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Edgar was deep in thought, trying to create as many opportunities as possible for Anson within his capabilities.
Although they hadn't signed a contract yet, Edgar believed this was his chance, and he should seize it. His mind raced as he considered whether there were suitable PR resources within William Morris that could be fully utilized. Then, he saw that Bentley.
The golden sunlight slowly outlined the contours of the jet-black Bentley. Its classic and imposing presence was infused with a subtle luxury. At first glance, it didn't stand out, at least not compared to flashy sports cars. However, there was something about its understated elegance that subtly caught the eye.
With the arrival of the Bentley, it felt as if the bustling, noisy atmosphere of Los Angeles International Airport slowed down for a moment, as if time itself paused briefly.
A Bentley?
Edgar didn't think much of it. Although Bentleys aren't the most popular cars in Los Angeles, seeing one wasn't particularly unusual.
However, when the driver got out, they immediately captured everyone's attention—
The driver had short, golden hair that cascaded down like a waterfall in the sunlight. She wore a tight, short red bandage dress that perfectly accentuated her figure. Her 6 cm black high heels with red soles created a seamless line from her feet, up her calves, and further.
She was the epitome of sexy and wild.
A pair of oversized black sunglasses covered her small, oval face, making it impossible to discern her features. However, her bold red lips stood out against her snow-white skin, which seemed to glow. The aura she exuded was magnetic, drawing the gaze of everyone around.
"Beep!"
Someone nearby whistled, their eyes boldly and openly appraising the beautiful woman.
The woman didn't shy away. Instead, she turned toward the source of the whistle, lowered her sunglasses slightly down her nose, and boldly looked the man up and down.
Then, she gave a disdainful smile and unapologetically shouted back, "You're not my type."
Ha!
The man's friends burst into laughter, and even passersby, who were merely bystanders, couldn't help but smile.
The woman remained unfazed, calmly retracting her gaze and scanning her surroundings. Naturally, she noticed Anson—his height, build, and aura made him stand out even in a crowd. She removed her sunglasses and gave him a thorough once-over without any hint of shyness.
Her gaze was direct, confident, and carried a sense of objective appreciation.
This kind of look didn't feel intrusive; instead, it came across as an equal exchange of glances.
After finishing her assessment, the woman raised her right hand and waved, holding her sunglasses, "Hey!"
Edgar: ???
Was this woman signaling to Anson? Could she be Anson's girlfriend?
Edgar tilted his head slightly, not out of surprise or anything else. Ignoring the detail that the woman seemed to be around 30 years old, what caught his attention was that he had no idea Anson was dating.
But since he wasn't officially Anson's agent yet, Anson didn't need to tell him.
So, could Anson having a date affect his chances at the "Spider-Man" audition? Or was it just irrelevant information?
These thoughts flashed through Edgar's mind in an instant. Then he saw the woman walk around the front of the car, striding confidently in her high heels toward them.
"Anson?"
It was a question.
"Anson Wood?"
She asked as she extended her hand.
"Eve Wilson, 42West. Darren should have mentioned me to you, right?"
42West?
Edgar immediately realized—PR company?
Currently, Hollywood has four top-tier PR firms, but 42West isn't one of them. However, this company, founded just two years ago, has risen rapidly, establishing itself in the industry by successfully handling several difficult crisis PR situations and attracting numerous high-profile clients.
42West's biggest advantage lies in its location in New York. The company's name comes from West 42nd Street, where it's headquartered.
It's well-known that competition between the East Coast and West Coast in North America is intense, even in the arts and culture industries. In the hip-hop world, the rivalry between the coasts has led to violence, and the film and television industry is no exception. Competition is always present.
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All four major PR companies in Hollywood are based in Los Angeles. As a result, the rapid rise of West 42nd Street filled the gap on the East Coast, attracting a large number of artists from New York and Boston to join its ranks. Now, West 42nd Street seems to be subtly capable of challenging, and even threatening, the four major PR firms.
This was also the first time Anson met Eve Wilson. He greeted her with a polite smile. "But I didn't expect you to personally come to pick me up."
Eve casually shrugged and rolled her eyes. "Time, we need to save time. There's no time to wait for you to come to our branch office and then go through a round of pleasantries."
A pause. "Also, since we need to create publicity and hype, we should start right from the airport."
Eve took a small step forward, getting closer to Anson. "At two o'clock from your position, there's a journalist hiding there, ready to take your picture. Come on, handsome, show your charm. Act natural, don't look at the camera, stand straight, and feel the California sunshine."
After finishing her sentence, Eve turned around and put her sunglasses back on. "Get in the car."
"You can't park here for too long at the airport. I've already seen someone getting ready to come over and give me a ticket. We'll talk about everything else in the car."
Swift and decisive.
Crisp and clean.
With a turn, Eve's short golden hair whipped around sharply, the sound of the wind carrying her voice, "Smile. Remember to smile."
Eve got in the car first.
Anson was slightly stunned, but a smile already crept up his face. "It was just rumors before, but now I've finally witnessed the flair of a PR pro."
Looking over at two o'clock, this time Anson saw the long lens—
Click. Click, click, click.
No wonder!
Darren had told Anson that for this Emmy appearance, he had arranged a PR person. He suggested Anson try working with her first; this was just a project contract, and if he wasn't satisfied, they could look for other companies and other PR people. But if he was satisfied, they could consider signing a long-term contract.
Then Darren reminded Anson that he needed to choose his airport outfit carefully.
So that's what it was.
Anson waved his right hand at the camera, surprisingly noticing the photographer also raised his head in response, as if to say:
"Looking forward to working with you."
This made Anson smile even wider.
Pop.
The car window rolled down, and Eve called out again, "Hey, handsome, just a few photos will do. We have the next event to get to. Get in the car quickly."
Without further hesitation, Anson and Edgar both got in the car. Eve turned the steering wheel, pulled out of the parking spot, and they merged into the airport traffic.
As they passed by the photographer, Eve looked out the window and flipped him off, but the photographer was still frantically pressing the shutter, their back-and-forth exchange also a new way of greeting in Hollywood, which made people chuckle.
Zoom.
With the roar of the engine, they left the photographer behind.
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