制霸好莱坞

Jenny knew she had to strike a balance in this conversation.

"I know you." She shook Gore's hand enthusiastically. "I've seen you by Agata's side."

In reality, every adult with average intelligence is a natural expert when it comes to love and sex. Beyond the conflict-driven plots of novels and TV shows, the real world often hides a simple truth: "I knew all along, but I didn't want to say it." From the very beginning, even with strangers, signs like eye contact, body language, micro-expressions, and tone can reveal a lot about whether someone is interested. And whether the other person reciprocates interest or is indifferent, it's not easy to hide. In early societies, whether two people could agree on intimacy wasn't based on language but on intuitive cues like these.

In Jenny's case, Gore's interest in her was clear. Though this was their first conversation, she could read him instantly. Yes, he was attracted to her, and his sexual interest was apparent. But people aren't entirely driven by instinct. Gore, now, treated Jenny the same way her ex-husband's employees treated her: aware of her beauty but knowing better than to act on it.

As a wealthy young lady keen on avoiding drama, Jenny knew it was important to maintain a polite, professional relationship with these potential admirers. She controlled every gesture that could be misinterpreted, even though she was warm—her warmth was purely commercial. Jenny had no problem showing her business interest in Gore. It made sense that Cesare might have introduced him to her through the Robert-Agata-Gore connection. Agata wasn't particularly close to Cesare, so she had no reason to hide anything. Gore likely knew Cesare had an interest in Pirates of the Caribbean.

"I think you've heard of me before, outside of meeting me," Jenny said.

Gore, equally interested but composed, didn't take immediate action. His maturity stood out in contrast to Dave's behavior. He kept his cool and exuded the reserved air of a renowned director. "I heard that you and your agent are interested in Pirates of the Caribbean."

Jenny nodded. "I suppose so, or else Cesare wouldn't have been so persistent in trying to get you to the show." She gave a self-deprecating smile. "But judging by how you've been acting, should I take that as I'm out of the running?"

"A young actress as talented as you will never be out of the game," Gore replied. "But I have... strange habits. It's precisely because you're interesting that I kept my distance—this is business. I don't want to know how charming you are in private, or how easy you are to talk to. What matters to me is whether you can stay dedicated for the duration of filming, whether your acting is reliable, and how you perform on stage. That's what I care about."

If Jenny were unaware of the inner dynamics at play, she might have bought his performance.

Jenny, however, wasn't naive. She'd seen enough Hollywood social games to know that Gore was pretending to be distant and professional, masking his inner thoughts. He believed he was keeping his emotions in check, but Jenny could tell what he was really after. As she guided the conversation, she realized that they were both playing a delicate game.

"So, you came to speak with me today because I've failed?" Jenny didn't feign despair, but instead channeled Cesare's technique of keeping her emotions under control—calm, professional, and businesslike. This approach worked in her favor; the less feminine and vulnerable she appeared, the better.

"Quite the opposite," Gore raised his glass, clinking it with hers. "I hope you'll find time to audition for Pirates of the Caribbean."

Jenny's eyebrows lifted, her surprise restrained yet genuine, mixed with a touch of skepticism. "Can I ask why you decided this suddenly?"

"When I saw Chicago for the first time, I knew I was watching something great." Gore's tone shifted, slipping into a more professional mode. Jenny could sense the change in his body language—he was no longer focused on her appearance, but on the work at hand. "You're a talented actress, with both beauty and skill. But more than that, you have an energy... a certain magic."

Gore paused, as though searching for the right words, but ultimately borrowed Agata's description. "As Agata said, you have a rare quality—something that draws the audience in and holds their attention. It's a talent that can push you to the top."

He continued, his gestures emphasizing his points. "I can boldly say that among the actresses I've worked with, only Julia Roberts had a similar presence. And, honestly, you're even more beautiful."

Jenny smiled humbly, a bit flattered but keeping her composure. "You're too kind, Mr. Verbinski."

"No," Gore laughed lightly, "I just haven't worked with enough major stars yet."

Gore was aware of Jenny's resume, acknowledging its imperfections. "I know you don't have the typical credentials that would make you an obvious choice. Your agent's trying to get you in through face-to-face recommendations. But I don't care about your resume. I want an actress who can act, who has the kind of presence that fits the character of Pirates of the Caribbean. When I came to New York looking for talent, I found someone with potential, and I won't give up on making the movie better because of resume details."

The mention of the production's scale and difficulty didn't phase Jenny as much as she thought it might. She could see Gore's deeper interest—his support for her had nothing to do with her beauty alone. If she hadn't shown enough strength for the leading role, he wouldn't have watched her performances for days on end. He would have moved on.

"So, these past ten days—"

"I didn't miss a single one of your performances." Gore extended his hand once again, this time with a restrained smile. "Congratulations, Miss Jefferson. You've earned this audition."

Jenny, feeling her excitement, restrained a smile and offered her thanks. "Thank you for your confidence."

As their hands lingered a moment longer than usual, Jenny could sense that the dynamic was shifting once again. The conversation had moved from business to something more primal—Gore's interest in her was rekindling.

"Now, if it's okay, I'd like to hear more about the project," Jenny said, steering the conversation to more concrete details. "I've heard so little about it. My agent was careful not to reveal too much, but I've gathered that it's something I can't afford to miss."

Gore's demeanor changed, all business once again. "The difficulty of Pirates is much higher than Chicago. It's a period piece, with heavy use of green screen. The heroine should ideally be British, though that's flexible. What matters most to me is the presence and charisma of the actress."

Jenny was impressed by the level of detail. Gore clearly had a vision, and she now had a chance to be part of it. But she was also aware of her competitors—native British actresses who could bring more authenticity to the role.

"But the protagonist is Johnny Depp," Jenny added. "The heroine doesn't seem to require much inner drama—"

"A vase?" Gore asked with a smile. "Yes, but even playing the vase requires skill. It's not as easy as it sounds."

Jenny agreed, acknowledging the complexity of the role despite its apparent simplicity.

"Yes, appearance plays a significant part. I'm confident in my ability to pass the audition." She tossed her long hair back, emphasizing her point.

Gore stared at her for a moment, his expression pensive. "I noticed a ring on your finger—are you married?"

Jenny smiled faintly, "No, it's a chastity ring."

Her response piqued Gore's curiosity. Jenny knew this was her moment to solidify her professional image. "It's rare in Hollywood, but it's something I've decided on for myself. I believe in the value of saving intimacy for my future husband."

While her words carried a certain innocence, Jenny knew they also had a pragmatic side. Gore, a director about to helm a massive project, likely saw her purity as both an appeal and a risk.

"You're... a rare one," Gore said, impressed. "But, you know, your moral stance may affect your audition."

Jenny felt the weight of his words, but she remained focused. "I understand."

Jenny's conversation with Cesare later reflected this shift in dynamics, as she carefully navigated both the personal and professional sides of her budding career. She knew the path ahead would require not just talent, but skillful maneuvering through Hollywood's complex web of relationships and expectations.