Chapter 184
The day after the party celebrating Paige on the yacht, I was sitting in my room in Malibu, talking with Pepper.
"So we spent hundreds of millions on scripts?" I asked.
"Yes, we now own the rights to hundreds of scripts," she confirmed.
"Yeah, but most of them are crap," I muttered.
If we kept releasing blockbuster hits one after another, it wouldn't be surprising if it became harder to negotiate for scripts. Either because writers would start asking for higher prices, or because other studios would jump into the competition.
So we decided to buy as many scripts as I pointed out now.
But besides those that were hits in my past life, we also bought a bunch of crap and unknown ones, exactly to avoid showing we were eager for some specific ones, and to make it harder for other studios to guess our moves.
This applied to TV show scripts too.
The doorbell rang.
"Pepper, my friend just arrived. We'll talk later," I said.
"Okay. Just to finish, Saw will be released this week, with a simple premiere," she added.
"Got it. Bye, Peps," I replied.
"Bye, Jake," she said before hanging up.
I put my phone down, stood up, and headed to the door.
As I opened it, there she was—Pippa, wearing something that looked straight out of a Where's Wally book
"Morning," she greeted.
"Morning," I replied, giving her a thoughtful look.
"What?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, noticing my expression.
"You're dressed like Where's Wally, but without the hat... and yet, you look very cute," I said with a small grin.
Pippa raised an eyebrow and said, "Thanks?!" tilting her head slightly.
Without another word, I placed an arm around her waist and pulled her in for a long kiss.
Moments later, we found ourselves on the deck, the soft morning breeze brushing past us as we kissed again, slowly and unhurriedly.
Eventually, she leaned against the deck railing, her arms resting on the wood as she gazed out at the horizon, where the sky met the sea in shades of gold and blue.
I wrapped my arms around her from behind, resting my chin on her shoulder, feeling the calm rhythm of her breathing.
Leaning closer, I whispered softly in her ear, "Don't think too much. Just enjoy the moment right now."
I knew we were drifting apart. She felt off because of the difference in money. We were worlds apart in that aspect, after all. While she was working hard to study, get into a good university, and secure a great job, I basically bought a yacht—something completely inaccessible to 99.9% of people, even with a Harvard degree and a top-notch job.
Just then, my phone buzzed with a new message.
"An old man poked your father in the stomach with a stick. No apparent danger, but we are staying in position. We didn't take action since he seems harmless, and he hasn't made any other moves."
I blinked at the message
I kissed Pippa's shoulder gently and whispered, "Stay here for a moment, I'll be right back. I need to take care of something."
She nodded; her gaze still fixed on the horizon.
When I walked back inside and headed to the kitchen, I stumbled upon an unexpected conversation:
"Can I get you a cup of coffee?" Alan asked politely.
"Decaf. I'm already pretty enraged," the old man replied gruffly.
"Well, that's certainly understandable," Alan said, nodding.
"I have cookies too," Alan offered.
"I wouldn't say no to a cookie," the old man muttered.
I stepped forward, clearing my throat lightly before speaking. "Good morning. I'm Jake," I introduced myself to the old man.
"I'm Norman"
"Who are you?" I asked
"It's a little complicated, Jake... your Uncle Charlie..." my dad began.
"Got it," I said, cutting him off.
"How did you get it? And what exactly did you get? I haven't even started explaining," Alan said, completely confused.
"Dad, I've lived here for over two years. Norman here is either the dad or sugar daddy of the girl who's with Uncle Charlie."
Yeah, Fergie was a one-night stand. Can't believe Uncle Charlie didn't try for more...
Norman let out a gruff sigh and muttered, "I'm the husband."
I raised an eyebrow and glanced at Dad, giving him a look that clearly said, 'See? I was right.'
Norman gave a small, grudging nod and said, "You gotta give it to him."
He took a bite of the cookie Alan had served earlier, chewing slowly.
"You know, these are really very tasty," Norman said, enjoying the cookie.
I grabbed one too, and planning to take it out to Pippa later, when suddenly Berta walked in.
"Good morning," she greeted.
Alan perked up. "Oh, speaking of tasty cookies... Norman, this is Berta."
"Hello," Berta replied, eyeing the scene. "What is this, a fix-up?"
"No, no. Nothing like that," Alan quickly assured.
"That's good," Berta said dryly. "Because I'd probably kill him. Nothing personal, Cotton Top. I just kind of like it rough."
I thought to myself, eww... suddenly the cookie didn't taste as good anymore.
"Have another cookie," Alan offered, trying to lighten the mood.
"Thank you," Norman replied, taking another one.
Berta looked around and asked, "So is anybody gonna tell me what's going on?"
"Well, it's a little complicated... Charlie—" Alan began.
"Got it," Berta cut him off, nodding knowingly.
She had the same opinion as me, and we high-fived after that.
Berta looked at Norman and asked bluntly, "You got a gun?"
"No," Norman replied, sounding both surprised and a bit offended.
"Berta, if he had a gun, he wouldn't be awake right now," I said, snapping my fingers.
Immediately, one security guard entered from the kitchen door, and another appeared from the other side of the kitchen, both armed with their weapons resting in their hands.
"My security isn't just for show," I added seriously.
I glanced around, then smirked slightly.
"Now that I see this will be solved through conversation, excuse me," I said, starting to walk away. "I have a lady waiting for me."
But just before I reached the door, I turned back with a mischievous grin.
"Norman, you can poke Uncle Charlie... after all, he poked your wi—"
"Jake!" Alan snapped, cutting me off immediately.
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