Chapter 77 – I Know You
In the hotel bathroom, Aaron lounged in the tub with Jennifer Connelly nestled against him, her wet hair clinging to her shoulders.
"How's The Rocketeer shoot going?" he asked, his hands lazily roaming her curves.
"Pretty smooth," Jennifer replied. "Michael Eisner and Jeffrey Katzenberg both came to the set to check in."
Aaron chuckled, squeezing her full 34D with deliberate mischief. "That much attention? What's so special—just a $35 million superhero film based on a comic."
Jennifer shrugged. "Who knows? Aside from Timothy Dalton, the rest of the cast isn't exactly famous."
She leaned up to kiss him on the lips before smiling slyly. "While we were filming, Billy Campbell—the lead—tried to flirt with me."
Aaron smirked. "You're gorgeous and sexy. Men chasing you is perfectly normal."
Campbell, as far as Aaron was concerned, was a nobody. Disney clearly wasn't banking on him to carry the movie. The brand power of The Rocketeer comic was the real draw.
"I told him I already have a man," Jennifer teased, batting her thick lashes. "He's over thirty anyway."
Aaron grinned. She was clearly fishing for his reaction.
"Tell me something," she asked softly. "Do you think I should just drop out of school? Focus entirely on acting?"
Aaron raised an eyebrow. "Eager to quit, huh? But Stanford isn't even a drama school. If you leave, you'll still need proper training somewhere. Planning to rely only on learning from film sets?"
Jennifer's acting was still raw, and Aaron knew it. Even if she wasn't at Stanford, she needed structured drama training to sharpen her craft.
"Learn more—it'll only help you," he said firmly. "At the very least, you'll be able to judge scripts better."
He tapped her lightly. "Come on, get dressed. Remember Critical Passion? The movie you almost took? It just premiered in L.A. Let's go check it out."
Jennifer sighed but nodded. "Alright…"
She'd already turned down Critical Passion after signing with Aaron—just like she'd skipped Career Opportunities earlier that year. Both roles had been little more than excuses to flaunt sex appeal in low-budget films. Not worth her career.
---
At 10:30 that night, they sat together in a small Fountain Avenue cinema screening Critical Passion.
"I just bought a theater nearby, also on Fountain," Aaron whispered in the dark. "It's under renovation now. Soon we'll be watching films in our own screening room."
"When does it open?" Jennifer asked.
"Next year. Not long."
On-screen, Critical Passion unfolded—based on a 1950s novel. A drifter wanders into a desert town, lands a job selling used cars, seduces both the sultry boss's wife and the sexy young secretary, all while plotting a bank heist.
The plot was paper-thin, riddled with holes. Aaron scoffed. "How does a middle-aged, average-looking guy win over both Virginia Madsen and Uma Thurman? No logic at all."
He pointed at the screen. "See? The role Uma Thurman played—originally offered to you. Look at it. Besides showing off her chest and body, there's nothing there."
The theater was half-empty, and Aaron wasn't surprised.
Jennifer flushed, embarrassed. She could see it too—the only real highlights were Virginia Madsen and Uma Thurman serving up sex appeal.
She leaned close, whispering, "Aaron, don't you think Virginia Madsen has a certain… allure?"
Aaron nodded. "Great body. And she has that mature allure."
Virginia Madsen—still under thirty—was striking. Blonde hair, blue eyes, curves that demanded attention, a sensual presence that lit up the screen.
Uma Thurman, on the other hand, was sharper, harder. And she had an NC-17 erotic drama, Henry & June, set to release later that year.
"Relax," Aaron whispered with a grin, kissing Jennifer Connelly. "None of them compare to you."
In the dark emptiness of the small theater, the two embraced. Cinemas had always been one of Hollywood's favorite places for couples to get lost in each other. Jennifer melted into the kiss, moaning softly as Aaron's hand slid beneath her blouse.
---
Ever since he'd bought into oil futures, Aaron had been glued to the price of crude. Every tick upward was profit; every dip was loss.
But markets weren't his only worry. Orion Pictures—the troubled studio behind The Silence of the Lambs—was in free fall. Their latest release, The Critical Passion, had cost over $10 million and barely made $2 million at the box office. A disaster.
---
Culver City, Sony Pictures Studios.
Both Ghost and Boyz n the Hood were in post-production here. At the studio café, Aaron sipped coffee with director Edward Zwick, discussing final cuts before shifting the conversation.
"Kevin's already started filming JFK," Zwick mentioned. "But Ghost doesn't need reshoots. Just some dubbing for his lines—shouldn't take much time."
Aaron leaned back. "I've been watching him closely. His directorial debut, Dances with Wolves—that film is something special. When it hits theaters, it's going to cause a stir."
Zwick raised a brow. "Didn't expect such high praise from you. I heard he fought Orion over the runtime?"
"Yeah. His cut ran four hours. Orion forced him to trim it down to three for theaters."
Aaron's interest wasn't casual. He knew what was coming. By the time the Oscars rolled around next year, Dances with Wolves would sweep the awards, catapulting Kevin Costner to the top of Hollywood.
And when summer arrived, Costner's fantasy romance Ghost would ride that wave straight to blockbuster status. Aaron could hardly contain his excitement just thinking about it.
At that moment, a woman entered the café—sexy, self-assured. Demi Moore.
Zwick had worked with her before. He stood, greeted her warmly, and introduced her to Aaron.
"Good afternoon. Aaron Anderson," Aaron said with an easy smile, offering his hand.
Her grip was firm, her eyes bright. "I know you. The young producer everyone's talking about. You're making quite a name for yourself."
Demi wasn't just acting anymore—she'd stepped into producing as well. Her latest project, Mortal Thoughts, a dark psychological thriller starring herself and her husband Bruce Willis, was also in post-production at Sony Columbia.
Aaron smiled. "And I know you too."