Chapter 313: Why Are You Clapping?
Chapter 313: Why Are You Clapping?
“Wow, you don’t have that urge right now, do you?”
The woman nodded lightly, and her face became even redder.
Eric’s smile instantly turned wicked. “Then you’d better hold it in. At least wait until after we finish attending the party.”
The woman raised her small fist as if she wanted to punch Eric’s shoulder, but halfway up, she withdrew it again and said softly, “Eric, I think after the party, we should return this gown and the shoes.”
“You don’t like them?”
“Of course not. I… I like them very much,” Famke Janssen bit her lip, then continued, “But they’re too expensive. I can’t accept them.”
“As long as you like them,” Eric said casually.
“In any case, I… I’ll return the gown tomorrow and give the money back to you,” the woman said firmly.
Eric turned his face and looked her up and down, his gaze almost tangible. His tone was faint and lingering, as though it carried some other meaning. “Don’t worry. You won’t be able to return it.”
The car stopped outside the Coppola family estate. As soon as they got out, a Black valet came forward. Sharp-eyed, he recognized Eric at once, immediately flashed a mouthful of white teeth, and eagerly took Eric’s car key to drive the car toward the parking lot.
When she was sitting in the car, it was not too obvious, but after getting out, Famke Janssen, wearing high heels, stood a full six feet three inches tall. Combined with the rose-colored evening gown handmade by a famous designer, the moment she appeared, the security guards and valets responsible for welcoming guests at the entrance of the Coppola mansion all revealed looks of amazement.
Everyone had vanity, and Famke Janssen was naturally no exception. At this moment, the woman greatly enjoyed the astonished gazes from the people at the entrance. She enjoyed them even more than the biggest runway shows she had walked. Back then, she had only been a clothes rack. But now, the expensive evening gown had become her foil.
Eric, however, still was not entirely satisfied. Looking at the woman’s fair neck, he said regretfully, “It would be even prettier with a necklace. But we were short on time today, so next time.”
“I think this is already very good,” the woman said, intimately holding Eric’s arm.
“But I like perfection, not ‘very good,’” Eric said, handing the invitation to the security guard responsible for checking it before entering the Coppola mansion.
Although Hollywood never lacked beauties, women like Famke Janssen, who lacked neither height nor beauty, were not common. Therefore, as soon as the two walked side by side into the estate, the guests who had been chatting in small groups all turned their gazes toward them in unison. Some female guests, after seeing Famke Janssen, even subconsciously tightened their arms around the men beside them.
Many male guests quickly recognized from Famke Janssen’s posture and gait that she was a model. In Hollywood, female models were very easy to get into bed. However, before these men could develop many other thoughts, they quickly noticed the young man beside the woman.
In today’s Hollywood, anyone who paid even the slightest attention to current Hollywood affairs could not fail to recognize Eric. And anyone able to attend a Coppola family party certainly had a certain status, so the chances of recognizing Eric were even higher.
“That seems to be Williams…”
“What do you mean seems? That’s obviously him. Why is he here? I’ve never seen him at a party before. I heard he doesn’t like socializing and at most only attends some internal Firefly parties.”
…
“Wow, it really is Eric. He’s so handsome. Who’s that woman?”
“He’s a playboy. It’s perfectly normal for him to have a woman beside him. Hey, Gilly, don’t be fooled by his looks.”
…
“Should we go up and say hello?”
“Wouldn’t that be a little abrupt?”
“Come on. Let’s go. It’s just saying hello and getting acquainted. Chances like this don’t come often.”
Sensing that the atmosphere was somewhat strange, Eric could not help slowing down. This was the first party he had attended since the turmoil at the beginning of the year, and it was also a party where he hardly knew anyone. He found it difficult to predict how these people would react.
Seeing the people around him pointing and whispering about him and Famke Janssen, Eric immediately felt a little regretful. If he was cold-shouldered here and word spread, that would be seriously embarrassing.
Just as he was unsure whether to keep walking forward or simply turn around and leave, the surrounding guests who had recognized them whispered among themselves for a while. Soon, two or three people walked toward him and Famke.
“Hello, Mr. Williams. I’m Gary Frederickson, executive producer of The Godfather Part III. Welcome to the party.”
“Mr. Williams, hello. I’m Richard Bollett. I play a role in The Godfather Part III.”
“Mr. Williams, hello…”
Seeing the three people walk toward him, Eric breathed a sigh of relief and smiled as he greeted them.
The people around them who had originally hesitated saw Eric’s response, and those who considered themselves somewhat important enthusiastically gathered around.
When Francis Coppola, who had noticed the commotion, curiously came over with Al Pacino and Nicolas Cage, what he saw was already the scene of Eric being warmly surrounded by a circle of people.
Al Pacino was the first to recognize Eric through a gap in the crowd. After saying a few words to Coppola, he walked toward the group. The people on the outer edge quickly noticed Francis Coppola and the others and consciously moved aside.
“Hey, Eric, long time no see. I really didn’t expect you to show up here tonight,” Al Pacino warmly hugged Eric, nodded to Famke Janssen, then turned around. “Eric, let me introduce you. This is Mr. Francis Coppola.”
“Hello, Mr. Coppola. I’m Eric Williams. I really like your Godfather series. I believe this Godfather sequel will definitely become another classic.”
“Thank you for your confidence, Mr. Williams,” Francis Coppola warmly shook Eric’s hand.
“Just call me Eric, Mr. Coppola. Oh, right, this is Miss Famke Janssen,” Eric said, gesturing toward the woman beside him.
Francis Coppola smiled and shook the woman’s hand, then gave his nephew beside him a look.
Nicolas Cage, who had already been eager to try, quickly stepped forward. “Hello, Mr. Williams. I’m Nicolas Coppola.”
Compared to Francis Coppola, Eric was naturally much more familiar with Nicolas Cage. Although Cage was once called the king of bad films, there was no denying that Nicolas Cage had still made quite a few classic films.
“Hello. I think calling you Mr. Cage feels more familiar. I really liked your Moonstruck. Both you and Ms. Cher gave excellent performances.”
“Thank you, Eric. Just call me Nick,” Nicolas Cage said.
He gripped Eric’s hand with slight force, clearly somewhat excited. This detail made Eric feel slightly strange. The man’s eagerness seemed a bit excessive. After thinking for a moment, Eric quickly realized why he had received this invitation. Nicolas Cage was clearly like Bridget Fonda, aiming for the male lead role in Ghost.
Eric looked Nicolas Cage up and down. Cage was only twenty-six at this time, and his hairline had not receded as much as it would twenty years later. His hair was thick, his gaze deep, and his whole temperament carried a hint of melancholy.
Noticing Eric sizing up Cage, Francis Coppola smiled and stood to the side without interrupting. Al Pacino also knew that this clever young fellow Eric had definitely realized something, so he smiled and stood aside as well. Although being examined by someone five or six years younger than himself felt somewhat strange, Cage also tactfully stood where he was and did not speak.
The entire party was being held to celebrate the upcoming start of The Godfather Part III. Now that the director and male lead, two important figures, were no longer speaking, the people around them also sensibly quieted down.
After more than a minute, Eric considered it carefully. Combining this with Cage’s performance in City of Angels, he finally made his decision and extended his hand again. “Then, Nick, are you willing to join Ghost?”
Cage widened his eyes in disbelief. As a member of the Coppola family, he understood better than ordinary people that the lead role in a big-budget commercial film was not so easy to obtain. This was not only a matter of acting skill; it even involved games among multiple parties. Because a successful commercial film could completely turn an obscure young Hollywood actor into a world-class star. Although Hollywood had many hit films every year, most leading roles were occupied by already-famous stars, leaving very few opportunities for newcomers.
Therefore, although he had already obtained an audition opportunity for Ghost and was fully confident in his acting skills, he had still taken advantage of the Godfather Part III party to persuade his uncle to invite Eric, hoping to use the Coppola family’s influence in Hollywood to help push things along and increase his chances of getting the role.
Unexpectedly, things had become this simple in the end. For an instant, he wanted to pinch himself hard. This had to be a dream.
Before Cage could pinch himself, Al beside him already punched him lightly in the chest. “You lucky kid. Does this even need hesitation?”
The impact on his chest finally brought Nicolas Cage back to his senses. He gripped Eric’s hand and shook it hard. “Of course, Eric. Thank you.”
Of course, Eric would not leave it at that. After Ghost, the Coppola family would have another new Hollywood star. How could he possibly let such a favor slip away so easily?
Therefore, after releasing Cage’s hand, Eric turned toward Francis Coppola with a full smile and said, “Mr. Coppola, Nick is a member of the Coppola family. I believe his acting certainly won’t disappoint me, right?”
Eric’s words seemed ordinary, but some socially experienced people around them quickly realized that Eric was hinting that the Coppola family now owed him a favor. The only question was whether Francis Coppola would acknowledge it. Favors had to be repaid. In the future, the greater Cage’s success through Ghost, the heavier this favor would become.
Seeing the reactions on some people’s faces, Cage thought it over briefly and also realized the meaning behind Eric’s words.
He looked nervously toward his uncle. Although this uncle treated him well and had arranged several small roles for him in his own films when he had just debuted, he was not Francis Coppola’s son, after all.
Who knew that Francis Coppola would only hesitate for two seconds before smiling freely and shaking Eric’s hand. “Of course, Eric. Nick definitely won’t disappoint you. If he can achieve something in his acting career, that will also be an honor for the Coppola family.”
He really was worthy of being one of Hollywood’s four great directors. Whether in bearing or broad-mindedness, he was not someone ordinary people could compare to. Hearing Coppola say this, the surrounding people sighed inwardly. Then, no one knew who started it, but applause suddenly rang out.
Eric released Coppola’s hand with a slightly awkward expression.
Alright, it seemed he had become a petty man demanding repayment for a favor.
But he did not regret it either. Not reaching out at a time like this would make him an idiot. It was not as though he was running a charity.
Only…
He glanced at the woman beside him, who was smiling and clapping.
Silly woman, why are you clapping? Are you laughing at me?
Famke Janssen sharply sensed the “killing intent” in Eric’s gaze. Her slender hands froze in front of her for a moment before she understood something. She quickly held Eric’s arm intimately, and her soft chest even discreetly rubbed against him twice, like a cat who had caused trouble and was trying to appease its owner.
“Alright, Eric, let’s go inside. Let me introduce you to some people,” Francis Coppola said cheerfully after a moment, making an inviting gesture. The group walked and chatted as they headed toward the villa.
“To be honest, Eric, you should attend more parties. It helps you understand Hollywood in more detail. Oh, right, your ‘City of Liberty’ in Malibu is truly magnificent. Many people now treat it as one of Malibu’s landmark buildings. When will you invite us over as guests? I really want to see what a mansion built with more than twenty million dollars looks like,” Francis Coppola said as he walked beside Eric, speaking like a familiar elder.
Eric also kept smiling and responding, his gaze casually sweeping over everything in the estate. When they were still more than ten meters from the villa, Eric suddenly stopped and looked curiously in one direction. But that graceful figure quickly disappeared into the crowd.
Noticing Eric’s reaction, several people curiously followed his gaze, but they saw nothing unusual.