The dishes they ordered arrived one by one, served in a Western style, which Elena Boyar found acceptable as she tasted her meal while chatting with Matthew.
"My paparazzi snapped quite a few photos of you and Charlize Theron," Elena said as she swallowed a piece of diced chicken, "but I'm holding onto them for now."
Matthew didn't look up from his food. "That's not like you."
Elena looked up at him and replied, "Because I know your style." She suddenly laughed, "Those photos are too mundane, lacking enough appeal. I'm waiting for the day you finally get together with Charlize Theron."
"You're thinking too much," Matthew continued to focus on his Kung Pao chicken.
Ignoring his comment, Elena went on, "It probably won't be long, right? A hot Hollywood actor and an Oscar-winning actress—it's a story that just needs to be told. Wow, just thinking about it excites me."
Matthew reminded her, "Charlize Theron has a boyfriend."
"Is that a problem?" Elena said with a hint of provocation, "Don't you know how to play the game? Look around your circle; how many Hollywood couples do you think are faithful behind closed doors?"
She wiped her mouth with a napkin, "Affairs need to be handled carefully; getting caught is never a good look."
"I'm not as frivolous as you think," Matthew said as he ate. "Even if I were to consider it, I'd make sure the other guy was out of the picture first."
He treated the conversation casually, "Affairs are too risky."
"For most people, yes, but remember, you're talking to an expert in catching cheaters and similar gossip," Elena pointed at herself.
Matthew glanced at her, intrigued. In an age where information was rampant, it was difficult for celebrities to keep anything secret. Having seen plenty from his days across the Pacific, he knew the pervasive reach of paparazzi and their informants who would sell any tidbit for the right price.
He could imagine that some of the regular staff at celebrities' favorite restaurants and hotels were informants for the paparazzi, helping them gain entry into otherwise restricted areas to snap photos.
"Let's hear it," Matthew said.
"Consider this a preventive shot, so you don't get caught by the paparazzi later," Elena replied.
Matthew nodded, "Looks like I owe you a thank you."
"Don't mention it, we're all in this together," Elena waved her hand generously, "Matthew, you need to pick the right places for dates..."
Matthew suppressed the urge to make a rude gesture, reminding her, "This has nothing to do with me."
Elena chuckled, "Just slipped out." She coughed softly and continued, "The right venue can help them protect their secrets. Even though LA is a sprawling concrete jungle, truly secluded restaurants and hotels are rare. And the chance of bumping into someone who happens to know someone else who knows something about someone else is too high."
Matthew nodded; much of the industry's gossip started just like that.
Elena wasn't joking, "Unless you don't mind meeting in a dive bar in Koreatown or a grimy hourly drug den. The hidden parks in the Santa Monica Valley are not so hidden anymore, and the bars on the Westside or snack bars in Echo Park, even novice Hollywood salespeople might pop up there."
"Right, Elena," Matthew asked curiously, "Have you trained your paparazzi in these tactics?"
"Pretty much," Elena didn't deny, "We've got informants in hotels and restaurants. Celebrities have gotten smarter, too. Those who aren't discreet often end up cheating on each other, and they are usually clever deceivers."
She emphasized, "To catch a clever deceiver in a scandal, you need to know their latest tricks."
Matthew put down his cutlery, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and commented, "Seems I'm far behind in this game."
"You're way behind. But right now, the public loves gossip about celebrities in their prime, not has-beens," Elena responded dismissively.
"Anything else?" Matthew was curious and gestured for her to continue.
Elena nodded slightly and elaborated, "Hollywood isn't into the Peninsula Hotel, the Four Seasons, or the Beverly Hills Hilton for affairs anymore because the risk of exposure there is too high. Nowadays, private apartments, a friend's place, short-term rentals, or places you can only fly to—like film festivals—are hotspots. But the best spots for affairs are still movie sets."
Matthew nodded; this aligned with his understanding of the industry.
"You know what I do," Elena spoke from experience, "Since the start of this year, my paparazzi haven't caught anything valuable in high-end hotels unless it's at big events like ones involving Scarlett Johansson."
"Because there are many
people coming and going, so it doesn't look suspicious?" Matthew asked.
"Yes, exactly. Because in hotels, there are always servers and front desk staff who will snitch for a fee," she whispered, "I have several reliable sources indicating that the high real estate prices on Wilshire Boulevard make it a favorite spot for adulterers. A famous producer even has a property on Boulder Drive where he and his male friends often bring other women for fun."
"Who?" Matthew asked curiously.
"That's a secret," Elena said seriously, "This is information TMZ paid a lot for. If I revealed names, I'd be breaking confidentiality agreements."
Matthew didn't press further.
Elena then shared more about the subject.
Matthew had some knowledge of the matter; he believed that the highest rate of celebrity affairs occurred on set.
Location shooting often resembled summer camp: everyone lived together away from their usual lives and responsibilities, and everyone was eager. What else was there to do besides indulge in unspeakable activities?
Film festivals were another hub for the industry's thirsty, where day-to-day restraints fell away, allowing for freer interactions.
"I heard from a veteran actor," Matthew recalled, "that it's not surprising to wake up next to anyone after a night of heavy drinking at a film festival. Alibis are easy to come by—'I was at a marathon screening,' 'I got held up in an eight-hour negotiation,' 'My phone had no signal,' 'I was eating out and couldn't take calls,' and so on."
According to Elena, in Hollywood, whether male or female stars, they all seemed to have a license to indulge as they wished, believing they'd never get caught.
Regardless of what Elena said, Matthew wouldn't act recklessly, especially not with Charlize Theron already having a boyfriend.
Flings between single celebrities were just rumors, but third-party involvement was scandalous.
Helen Herman had advised him that to maintain a higher market value after reaching A-list status, especially for commercial brands, tabloid news was one thing, but scandals had a real negative impact.
After dinner, Matthew escorted Elena to his car for a private conversation lasting over ten minutes before she departed.
The next day, as the production moved to shoot near a developing commercial center in the small town of Valencia, Elena's paparazzi started tailing Matthew.
As filming entered its final phases, media interest waned, and fewer reporters followed.
The production had planned only two days of shooting here. The first day went smoothly, with Matthew circulating around the base of the building, while Charlize Theron's scenes were shot inside a business van using the commercial center as a backdrop.
On the second day in Valencia, Matthew spotted a familiar figure; Stuart Townsend came to visit Charlize Theron on set again.
Before heading to his makeup trailer, Matthew made a point of greeting Charlize, noticing Stuart's displeased expression.
Shortly after, he entered the set to continue filming the remaining scenes with Charlize.
Stuart went out to buy something and returned to watch from the perimeter of the set alone. As he was not very famous, the few reporters following the crew seemed uninterested in him until two reporters wearing TMZ badges appeared.
One man and one woman—the woman held a microphone, and the man carried a small video camera. They looked nothing like typical paparazzi, instead appearing very much like professional reporters.
"Is that him?" the woman asked the male cameraman, who glanced over and confirmed, "That's him, no doubt about it."
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