips.
The tug-of-war over the Iron Man copyright had just begun, but Ernst was already determined to win.
20th Century Fox would not offer a very high price for Iron Man; there was no suspense in the copyright battle.
Want the highest bidder?
Frank had miscalculated.