I am Hollywood

[Chapter 1139: Blackberry]

Stephanie Seymour didn't expect Eric to be so blunt in kicking her out. She wore an expression of mild resentment, but she sat up and suddenly seemed to remember something. "Oh right, Eric, we're having a gathering at our place tonight. We originally wanted to invite Cindy over. Are you free?"

Eric was currently preoccupied with thoughts of Cindy. He nodded absentmindedly and said, "Sure."

"Great! So, at seven o'clock tonight," Stephanie said, surprised to find Eric so agreeable. A smile broke on her face as she added, "Of course, you and Cindy can come by whenever."

After sending Stephanie off, Eric returned to the sofa and remarked, "Not a very smart woman, and clearly not satisfied with what she has."

Cindy, who had taken Stephanie's previous spot, leaned against Eric and smiled, "Don't men usually hope women are a bit dim?"

"I like smart women now, the smarter, the better."

Cindy rolled her eyes at him. "I'm planning to let her try to take my place."

"America's Next Top Model?"

"Yeah."

Eric remembered the original version of America's Next Top Model and said, "Why not let Tyra give it a try? I think she could do better."

When they were selecting hosts for America's Next Top Model and Project Runway, Eric had indeed considered the original Tyra Banks. However, she was too young back then, and her popularity hadn't yet skyrocketed, which was why the role fell to Cindy.

"I thought about that too, but she's Black," Cindy pointed out.

Eric nodded, immediately understanding.

If the initial host for the show was Black, it might have worked out fine. However, abruptly switching the host from a white woman to a Black woman at the height of its popularity could present too many risks. Although Hollywood portrayed racial diversity in a positive light, the issue of racial discrimination in the country was deeply rooted.

"Since that's the case, you should handle it. I'll talk to Anne Sweeney tomorrow morning," Eric concluded.

After he said this, the two fell into silence.

After a moment, Cindy nervously said, "Eric, do you feel put upon?"

Eric pulled her closer, gently stroking her abdomen, and shook his head. "Not at all. It just adds another layer of responsibility. I've always known I couldn't really call myself a good father."

"You're already doing great," Cindy reassured him, leaning against him. "For Kevin, Elia, and Emma, I don't believe anyone could do better than you."

They embraced lovingly for a moment, and Eric then said, "However, as the mother of my children, you should know that you can't just leave me easily anymore."

"Weren't you always trying to set me up with Linda? I think this recent arrangement isn't too bad. Just be careful, Mr. Williams, because I'm actually less satisfied than Stephanie."

"Smart women can be a little greedy."

"Ha-ha."

Now that he had three little ones, Eric didn't feel as lost in the face of the new life growing inside Cindy as he had when Virginia and Joanna were pregnant. Cindy was indeed a smart woman, and she didn't need any special reminders from Eric. They both accepted the news calmly and with anticipation.

After enjoying a lovely afternoon together at Cindy's apartment, they finally remembered the promise to attend Stephanie Seymour's gathering around dinner time.

Since he had no other commitments that evening, Eric and Cindy headed over together.

...

At another mansion in the Upper East Hydee.

By the time it was past seven-thirty, Peter Brant and Stephanie Seymour were hosting countless guests in the hall, but they could hardly focus on the attendees.

Tonight's gathering was to commemorate Stephanie's release of her beauty book. Top supermodels often penned such books to earn a little extra cash.

Originally, Peter hadn't been too concerned about the event. He had only agreed to host a small gathering due to his wife's insistence. However, when his wife returned that afternoon and mentioned that Eric Williams would also be attending, Peter became instantly enthusiastic.

Although Eric had long since topped the Forbes billionaire list, the contrast between his current wealth and social influence compared to just a few years earlier was dramatic.

For Peter Brant, hosting a celebrity of Eric's caliber at home was a point of pride. In fact, if he ever wrote an autobiography or memoir, it would definitely be a highlight. This wasn't an exaggeration; many celebrity biographies often mentioned hosting prominent politicians and celebrities to display social status and connections.

Thus, to make Eric Williams' presence in his social circle carry even greater weight, Peter quickly expanded the originally small family gathering into a lively soiree, even inviting some hard-to-predict guests who quickly agreed upon hearing Eric would be there.

The party was set to begin at seven o'clock.

Most guests arrived on time, but as the clock struck seven-thirty, Eric Williams had yet to appear.

After finishing a conversation with one guest, Peter glanced at his watch, now reading seven-forty. He couldn't help but tug on his wife's arm, his voice laced with anxiety as he muttered, "Stephanie, are you sure Eric will come tonight?"

If Eric didn't show, the Brant family would surely lose credit.

Stephanie Seymour understood the stakes but hesitated to guarantee anything. "I personally invited him and he said yes. How about waiting five more minutes? If he still hasn't arrived, I'll call and check in."

Peter Brant couldn't tolerate his wife's indecisiveness. Irritated, he insisted, "Call now; don't wait five more minutes."

Stephanie hesitated but began to walk away when a waiter, specially assigned by Peter, appeared at the door. He gestured towards Peter.

Seeing the waiter's signal, Peter's heart finally lightened. Completely ignoring his wife, he hurried towards the door.

Stephanie stood frozen for a moment before springing into action to follow him.

When they reached the entrance, Eric had just gotten out of the car holding Cindy's hand.

...

"Good evening, Eric! I'm so glad you could make it," Peter Brant greeted, his previous impatience completely gone as he warmly extended his hand.

Eric shook Peter's hand and said, "Sorry, Peter, Cindy and I might be a bit late."

"No problem," Peter shook his head quickly, then courteously hugged Cindy, praising, "Miss Crawford, you look absolutely stunning tonight."

"Oh, thank you, Peter," Cindy replied with a hint of playful annoyance. "But why do you call Eric by his first name yet refer to me as Miss Crawford? Are you trying to distance yourself from me?"

"Of course not, it's just a mark of respect for a beautiful lady."

"Ha-ha, you can just call me Cindy," she smiled, also making sure not to neglect Stephanie Seymour beside her, initiating, "Oh, and Stephanie, you look even more beautiful than I do tonight!"

After they exchanged pleasantries, the four entered the Brant mansion together.

By this time, the guests in the hall had already heard of Eric's arrival. Though everyone was aware he was quite late, there were no complaints; instead, people were engaged in thinking of ways to connect and make a good impression when they spoke with him.

To talk about it, Peter Brant had indeed started from scratch. He initially struck gold through his connections with pop art master Andy Warhol and, over the years, built up the Brant Publications, Inc., primarily focusing on newspapers and magazines.

...

West Coast parties mainly served to expand one's network, and Eric had become quite adept at navigating such gatherings.

After Peter introduced him, Eric mingled with several guests, and everyone began conversing in groups of two or three based on common interests.

Thanks to his ties with Andy Warhol, Peter Brant remained closely connected to the art community; inevitably, quite a few artists and art dealers appeared at the soiree.

At that moment, listening to an art dealer subtly pitching some contemporary artists' works, Eric engaged with interest. When the dealer finished, Eric smiled and said, "Tony, I actually prefer classic paintings, especially those by John William Waterhouse. If you ever come across one, feel free to reach out to my assistant's office anytime."

The art dealer, Tony Royce, showed no signs of being taken aback and nodded gracefully, "Mr. Williams, I will certainly keep an eye out for you."

With that, he raised his glass towards Eric and turned to leave.

After Tony departed, Cindy, still linked to Eric's arm, smiled and asked, "Eric, do you really like John William Waterhouse's paintings? I haven't seen you interested in any art pieces before."

"Of course," Eric replied, nodding affirmatively. "If you ever get a chance to see this artist's work, you'll absolutely understand why I like it. However, most of John William Waterhouse's paintings are housed in museums across the UK. If a piece ever surfaces, I wouldn't mind paying a premium for it."

As he spoke, Eric planned to head over to the buffet for some food, but just as he turned, he found himself bumping into a couple who had taken the opportunity to greet him. Seeing the woman in the couple nearly spill her drink on Cindy, he instinctively raised a hand to block it, causing the champagne to splash all over his shirt sleeve.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Williams."

It was clearly an accident, and Eric wasn't upset. He shook his head and chuckled, saying it was fine even amidst the minor disaster. The Brants quickly came over.

"It's nothing," Eric reassured, noticing the concerned looks on everyone's faces. He grabbed a napkin from Cindy to dab at his sleeve and turned to the Brant couple. "Sorry, can I borrow your restroom for a moment?"

"Of course," Peter Brant gestured. "Stephanie, why don't you take Eric to clean up?"

"Eric, follow me," Stephanie Seymour gestured for him to follow her as she led him upstairs to a restroom.

...

Upon reaching the sink, Eric washed his hands and was about to clean his sleeve again when he noticed Stephanie standing at the door, making no indication she wanted to leave; instead, she closed the door behind them.

Eric chuckled, observing the glint of mischief in her eyes. "What's this? Planning something devious?"

"Eric," Stephanie also showed a hint of amusement. "I suddenly understand why Cindy would just up and give up her hosting position on America's Next Top Model."

Eric dabbed some water on his sleeve as he listened to her know-it-all tone. He squinted slightly, "Oh? And why's that?"

Stephanie, picking up on Eric's mood shift, leaned against the door in a defensive posture. "Do you really want me to say it out loud?"

Eric dried his hands, tapping his fingers on the marble counter. "Come here."

Stephanie instinctively took a step forward only to halt immediately, bracing herself. "I won't go over there; you're just going to hit me."

Eric shrugged indifferently. "Fine, then I won't bother."

Seeing Eric make to leave, Stephanie hesitated and tried to negotiate, "If you don't hit me, I'll come over."

"Come on, I won't hit you."

After a moment of deliberation, Stephanie finally walked over, but the instant she was by Eric's side, he pressed her down onto the wash basin.

"You, you bastard, you're not keeping your word," she exclaimed.

Eric unapologetically raised her gown and stated, "I've always kept my word."

"Hey," Stephanie protested, her composure slipping as Eric's rough movements caused her to lean heavily against the sink. Her face turned bright red, but her words remained defiant. "Are you planning on doing this in five minutes? What a useless man."

Eric responded, "We can try a more stimulating approach."

Stephanie blinked, catching sight of Eric grabbing a tube of hand cream from the sink. Realization dawned on her, and she abruptly attempted to stand up, "Bastard, you can't do this!"

Without hesitation, Eric slapped her on the butt, and as her body went limp again, she gasped, feeling a scrap of fabric quickly shoved against her mouth, muffling her cries.

...

The next afternoon, after meeting directly with the president of A&E Television Network to talk about America's Next Top Model's future arrangements, Eric boarded a plane back to Los Angeles.

Gazing out at the sprawling view of Manhattan fading into the distance, he couldn't help but smile at the memories of the night before.

Merissa Mayer entered carrying a stack of documents just as Eric was lost in thought, catching sight of the strange grin on his face. With a puzzled look, she set the folder down and said, "Eric, Nokia's analysis report on RIM has come in. Their Blackberry phone prospects look quite promising, but there are various issues within the company as well."

*****

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