I am Hollywood

[Chapter 1118: Unrecognizable]

"Hello, Lydia," Eric said, reaching out his hand to gently shake hers, smiling as he added, "Let me guess, you like horror movies?"

Lydia Hearst blinked her cat-like eyes, and suddenly flashed a mischievous smile. When she was quiet, her mouth was very small, fitting Eric's aesthetic perfectly, but when she smiled, it opened wide, her rosy lips parting on that delicate doll-like face, making her look even more like a little witch.

Smiling, she defensively shrank back a bit and said, "Mr. Williams, is this how a playboy approaches a girl?"

Eric nodded, looking a bit 'frustrated.' "Looks like this is going to fail; I used to succeed easily."

The girl huffed in a proud manner, glancing over at a distance, "I'm not one of those women who chase after you just because of your money."

"That's quite harsh," Eric chuckled and asked with interest, "Then what kind of guy do you like?"

"Well..." Lydia Hearst raised her chin thoughtfully and said, "First, he has to be loyal, not like some people."

"Alright, I'm completely out then."

"Second, he has to be considerate and a bit handsome, not too dull, and of course, he must have some talent," she listed out before glancing at Eric with a satisfied smirk, "Anyway, money isn't the most important thing."

"Of course," Eric nodded, "I'm sure you'll find that kind of guy very easily."

"Why?" Lydia instinctively asked back, then added in dissatisfaction, "Do you think I'm the kind of girl who's easy?"

"Definitely not," Eric laughed as he explained, "You see, saying money isn't the most important thing lowers the standards significantly. There are always too few wealthy people and too many without money. Among all those without money, isn't it easy to find the kind of guy you need? And, most importantly, you're a Hearst. Those guys, even if they don't meet your standards, would 100% try to be what you want just to get with a Hearst, especially a beautiful one at that."

Lydia Hearst listened to Eric's words, slightly stunned, tilting her head and furrowing her brow.

Eric raised his glass of red wine and took a sip, continuing in a serene tone, "You see, those women chase me because I'm Eric Williams. Similarly, those boys pursue you because you're Lydia Hearst. So, we're actually a lot alike. Why don't we start a romance between our kind?"

The girl who had been somewhat dazed from Eric's words rolled her eyes dramatically upon hearing his last sentence. "Eric, you're such an annoying guy."

"I know, the truth is always hard to accept. You can take your time to digest it," Eric smiled and said, "Now, let's change the subject."

"I don't want to talk to you at all."

Although Lydia said this, she only made a show of slightly turning away and had no intention of leaving. Her expressive eyes remained fixed on Eric, clearly waiting for him to speak again.

Eric glanced over at the other side of the hall, where Cindy and Linda were still chatting with a few women, then turned back to Lydia. "So, did I guess correctly? You like horror movies?"

Lydia clearly seemed displeased with Eric's wandering eyes and retorted, "Do we really have to talk about movies?"

"Of course," Eric nodded, "Movies are my expertise; I can control the conversation better when we talk about that."

"You're really not a gentleman, trying to take control in front of a girl."

"That is a problem; I'll definitely change next time."

"Then why don't you change this time?"

"It's not good for a girl to be so aggressive."

Lydia lightly huffed again before saying, "Alright, I do like horror movies. How did you guess?"

"You want the truth?"

Lydia thought about Eric's earlier comments and immediately shook her head. "I don't want to hear it."

"So, that means we're best suited for each other. You see, your IQ just jumped up."

"I seriously want to hit you right now."

"Did you know, Lill, hmm, I think that nickname suits you better than Lydia or Lya. I'm giving it to you for free."

"I don't want it," Lydia refused but couldn't help but ask, "What do I know?"

"Oh, it's like this," Eric said seriously, "There's a theory that has been proven multiple times: When a woman thinks about hitting a man, she may unwittingly have fallen for him."

"You must be talking nonsense," Lydia countered immediately. "There can't be such a weird theory."

"You see, your face is already red."

Lydia promptly raised her glass. "I had a drink."

"Perhaps," Eric said nonchalantly, "But you don't look like you've reached the legal drinking age yet."

"Of course," Lydia tilted her chin in a provocative manner. "And I haven't even reached the legal driving age. Mr. Williams, you've been flirting with a minor, and you're breaking the law!"

"Wait, what is the legal driving age in New York?"

"Sixteen."

"Great, nice to meet you, Miss Hearst."

As Eric said this, he raised his glass to the girl and then turned to leave.

Lydia froze for a moment but quickly chased after him like a little tail, reaching out to tug at Eric's sleeve, dissatisfied. "Eric, I was just joking; you're really stingy."

Eric casually put his glass onto a passing waiter's tray, walked over to the buffet table, and raised a plate toward the girl beside him. "Want something to eat?"

Lydia noticed that Eric seemed to have completely forgotten what had just happened and pouted. "I'm not hungry."

Eric nodded, starting to choose food for himself.

Lydia held her glass of champagne, standing beside him and watching his movements. Unable to resist, she said, "Don't take that; it's terrible. My uncle's chef makes awful chocolate sandwiches. You should try the blueberry pudding."

Eric readily picked a box of pudding for his plate and asked, "What else?"

Lydia blinked her eyes. "Isn't this enough?"

Eric raised his food and pointed it at Lydia's forehead as he inclined it over to the center of his chest, smiling. "What do you think?"

"I'm not that short," Lydia pouted, instinctively raising her hand to smack Eric on the shoulder but abruptly stopped, awkwardly pulling her hand back and rolling her eyes in thought. "Also, ham sandwich would be fine."

"Oh," Eric grabbed a piece of ham sandwich but remarked, "Isn't it strange? A chef who can't make a decent chocolate sandwich can make a great ham sandwich?"

Lydia's eyes flickered nervously as she defended herself. "My uncle's house doesn't just have one chef."

"Good point."

Eric nodded, not paying attention to the girl's little worries. He wasn't a picky person; besides, the Hearst family's chef couldn't be that bad; it was probably just Lydia's personal taste.

After picking up some more food, Eric turned and greeted other guests along the way, quickly finding an empty spot by the window in the hall.

Lydia still followed him like a little tail, sitting opposite Eric with her cup, sipping delicately like a cat.

After a moment of silence, watching Eric eat, Lydia's gaze flickered as she took the initiative to say, "Eric, actually my earlier answer wasn't very accurate."

"It's alright; I forgive you."

Lydia's head turned as she couldn't find a sharp retort and merely pouted. "Actually, I don't just like horror movies."

"Hmm?"

"I also like John Waters' films. John Waters, do you know him?"

Upon hearing this name, Eric immediately realized what this little witch was up to.

John Waters, while perhaps not a household name, once mentioned could send shockwaves for many people through his infamous works. Pink Flamingos, a highly graphic cult classic, would leave audiences with just one prevailing feeling: disgust.

Casually taking a bite of his sandwich, enjoying the chew, Eric unfeelingly shook his head. "Never heard of him."

"Hmph, you really have no experience. Who was it that said movies were his best field?" Lydia quickly pointed out, sounding a bit disappointed first but then her eyes lit up. "You definitely know him, right?"

"Never heard of him. I'm quite a big deal; even if I've seen him somewhere, I might've forgotten."

But Lydia wouldn't give up, saying, "Pink Flamingos?"

"Hmm?"

"Polyester?"

"What?"

"Hairspray?"

"Feeling confused here."

"Desperate Living?"

Eric raised his hand, holding up a finger in front of him as if to pause things. Slowly lowering his sandwich, he casually pushed open the nearby window without looking outside and promptly spat out the food.

After taking several deep breaths, Eric finally leaned back, looking at Lydia, who was now thoroughly amused. "Alright, you succeeded."

"Haha, hahaha," realizing the setting around her, the girl laughed a couple of times, quickly burying her head on the table and chuckling for a moment before lifting her head back up, proudly announcing, "Serves you right for pretending."

Eric tried to steady his breathing as he forced himself to regain composure but lost all appetite, pushing his plate aside. "Speaking of which, those movies aren't exactly what a little girl should be watching."

Seemingly realizing discussing those films wasn't very ladylike, Lydia straightened up and said, "Well, not exactly. I just occasionally help my mom sort through them; all those tapes are from her collection."

Eric shook his head. "Your mother shouldn't be watching those things either."

Lydia's tone became hesitant. "Anyway, she likes them, so she collects them. My mom is an adult."

"That has nothing to do with being an adult. John Waters? How could your mother enjoy his films?" Eric shrugged. "That's really baffling."

Lydia's eyes flickered as she couldn't help but argue, "What's baffling? Doesn't my mom have the freedom to like what movies she wants?"

Eric noticed Lydia's emotions suddenly shifted a bit off and nonchalantly nodded. "Of course, everyone has the freedom to choose what they like."

"You, you definitely don't think so," she replied, her tone wavering a bit.

"What do you think I'm thinking?"

"You," Lydia paused for a moment and said, "You must be thinking about those things."

Eric was completely puzzled. "What things?"

"Just, just those things," Lydia's tone suddenly became more stammering, glaring at Eric like a suddenly confrontational little wildcat. "Don't you dare think about my mom like that."

"Alright," Eric shrugged, helplessly. "If I offended in any way, I apologize."

"You," Lydia wanted to say something but suddenly saw Cindy and Linda approaching with two other women. She stood up angrily, saying, "I don't want to talk to you anymore."

...

Watching Lydia abruptly run away, Eric remained puzzled but got up, nodding at Cindy and the others while making room near the table.

Cindy moved forward, taking the initiative to introduce the woman beside her. "Eric, let me introduce you. This is Aerin Lauder."

"Hello, Miss Lauder," Eric shook hands with the knowledgeable-looking lady before curiously asking, "Estee Lauder?"

"Hello, Mr. Williams," Aerin Lauder smiled and shook his hand. "Estee Lauder was my grandmother."

"Oh, she was quite an impressive woman," Eric complimented, looking over at the next unfamiliar woman.

Before Cindy could introduce her, the woman extended her hand. "Mr. Williams, hello, I'm Delphina Arnault."

"Hi," Eric smiled and shook her hand. "I saw your email this morning, but I'm afraid I don't have time."

"Why so absolute, Mr. Williams? Perhaps we could find time to talk."

Eric merely smiled as the women sat down, and he took the spot next to them.

Once the waiter served drinks, Cindy teased, "So, did you just fail at charming that little girl?"

"I don't know; as soon as I mentioned her mom, she just got upset."

Cindy, Linda, and Delphina Arnault all exhibited puzzled expressions.

Aerin Lauder, however, quietly said, "Lydia's mom is Patty, Patty Hearst."

As soon as Aerin Lauder spoke, Cindy and Linda both instantly showed expressions of realization.

Delphina Arnault, identical to Eric, remained unclear, yet the three women who clearly knew the reason weren't willing to explain it to them.

*****

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