制霸好莱坞

"Gore is currently in marriage counseling," Cesare said in a deep voice as soon as Jenny picked up the phone. "According to rumors, his marriage is on the brink, and both sides are gearing up for a divorce battle. If the counseling fails, divorce litigation is inevitable. Mrs. Verbinski has a clause in their prenuptial agreement stipulating that if Gore cheats, he'll owe her a million dollars for each affair."

Jenny wasn't surprised by this. She knew about Gore Verbinski's career. He'd made a lot of money shooting music videos, and several of his films had been financially successful. The Ring had cost $60 million to make and grossed over $120 million at the North American box office, raking in more than $200 million worldwide. But even though his films had done well, he had only recently transitioned into directing, so his net worth likely wasn't in the tens of millions. If he'd been caught cheating, it was likely he would lose everything or, at best, be financially drained by his ex-wife's fine and the settlement.

"This makes sense," Jenny mused, staring at the ceiling. She finally understood why Cesare had seemed so puzzled that day. It was like a math problem where the formula gave an 80% answer, but the reality gave a completely unrelated -1. He didn't mind failure, but couldn't find where things went wrong. "Gore doesn't seem too proud of his self-control."

Cesare didn't pick up on Jenny's subtle translation, but he was clearly excited. Jenny, now attuned to his emotional shifts, could tell. "Gore is a smart guy, so it's not surprising that he made this decision. But it's good news for us. Now, we just have to solve this particular issue."

Jenny, weighing the situation, asked, "Do you mind flying to New York and playing the part of my obsessed boyfriend?"

Cesare immediately refused. "CAA doesn't allow agents and artists to get involved romantically. Of course, the scandal won't affect anything, but I can't publicly act as your boyfriend."

He paused. "Besides, I don't recommend you use the boyfriend strategy. You know this game isn't big in Hollywood, especially not in Gore's mind."

Jenny realized she had been thinking wrong. Gore Verbinski had managed to keep a steady partner during his marriage, so she couldn't expect him to believe that she'd be loyal to him just because they were in a relationship. Now it was clear that their dynamic was one-sided—Gore knew Jenny needed him, and he wasn't likely to turn down a request from her. For example, Gore loved dogs, and Jenny was like a cute puppy. Gore didn't trust himself to resist touching her when walking the dog, and, if he did, he would face a hefty fine. The best move, then, was not to let the puppy get too close.

What Jenny and Cesare were strategizing now was how to convince Gore that she was a sharp-tongued puppy who had no interest in him—while using her cuteness to secure an audition. This would at least give her a fair shot at the role.

"Should I just tell him straight out that I'm not interested, even if he wants to sleep with me?" Jenny asked. "No, that might hurt his ego and lower his chances of recommending me for the role. What if I tell him I'm a lesbian, and I'm just not into men?"

Cesare shook his head. "You don't understand men's sexual psychology well enough. If you tell him you're a lesbian, Gore will probably get even more excited, imagining you with another blonde woman."

Jenny was left speechless. Cesare continued, "How about this: tell him you're a devout evangelical Christian."

Jenny raised an eyebrow. "Evangelical Christian?"

"Yes," Cesare said, "You've got the day off. Go get a sterling silver ring and wear it on your left ring finger. That'll be your 'chastity ring.' The salesperson will know what you need."

Jenny blinked, unsure. "Can you spell 'evangelical' for me?"

Cesare sighed, patient as ever. "You can look it up later. I know you're not a virgin, but for a few days, just tell Gore you're a devout believer who loves only one person and has vowed to remain chaste until marriage. That ring will be your symbol. If someone wants to... 'pluck your flower,' as they say, they better be ready to marry you."

Jenny scoffed, "You really think this will work?"

"You're 21," Cesare replied. "As long as you sell it well, he'll believe it. And if he believes it, it will work. Nothing depresses a man more than a virgin who holds chastity above everything else. It's a major psychological hurdle. You're not a man, so you wouldn't understand how powerful that is."

Jenny, feeling a mix of absurdity and disbelief, thought about the culture she came from. In the East, there were still strong associations with virginity. But this idea—this "chastity" gambit—felt far-fetched.

"I'm not sure..." Jenny muttered. "Even with my looks?"

Cesare chuckled. "For Gore, someone in his position? He'd pick an 80-point slut over a 100-point virgin any day."

Jenny was stunned by the bluntness, but after some thought, she realized this was probably true. In her previous life, in high school, anyone who hadn't lost their virginity by senior year was considered an outcast. Still, Jenny was a little uncomfortable with the thought of trying this approach, but it seemed like it had a chance.

"Okay," she agreed reluctantly, "I'll go along with this."

"Good," Cesare said. "And remember, you're safe. Gore won't even bring up the evangelical stuff. It's the last thing on his mind."

Jenny spent the afternoon in New York buying the chastity ring and studying evangelical teachings. She didn't believe in it herself, but at least she didn't want to embarrass herself by not being able to answer basic questions.

By the time she arrived at Ann's apartment, dressed conservatively in a long-sleeved, round-neck dress, Jenny was already dreading the party. She had designed her look carefully—not to be stunning, but to blend in. She didn't want to seem like the aggressive, glamorous actress people assumed she was. Instead, she needed to look like the "chaste" young woman she had now become in everyone's eyes.

The strategy worked, but the party chatter quickly turned to gossip. Her colleagues teased her about her new vow of chastity, and Jenny played along, explaining it was a way to protect her reputation.

As the night wore on, Jenny found herself feeling ridiculous. This wasn't the Hollywood she had expected—where beauty and talent were the primary currencies. Here, manipulation and strategic plays ruled the game. It was surreal to think that an audition could be won not just through skill, but by how well you could convince people of your personal values—whether or not you actually held them.

Still, she was prepared for the night. She just hoped it would lead to an audition and not a bigger mess.