制霸好莱坞

"Sir, madam, have you decided on your order?"

It was no coincidence that just as the tension between them was at its peak, the waiter arrived to ask about the menu, easing the atmosphere without them realizing.

"I'll have the seafood platter for two as an appetizer," Cesare decided quickly, "and I'll have a veal steak, medium-rare, with mashed potatoes and lobster tomatoes as sides. Two types of wine—pick what pairs well."

The waiter quickly jotted down the order, then looked at Jenny with Cesare.

Jenny thought of the tempting aroma of the veal steak and the smooth, slightly bitter aftertaste of the red wine. Even the scent of bread was a strong temptation for her. She had been working nonstop for almost a week, and she hadn't eaten lunch yet.

But this also meant a week without exercise, and every bite of delicious food now could easily turn into fat on her face or body.

"I'll have the tuna salad, thank you," she said, surprised by her calm tone. She added somewhat recklessly, "Please don't add any dressing."

The waiter's attitude quickly turned cold, but Jenny didn't mind. In fine dining establishments, waiters often respect their guests' food preferences more. A customer like her, who was clearly on a strict diet, was less welcome than a tourist.

Cesare, on the other hand, seemed slightly approving. He said, "I guess you probably didn't have time for lunch."

"Yes, but I've been working for five days straight with no time for exercise," Jenny shrugged. "At times like this, do I crave good food? Yes, but I crave success more."

"Very well," Cesare praised her without hesitation. "You've been surprising me, Miss Jefferson. Now, please allow me to apologize for my oversight. I should have considered Jim's abilities, but my busy schedule clearly led to some neglect."

Jenny raised an eyebrow. "You mean, you thought I could make it to dinner on time and didn't expect this rush?"

"I came from humble beginnings," Cesare said. "When I was working in the mailroom, there was a time when I had to run an errand for Ino Martin, picking up Julia Roberts for a dinner—she was filming My Best Friend's Wedding at Universal Studios, directed by P.J. Hogan. Both of them had difficult personalities, and I had only been with the company for less than three months. Julia had already told Martin that she didn't want to attend the dinner, and Hogan had scheduled the shoot until 9 p.m."

Jenny became intrigued. "How did you manage to convince her?"

"That's the problem," Cesare said. "In three hours, I got Julia looking stunning at the dinner, while Jim's job today is only to get you a dress, have you finish work on time, change, and then come over. There's no fixed evaluation standard for agents, and that's why the difference between good and bad can be huge."

"I get your point," Jenny said. "You misjudged Jim's ability rather than miscalculating the time—though, I still can't let it go. You know, the most important thing for an agent is their judgment—if you misjudged Jim's ability and miscalculated time, the former seems like a bigger issue."

"Ah." Cesare smiled faintly, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. Jenny had yet to see any genuine emotion from him. "I see now, you're a smart girl."

The waiter brought out the wine and filled both their glasses. Jenny raised her glass toward Cesare. "In Hollywood, that's not a disadvantage, right?"

"Of course not," Cesare made space for the waiter to place a seafood platter in front of them. "If you've been dieting, I wouldn't recommend oysters or scallops baked with cheese—they'll be too heavy on your stomach. But you could try the baked cuttlefish; it's lighter, lower in calories, and still quite tasty."

"Thanks for the suggestion," Jenny said, her mouth watering. God, the last time she indulged in such a feast seemed like a lifetime ago.

They lapsed into silence for a moment, silently eating the appetizers. Jenny thought the food was absolutely delicious. She ate two pieces of the baked cuttlefish and a small slice of bread before stopping.

Cesare topped off her wine. "A side note—your little dress is made from a T-shirt, right? Very clever."

"Thanks," Jenny said, feeling a bit proud. "But I didn't have time to do my makeup, so I just put on lipstick in the elevator."

"With your looks and age, makeup isn't a must," Cesare said matter-of-factly, his gaze wandering over her without any lewd intent. "In fact, I feel more confident about you without makeup—you're still beautiful."

No woman dislikes being complimented, and Jenny was no exception. Under the influence of fine food and sweet words, she relaxed and couldn't help but smile at Cesare. "Thanks for the compliment—but don't think this will make me forget the earlier issue."

"Looks like I didn't manage to get away with it," Cesare took a sip of his wine. "It was indeed my mistake, whether it was misjudging the time or misjudging a colleague, it's your choice how you understand it."

"Then I'll be deducting some points from you," Jenny said, determined not to let this advantage slip. She stared at Cesare, "I'm very curious about one more thing. You're an agent, and let's be blunt—agents and pimps essentially do the same job, trading someone's labor for money. Of course, many agents double as pimps."

Cesare's lips curled into a polite smile again. "I don't object to that."

"So here's the question, Mr. Vieri," Jenny asked curiously, "Have you ever seen a pimp who's as high-status as you? I mean, how do you use this face to fight for your clients' interests? We all know that in Hollywood, everything is about connections. From what I've seen today, I find it hard to believe you have any friends."

"Good question," Cesare remained calm. "For your question, I'll give three answers: No. For most agents, being friendly and approachable is indeed a necessary trait. Yes, I don't have many friends. And no, I don't wear this face when facing film producers. When necessary, I can be polite and witty, but I prefer not to waste that energy on the target audience."

"So, you mean I'm not worth you pretending for?" Jenny pressed.

"You're not worth it," Cesare said, his blue eyes sharp and deep. "Because you don't care about my indifference. Miss Jefferson, I trust my judgment on that."

Jenny opened her mouth, then closed it again. What could she say? She didn't care about Cesare's indifference, as long as he proved himself to be a good agent. She wouldn't mind if he never spoke to her directly and only communicated through emails.

"As for your fourth point, I agree. In Hollywood, everything is about connections. I believe a good agent should have the following qualities: first, a sharp eye for talent; second, foresight in market analysis; third, a vast and influential network; fourth, excellent control over their clients," Cesare signaled to the waiter to clear the appetizer platter. "Miss Jefferson, do you agree with my view?"

Jenny nodded. "I'll reserve judgment on the first point, since you misjudged Jim, but…" She smiled. "You did pick me, and even canceled your trip to New York for me, so I'm inclined to believe you have a pretty sharp eye. As for the second point, you were right to advise Jennifer Bell against Pearl Harbor. The box office was abysmal. And the fourth point—oh, Mr. Vieri, you're definitely a control freak. No doubt about that."

"So now, we only have the third point left in question," Cesare said. "You don't believe my social skills can maintain a wide range of connections."

Jenny thought for a moment, then nodded. "Now, that's the only issue left."

The waiter brought out their steaks and salad, signaling a temporary pause in their conversation. Jenny envied the aroma from Cesare's plate as he ate quickly but with elegance.

"Back to Julia's story," Cesare took a sip of wine and set his utensils down. "—Apologies for my rapid eating; if you're interested, I didn't have lunch either. In three hours, I convinced Julia to appear at the dinner, and you want to know how I did it."

"Exactly," Jenny said, squinting as she speculated. "You didn't try flirting with Julia, did you? But even if she agreed, how did you convince the director to let her go? Did you flirt with him too?"

"I didn't need to," Cesare said nonchalantly. "My biological father is a senior vice president at MGM, my mother worked as a production manager at Disney, and my stepfather was a senior film buyer at Warner Bros. My great-grandfather was Rosy Manson, one of the founders of MGM. Julia and Hogan are family friends. That night, I brought Hogan to the dinner too."

He raised his glass, slightly tilting it toward Jenny in a toast. "This is one of the reasons why I became a senior agent in five years, Miss Jefferson. Maybe I can't claim to have the widest network in all of Hollywood, but I am certainly one of the most well-connected agents."

Jenny was speechless. Who said foreigners are all about business? Not using connections? In every corner of the world, connections are the most valuable resource, and foreigners are often even more open about using them—and proud of it.

She raised her glass. "So, you've definitely proven you'd be an excellent agent, and I believe you're also satisfied with me."

She clinked glasses with Cesare. "This toast is to our agent contract?"

Cesare shook his head, setting his glass down. His piercing blue eyes locked onto hers. "No, Miss Jefferson. This only proves you have the qualification and intention to sign a contract with me. Before we finalize anything, I have one last question."

Jenny furrowed her brow, suddenly feeling uncertain. "What is it?"

"What's your ultimate goal?" Cesare asked, his sharp gaze making Jenny feel like she couldn't lie. "Whatever it is, I won't judge. Just be honest with me."

Jenny's first instinct was to lie, but before she could speak, Cesare seemed to sense it. He quickly added, "Whether it's becoming an Oscar winner, a character actress, just wanting to make money, or marry into a rich family, you can be honest. I won't judge you, and in fact, I'll tell you, Miss Jefferson, no matter how you answer, I'll probably sign you."

"Uh," Jenny felt that if she didn't tell the truth now, Cesare might notice and get angry, so she reluctantly said, "You promise you won't laugh at me?"

"I promise."

"Okay," Jenny shrugged. "What do you think is the highest achievement a female actress can attain in Hollywood? Multiple awards? Top ten in box office earnings? A star on the Walk of Fame? Starting her own company, or even having her own cable network like Oprah?"

"Oprah doesn't have a cable network," Cesare said. "She has a production company, but yes, you're right, she represents a peak."

Jenny quickly glossed over this topic. "Well, you're right. She represents a peak."

She made a gesture indicating the height Oprah had reached, then used her other hand to cover it. "My goal is to go higher. I want my name to be immortalized in Hollywood history—I want, I must dominate Hollywood."

Cesare paused for a moment.