Chapter 735 - 736: Not Violence

Chapter 735: Chapter 736: Not Violence[Chapter 736: Not Violence]

Filming of the show Project Runway extended into the evening, with several contestants completing the theme of the competition: resort swimwear.

At this time, models had already donned the contestants' creations. Although it had reached quitting time, the day's work was not over yet. Designers participating in the evening's competition would host their models and designs at a fashion party, showcasing their work to a prominent fashion columnist from a daily newspaper under the Hearst Corporation, who would also serve as a guest judge for the theme.

Elizabeth Hurley had stayed by Eric's side all afternoon, watching the crew pack up equipment in preparation for the move. She said, "Eric, I can sense that you're not entirely satisfied with their work, but why don't you offer them some pointers?"

Eric felt that his presence had made many crew members nervous. He knew that if he intervened too much in the production, it would only leave them feeling more uncertain. This was the main reason he had taken on a more observer role throughout the afternoon.

Moreover, most detail issues fell within his tolerance. Even if adjustments were necessary, he could discuss them privately with Linda. Hearing Elizabeth's question, Eric casually replied, "No one can do a job perfectly; some minor slip-ups are inevitable."

At that moment, Linda Evangelista walked over with the director of the crew. She said, "Eric, the crew is heading to the park in New York next. I need to attend the party tonight to shoot some scenes; are you coming along?"

Eric wasn't interested in the over-hyped event, especially one organized last minute just for shooting. He shook his head, saying, "I'll pass. I plan to head back early to rest," he added, glancing at Elizabeth, "Liz, I'm sure you'd be interested in this. Go enjoy the night with Linda."

Elizabeth said playfully as she sensed an opening. "Eric, I actually don't care much for parties either; they can get too loud."

Linda eyed Elizabeth, who seemed overly familiar, with a slight smirk. She exchanged a few words with the director and turned to Eric, saying, "If you don't want to go, that's fine. The shoot starts at eight; let's go grab dinner first."

They found a nearby restaurant, and after dinner, Linda noticed how Elizabeth continued to cling to Eric without any signs of leaving. She silently cursed Cindy for this behavior and unwillingly headed off to work.

...

It was already past seven-thirty in the evening, and the bright lights of Manhattan illuminated the streets.

Eric personally drove Linda to the location of the night's shoot and gently kissed her goodbye. Returning to the car, he looked at the lazily reclining Elizabeth, a smirk forming on his lips. "Liz, where do you live? Should I take you back?"

With Linda gone, Elizabeth ignored the driver in the front and boldly leaned closer, the perfect scent of her perfume enveloping Eric. "Eric, can't I go to your place for a cup of coffee?"

"Let's head to my apartment on Sixth Avenue," Eric instructed the driver, putting up the divider. He then casually pushed away the light and seemingly fragile woman leaning against him, taking a moment to admire her beautiful face and curvy figure. With a teasing smile, he half-joked, "Liz, let me give you a heads-up. I can be quite aggressive."

Feeling exposed under his unabashed gaze, Elizabeth shivered slightly, a wave of nerves washing over her. However, recalling Linda and Cindy, she quickly realized Eric was joking. After all, if he were genuinely as he claimed, neither Cindy nor Linda would be so close to him.

As her worries subsided, Elizabeth playfully licked her lower lip, retorting, "Eric, I can be quite aggressive too."

"Oh, now I'm intrigued," Eric replied, taken aback but laughing.

They arrived at Eric's luxurious apartment located on the top levels near Central Park. Elizabeth was taken aback by the grandeur of the duplex, spanning two floors with a rooftop garden. Frequenting the upper-crust crowd, she had a good grasp of its worth but soon felt reassured about Eric's wealth.

Peering through the glass walls, she noted the clock showed eight o'clock. The Manhattan skyline sparkled with lights. With summer nights being long, the distant sky still glimmered, and barefoot on the slightly cool floor, Elizabeth leisurely strolled around the living room.

Eric, however, had different plans. He sat on the sofa, picked an apple from the fruit bowl on the coffee table, took a knife nearby, and began casually cutting it, glancing around at the relaxed woman. "Help yourself to whatever you want to drink," he said.

Elizabeth nodded and walked over to the liquor cabinet in the corner. She randomly selected a bottle of red wine, a Romanee-Conti from 1972. Raising an eyebrow, she turned to glance at Eric, who was lounging, and let out a self-deprecating laugh, thinking how she almost considered pocketing the bottle, knowing it could fetch at least a few thousand dollars.

"Eric, can I open this?" she asked, raising the wine bottle.

Eric, who rarely drank wine and had forgotten much of what Drew had shared about his collection, took a nonchalant look at the bottle and nodded, "If you like it, open it."

Elizabeth glanced around, found a corkscrew, and once she opened it with a light pop, a smile crept onto her lips. She measured out two glasses, but instead of rushing back to Eric, she chose a jazz album from the record player. As the soft jazz filled the room, she turned off the main lights, leaving only a soft glow from a wall lamp. Then she brought a small tray to Eric.

Placing it on the coffee table, Elizabeth flashed her bright green eyes and snatched the apple and knife from Eric, tossing them aside. She handed him a glass and settled across from him, raising her own glass. "Cheers!"

Eric smiled and took a sip, savoring the wine's tangy flavor, rich and smooth.

Looking at the vibrant woman whose toes brushed against his leg, Eric asked, "Has anyone ever told you which color of clothes suits you best?"

"No, not really. I usually prefer more casual clothes," she replied. "But what color do you think I should wear?"

"Red - passionate, wild, and vibrant. Very few women can pull off red, but you definitely can."

Elizabeth cast a sultry glance Eric's way and replied, "That's a compliment, right?"

"Absolutely," Eric confirmed with a nod.

Feigning disappointment, Elizabeth said, "I do have a red dress, but unfortunately, I can't wear it for you right now."

"That's fine; there will be plenty of opportunities."

"Yeah, tons of opportunities," Elizabeth said, finishing her glass of wine and tossing it aside. Leaning back slightly, she placed her hands on the coffee table. "That reminds me, Eric, isn't time running out for us tonight?"

"Oh, it's only eight o'clock. I didn't think you'd have this much faith in me."

Elizabeth caught his double entendre and smiled flirtatiously. "What was it you said in the car? I'm waiting to see."

"Funny, I was thinking about the contestants from Project Runway this afternoon. Honestly, when I was younger, I considered the idea of becoming a fashion designer."

"Oh," Elizabeth replied, not quite understanding.

Just then, she watched as Eric stood and picked up the knife she had tossed aside. He approached her, reaching for her while guiding her to lie down on the coffee table.

"Eric... what are you doing?" she stammered nervously.

He chuckled softly, pressing on her waist. "Don't move, darling. I want to study the construction of this dress."

As he spoke, Elizabeth felt the cool blade gently touch the neckline of her black dress, the whisper of silk tearing filled the air.

Watching the focused expression on his face above her, Elizabeth felt slightly more at ease, confirming he wouldn't cut her. However, she soon lamented the fate of her dress. "Eric, if you ruin this dress, what will I wear tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow's problems can wait until tomorrow."

"Okay," she conceded, feeling the chilly blade slide down her chest as the fabric split down the middle. An exhilarating sensation coursed through her, but she held her ground and said, "Eric, I think this is not violence, but being too aggressive."

"Oh, perhaps," he teased.

Eric's knife skills were surprisingly impressive, and soon her elegant black dress was reduced to a square of fabric, laid out like a rare offering on the table, its perfect form resembling an extraordinary masterpiece of tablecloth craftsmanship.

Amid Elizabeth's soft moans, Eric toyed with this newly revealed creation, reaching for the nearby tray of red wine and pouring it over the cloth.

...

The morning sun poured warmly over Eric as he sat in the rooftop garden, reading that day's newspaper and leisurely enjoying breakfast.

It was July 19th, a Wednesday.

Six days had passed since the recent releases of Night at the Museum and Eraser. While detailed figures weren't available yet, most media outlets had already been abuzz with excitement over the strong box office performance of Night at the Museum.

Despite the competitive pressure exerted by new and older films, Night at the Museum had triumphed, accumulating nearly sixty million dollars in its first three days and was projected to surpass eighty million dollars in its opening week - possibly even reaching ninety million. Searᴄh the NôvelFire.nёt website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

The film's production cost was a reasonable seventy million dollars. In contrast, the action blockbuster Eraser featuring Arnold Schwarzenegger had a staggering one hundred million dollar production budget, but it only earned about twenty-five million in its opening weekend -- less than half of Night at the Museum's earnings.

At this point, many in the media recollected Eric's advocacy last year for reducing star salaries and cutting production costs.

Everyone undoubtedly remembered how other production companies maintained an ambiguous stance, echoing neither support nor opposition. It was Warner Bros. who first broke the impasse, giving in to their famous actors and pledging their intent by signing multi-million deals for high-budget movies like Waterworld, Eraser, and Heat, among others.

Now, the comparison of Waterworld's one hundred and seventy-five million dollar budget with its dismal box office return of around forty million had caused Warner's shares to drop by more than ten percent. Although Eraser's box office can't be termed a failure, as it performed notably better than the earlier release Fair Game, it still significantly lagged compared to other summer films within the Firefly system -- especially when lined up against Night at the Museum.

On Friday, Warner Bros. was set to release its last summer movie of the year, Heat, which also boasted a budget of ninety million dollars. The film was set to compete with the MGM's next James Bond film, GoldenEye, which was expected to shine.

The Easter egg for this 007 entry had already appeared at the end of Charlie's Angels last year, causing quite a stir. Fans had been anticipating this film for a whole year, spurred by rumors of GoldenEye featuring a similarly exciting Easter egg for Charlie's Angels 2, leading both James Bond and Charlie's Angels fandoms into a frenzy.

It was evident that in the face of this highly-anticipated blockbuster, the three-hour-long Heat held virtually no competitive edge.

At this time, aside from overt mockery, the media had shifted focus away from Warner Bros., which was destined for box office ruin this year. Many were now keenly watching Flower Films, which was in its last stages of negotiations for a takeover of MGM.

Everyone recognized that Flower Films was backed by Firefly. Once the acquisition was completed, it would grant Firefly control over two-sevenths of Hollywood, while maintaining influence over Fox. As for Sony-Columbia, no one believed this Japanese-owned studio could escape Firefly's looming shadow.

*****

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