[Chapter 975: The Consequences Are Serious]
After hesitating in the changing room for a moment, Brooke Shields finally changed into a two-piece bikini and threw on a bathrobe before stepping outside.
The temperature of the pool was set just right, with the emerald green water shrouded in a light mist that created a dreamy atmosphere under the surrounding lights.
Eric wasn't on the terrace; he must have gone into the villa. Brooke Shields peeked through the glass door a few times but didn't see Eric's figure. So, she sat down by the pool, tested the water temperature, found it warm, and then loosened her bathrobe, slowly sliding into the water.
The pool was huge, and Brooke swam a joyful lap before returning to the spot where she had entered. She popped her head out of the water and saw Eric standing at the edge of the pool, gazing at her with an appreciative look. Next to him on a round table sat a bottle of red wine and two wine glasses.
...
In her early thirties, Brooke Shields had long lost the innocence showcased in 10. Her mixed heritage brought her a perfect face, a mature waistline, and long, straight legs that exuded the most enticing allure of femininity.
Over the years, Eric had rarely shown urgency with women. He preferred to take his time, savoring the moment.
As he watched the wet woman leaning over the pool's edge looking at him, Eric smiled slightly, picked up a wine glass from the table, poured some red wine, squatted down, and handed it to her. "Here, have a taste."
"Thank you," Brooke Shields whispered, taking the glass and sipping it, savoring the flavor. Nodding, she said, "It's great." She placed the glass on the side, looked up at the man who had only removed his jacket but was still dressed in a button-down shirt, slacks, and shoes, and gave him a teasing look. "Eric, don't you plan to join me?"
Eric gazed into Brooke's pale green eyes, gently traced his finger across her perfect face, and finally lifted her chin. Using his fingertips, he felt the beauty before him and said, "I'd rather enjoy the view from here, and besides, we still have plenty of time tonight, don't we?"
Brooke Shields dutifully played along with Eric's actions, slightly raising her chin and locking eyes with him for a moment before her gaze inevitably flickered away.
Feeling a bit unwilling to appear too compliant, she leaned back slightly, opened her mouth as if to bite Eric's lightly resting finger, but he didn't pull away, allowing her to grasp his finger.
They held that position for less than half a second before Brooke Shields gave in again. Her tongue lightly brushed against his finger in a suggestive manner before she released it.
Watching the smile on Eric's face, as if he were in full command of the situation, Brooke Shields's gaze drifted downward and caught sight of Eric's collar. She raised her hand to tease him a bit more, saying provocatively, "Eric, what would happen if I dragged you into the pool right now?"
"You could try," Eric said with an encouraging glint in his eyes, smiling. "But, in the spirit of your warning, I'll remind you that the consequences are serious."
Brooke Shields stared into Eric's eyes for a few seconds. Like a curious cat, she reached out her hand to see that Eric showed no intention of dodging her, prompting her to grasp his hand once again and pull him in forcefully.
Splash!
The sound of water erupted, followed by the sound of laughter and shrieks. Then, Brooke Shields realized the consequences were indeed serious.
...
When Brooke Shields woke up again, she had no idea how much time had passed. Eric was already gone from the other side of the king-sized bed. The white light streaming through the curtains hinted that it might be close to noon.
Her body was bare under the thin sheets, and she was sprawled across the bed, clutching a pillow. She moved her waist slightly, still able to feel a lingering discomfort beneath her. She bit the pillow out of frustration, unwilling to move.
After an indeterminate amount of time, feeling that she couldn't laze about any longer, Brooke Shields wrapped herself in the sheets and got out of bed. Stepping onto the cool floor, she walked to the window and glanced around. Unsure how to open the curtains, she reached out to grab the edge and pulled. This action seemed to trigger a switch, resulting in gentle sounds as the curtains slowly opened, allowing the brilliant sunlight of spring to flood the room.
Brooke Shields squinted and retreated a step, and when she opened her eyes again, she was greeted by the breathtaking blue scenery outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, where the sky met the sea.
She stood there for a while, reluctantly pulling her gaze away, realizing she would likely never own such a magnificent house in her lifetime. In fact, most people in the world wouldn't have that chance either.
As she returned to the bed, Brooke Shields noticed a neatly folded set of clothes and a pair of shoes on the nightstand. Although simple, it was complete -- a white Victoria's Secret underwear set, a white blouse with the tags carefully cut off, a pair of CK jeans that she had once endorsed, and a popular pair of black Manolo Blahnik heels from Sex and the City.
She lifted the Victoria's Secret underwear and checked the size, unable to suppress a smile. That guy certainly knew a thing or two about women's bodies.
The digital clock beside the clothes showed it was already 10:55 AM. She quickly dressed and stepped out of the master bedroom.
...
The villa's lighting was noticeably excellent; the circular corridor on the second floor remained bright even without lights. Exiting the short hallway leading to the master bedroom, she saw two maids carefully dusting the frames of the artwork on the walls.
Unlike the Mexican or Filipino maids often employed by wealthy Americans, these two maids were clearly white, appearing to be in their early twenties. Though they looked ordinary, they had nice figures. Brooke Shields even noticed that the two maids seemed to be the same height.
Perhaps alerted by the sound of Brooke Shields's heels, the two maids turned to her, and the three exchanged a polite glance. Brooke Shields felt a bit awkward; it was clear they recognized her, but their expressions remained composed as they nodded respectfully. One of them courteously said, "Good morning, Miss Shields."
"Hello," Brooke Shields nodded in return, wanting to walk away but stopping short to ask, "Um, is Eric at home?"
"Mr. Williams left for work this morning. You can go downstairs; Miss Sokolov is waiting for you below," one of the maids replied.
Brooke Shields nodded, finding the surname 'Sokolov' a bit peculiar, as it sounded Russian. She didn't inquire further and headed downstairs.
...
It seemed today was the day for a deep cleaning of the villa. Upon reaching downstairs, Brooke Shields saw five or six maids busily working around the house, confirming her earlier observation that they were indeed all the same height. It seemed their employer had a certain perfectionist streak.
She was surprised to find so many people in the estate. Recalling her remarks to Eric about the villa being too empty last night, Brooke couldn't help but chuckle at herself.
As she had inquired with a nearby maid, Brooke made her way to the kitchen where she finally found the Miss Sokolov mentioned earlier, or rather, two identical Miss Sokolovs.
The twins wore matching black blazers, one holding a clipboard while the other busied themselves sorting the recently cleaned silverware with a maid.
Seeing Brooke Shields enter, the older sister, Natasha, put down her clipboard and walked over. "Miss Shields, you're awake."
"Hello," Brooke Shields said, feeling a bit out of place as if she had stumbled into a world where she had no business being. "Um, is Eric around?"
Though she already knew Eric was at work, Brooke asked anyway, as if Eric were a comforting presence in her mind.
"The master has left for work. He instructed that if you were free around noon, he would love to take you to lunch at Firefly Studios. If you have other plans, the driver can take you wherever you'd like," Natasha said, glancing at her watch and then back at Brooke Shields. "The master will have his midday break at twelve o'clock. What are your thoughts, Miss Shields?"
"Um, I...," hearing Natasha casually refer to Eric with a title made Brooke feel even more uneasy. She raised her hand in a vague gesture and said, "I'll go to Firefly Studios."
Natasha nodded. "Please follow me, Miss Shields. I'll have the driver take you there."
As Brooke Shields followed Natasha for a few steps, she remembered another thing and hurriedly asked, "Um, Miss Sokolov."
Natasha paused again. "You can just call me Natasha, Miss Shields. Is there anything else?"
Brooke Shields replied, "The dress I wore last night, I need to take it with me."
After speaking, Brooke felt a bit embarrassed. If it had been any other ordinary clothing, she probably wouldn't have mentioned it. She wouldn't have cared if someone tossed it away.
But that Givenchy haute couture she wore to the Oscars was rented, and a women's couture gown was far more expensive than a men's tailored suit. Haute couture could cost tens of thousands of dollars, and even A-list actresses wouldn't easily purchase them.
Natasha nodded slightly. "It's already been arranged for you, and your bag is outside."
...
As noon approached, the road from Malibu to downtown Los Angeles was congested. After leaving the Liberty City, it wasn't until nearly twelve o'clock that Brooke Shields arrived at Firefly Studios in Playa Vista.
The lunch venue was chosen in the Titanic exhibition hall restaurant inside the studio.
Brooke Shields, led by Melanie, found Eric. The lingering emotions she had felt since getting out of bed vanished inexplicably as she saw Eric. His disheveled hair, wearing a black T-shirt and khaki pants with some dust stains, actually made him look a bit amusing.
As they walked along the corridor leading to the Titanic exhibition hall, feeling Brooke Shields's bemused gaze, Eric smiled and explained, "This is a costume. I didn't have time to change since lunch is so short. But don't worry; there's no dress code for the restaurant onboard the ship."
With the filming of Tony Stark developing the Iron Man armor underway, Eric's appearance looked quite unkempt.
Brooke Shields was well aware that Eric was starring in Iron Man, a fact hardly anyone in the industry didn't know. Not masking her amusement any longer, she said, "I really didn't expect you would still act yourself now."
Eric self-deprecatingly replied, "They all say I've saved the film a million dollars on marketing costs. Quite a bargain, right?"
Brooke Shields tilted her head and asked, "Do you still care about a million dollars?"
"Of course," Eric nodded and tugged at his T-shirt. "Have you seen how hard I'm working?"
"Ha ha."
As they exchanged banter, they entered the exhibition area and boarded the ship, guided by the server to a booth in the restaurant inside.
...
After ordering, and once the server had left, Brooke Shields carefully shifted her position in her seat to find a more comfortable way to sit.
Looking up, she noticed Eric smiling at her, which made her recall the wild night they had together. She threw him a playful eye roll. Last night, Eric had said he wanted to punish her, and in the haze, she hadn't really resisted. While he was generally gentle and hadn't hurt her, such experiences usually only stimulated the man.
Lifting her glass of soda water, she took a sip, and Eric continued the conversation. "So besides the promotion for Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me, what else have you been busy with lately?"
"Nothing much," Brooke Shields shook her head, then asked with some anticipation, "What do you think about the box office potential of the movie?"
"It's hard to say," Eric replied. "These kinds of raunchy comedies have unstable sequel box office returns. Some do really well, while others flop entirely. Take Mike Myers' earlier work, for example. His 1992 film Wayne's World earned $120 million in North America and $180 million globally. But the following year's sequel only brought in about $48 million in North America, and Paramount didn't even bother with overseas distribution."
Although Brooke Shields was merely the eyee-candy lead in Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me, she wouldn't bear any responsibility if it failed. Still, she felt concerned, asking, "Does that mean you don't have much faith in Austin Powers sequel?"
"No one seems overly optimistic," Eric agreed, adding, "However, I've watched the film, and compared to the first one, it's still very funny. Plus, with this round of large-scale promotion, I don't think matching the first's box office should be too much of an issue."
Eric and Fox's primary expectation was to achieve a box office performance around $60 million, similar to the first film. That way, Fox would nearly recoup its costs, and future DVD sales and television rights could still generate good profits.
As for international markets, they held little hope; Mike Myers' recognition was mainly limited to North America, and such crude comedies were closely tied to local culture, with many jokes falling flat outside the continent.
*****
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