Chapter 57: Out of Control
Chapter 57: Out of Control
Workaholics usually lost track of temperature and time while working, and both Eric and Kapoor happened to be that kind of person. As a result, they suffered together.
After buying tickets to New York, the two men hurried onto the plane carrying only simple luggage. By the time they arrived in New York, it was already seven in the evening Eastern Time. Having suddenly gone from springlike Los Angeles to the distinctly seasonal New York, the cold air that hit them the moment they got off the plane made both men, dressed only in light jackets, shiver at the same time.
“It looks like we both need a personal assistant,” Eric Williams remarked after walking out of a fashion store, now wrapped in a thick trench coat.
Kapoor said jokingly with envy, “That’s you. UTA is still so small right now. I can’t afford some kind of personal assistant.”
“Don’t worry. Things will improve soon.”
Kapoor merely smiled and asked, “Are you coming with me to the hotel, or are you going to see… your girlfriend?”
“I haven’t seen Jenny in so many days, so I plan to go to her place first. I already gave you the phone number of Jenny’s apartment on the plane. Contact Al Pacino and arrange a meeting as soon as possible.”
“All right.” Kapoor shrugged. “Hopefully you won’t get kicked out by her. From what you told me about that girl on the plane, I think with her personality, that’s entirely possible.”
“Haha, that’s not something you need to worry about.”
Following the address Drew had given him, Eric rode in a taxi through the winding streets of Manhattan for quite a while before finally finding the apartment where Jennifer Aniston lived. Standing before the door, he adjusted the bouquet of roses in his hands and straightened his clothes before knocking.
After waiting for a while without any response, he knocked several more times before finally confirming that Aniston had not yet returned.
Turning his head toward the large flowerpot beside the door, Eric smiled faintly. It seemed Aniston really could not change this little habit of hers. The girl always liked leaving a spare key outside the door. Eric had once seriously analyzed it for her, claiming it was proof that she lacked a sense of security deep inside. But the stubborn girl firmly refused to admit it and rambled on with a whole string of reasons to refute his argument.
Taking the key out from the flowerpot, Eric unlocked the door and walked in carrying his luggage.
Turning on the lights, he saw the same warm-colored decorating style as before. A familiar feminine fragrance drifted through the air. Taking a deep breath, the faint longing in his heart was quickly catalyzed into something rich and overwhelming. Eric wished the girl would appear in front of him immediately so he could pull her into his arms and knead her fiercely.
Having not eaten anything for five or six hours, Eric opened the refrigerator and decided to make a late-night meal for himself and Aniston. Tying on an apron, he took out ingredients and busied himself in the kitchen.
More than twenty minutes later, while Eric was preparing the final dish, the sound of a key turning in the lock came from the front door outside. Eric hurried into the living room in a few quick steps, picked up the bouquet of roses, and hid behind the door.
When the door opened, Eric emerged with a smile, just about to speak. All three people froze at the same time.
That’s right. Three people.
Eric, Aniston, and… Brad Pitt.
“Eric, why are you… here?” After several seconds of strange silence, Aniston was the first to stammer out the question. At the same time, a cry rang out in her heart: It’s over. Eric is definitely going to misunderstand.
Eric stuffed the roses into Aniston’s hands, then turned toward Brad Pitt and forced out a faint smile, though his eyes looked cold.
“Hello, Mr. Pitt. We meet again.”
“Hello, Mr. Williams.” Brad Pitt extended his hand, only to realize Eric had no intention of shaking it. Awkwardly, he withdrew it.
Although they had only met once during the audition for Back to 17, Eric had risen afterward with mythical speed. It was difficult for Brad Pitt to forget this young man even if he wanted to.
After the greeting, Eric still did not move aside to let him in. Instead, he continued, “Mr. Pitt, thank you for bringing my girlfriend home. If there’s nothing else, you may leave now.”
The extremely rude dismissal made Brad Pitt’s expression turn ugly. He turned toward Aniston, but after dating Eric for several months, Aniston could clearly feel the anger radiating from Eric from the inside out.
Still, the girl forced herself to stand straight and protested, “Eric, you can’t do this. Brad is my guest.”
That intimate-sounding “Brad” completely ignited Eric’s anger. Suddenly raising his voice, he glared at Aniston and pointed into the apartment.
“Shut up. Get inside!”
This was the first time Aniston had ever seen Eric lose his temper so badly. She instinctively shrank her neck. Being caught bringing another man home already made her feel guilty, and the courage she had forced herself to gather completely vanished beneath Eric’s roar. Lowering her head, she muttered, “Why are you yelling…” but still obediently shuffled into the apartment.
Bang!
Ignoring the stunned Brad Pitt, Eric forcefully slammed the door shut.
“Talk. What’s going on?” Eric sat down on the sofa, irritably pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and took a deep drag before finally asking.
If it had been another man, Eric might have calmed down first and figured out the truth. But it just happened to be Brad Pitt. Thinking about the entanglements between the two from his previous life, Eric could not remain calm no matter what.
If this had been before, Aniston would have exploded long ago if Eric dared smoke inside her apartment. But now, the girl merely opened her mouth without actually saying anything to stop him.
“He’s going to play a role in the next few episodes of Molly in Motion. He only joined the cast two days ago. We’ve only known each other for two days. There’s nothing between us,” Aniston explained weakly.
“You only met for two days, and you already brought him home?” Eric snorted coldly.
“It got late after filming today. He said it wasn’t safe for me to go home alone and offered to take me back, so I… I…” As Aniston spoke, she suddenly snapped back to her senses and glared at Eric. “Why am I even explaining this to you? We already broke up. You’re allowed to fool around with all those women, but I’m not allowed to get a boyfriend? You—ah!”
Eric crushed out his cigarette and directly pulled the girl into his arms, fiercely kissing her lips while she struggled.
“Mmph… you can’t do this… this is harassment… mmph… I’m… I’m going to sue you for rape… jerk, don’t touch there…”
After struggling for quite a while, the little wildcat gradually calmed down. Her soft body lay against the sofa, both arms wrapped around Eric’s neck, eyes half-closed as she enjoyed the man’s kisses and caresses.
Smack!
Eric suddenly released Aniston and unceremoniously slapped her pert backside.
“All right, go take a shower first. I made late-night food. After we eat, I’ll deal with you properly.”
“Ow…” Rubbing her backside, Aniston glared at Eric with eyes full of springlike warmth, then obediently stood up and walked into the bathroom.
Testing the water temperature, the naked Aniston stood beneath the shower, rubbing body wash onto herself while thinking in confusion about what was wrong with her. Hadn’t she already decided to break up with that bastard? Yet the moment they met again, she somehow lost herself all over again.
Although she had impulsively written that breakup note after catching Drew and Eric naked together in bed, once she arrived in New York and was alone, scenes of the time she spent with him constantly surfaced in her mind. It was like a drug addiction. It felt as though a little bird endlessly circled through her thoughts, chirping nonstop:
“Eric, Eric, Eric, Eric…”
At the same time, Aniston unconsciously developed the habit of searching newspapers and television for news about Eric.
When people insulted him, she became angry.
When people praised him, she danced around happily like a little girl.
When someone schemed against him, she immediately forgot her anger and proactively called to inform him.
When scandals involving Eric and other women appeared, she could not help becoming jealous, violently ravaging everything she could grab nearby. A stuffed bear she had loved since her tenth birthday had been accidentally plucked bald in a huge patch by her. She directly blamed that account on him.
“Forget it. I’ll… forgive you one more time.” While drying her snow-white body, Aniston finally convinced herself. Or perhaps she had already convinced herself deep down long ago.
After making this decision, it felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders, and her whole body relaxed considerably. Standing before the mirror, she narcissistically twisted her slender waist a little. After several months of nonstop dieting, Aniston had now completely transformed into a graceful beauty. No one would ever associate the word “fat” with her again.
Wrapping herself in a bathrobe, she walked out of the bathroom and discovered Eric talking on the phone.
“…Thanks a lot, James. Once I get back to Los Angeles, I’ll treat you to dinner… Of course, of course, I know one dinner definitely isn’t enough… Haha, all right then, goodbye.”
“Eric, who were you calling?”
Eric put down the receiver and casually replied, “James. I needed his help with something. All right, let’s hurry up and eat. The food’s getting cold.”