Chapter 152: Seductively Intoxicating
Off the coast of Los Angeles, near Santa Catalina Island, Aaron Anderson was enjoying a leisurely yacht getaway with Winona Ryder.
On the deck, Winona lay stretched out on a lounge chair in a sexy bikini, soaking up the sunshine.
Nearby, Aaron was on his phone, finishing up a call.
"Even on vacation, you can't forget about work?"
Winona teased as she watched him hang up.
"It's nothing important," Aaron said with an easy smile.
He leaned down and kissed her, warm and unhurried.
"Feels good, doesn't it? A weekend getaway like this really helps you relax."
As he spoke, his hand traced slowly along her body.
Winona nodded softly.
"It really does. No paparazzi, no flashing cameras… no ridiculous questions."
Her past relationship with Johnny Depp had been a favorite target for gossip columns.
Now that they had broken up, the media interest hadn't faded—if anything, it had intensified.
Aaron straightened, facing the sea breeze, stretching lazily.
"Don't think about that. When it's time to enjoy life, just enjoy it."
"Tonight we'll head over to Avalon Harbor. I hear the seafood there is incredible."
Winona stepped over and wrapped her arms around his waist, her voice low and teasing.
"With me around… do you really think you'll still have an appetite for seafood?"
Aaron raised an eyebrow—then scooped her up in one motion.
Amid her surprised laugh, he carried her straight into the yacht's bedroom.
"Aaron," she said with a grin as he pressed her down gently,
"It's not even evening yet—can't you wait?"
"Tonight…" he murmured, smiling,
"we'll keep going."
And with that, he undid the last restraint holding her in place.
---
After a weekend of intoxicating indulgence with Winona Ryder, Aaron immediately threw himself back into Dawnlight Films' production schedule.
With Speed and Four Weddings and a Funeral both nearing the start of filming, time was tight.
In June, Speed officially went into production in Los Angeles, while Indecent Proposal crossed $75 million at the box office.
In Westwood, at the Mann Village Theatre, an Irish film titled The Crying Game was being screened.
Seated below were representatives from several American independent distributors.
Among them was Brad Grey from Dawnlight Films.
The moment the film ended, Brad stood up and moved quickly toward the producers—intent on securing the North American distribution rights.
But someone beat him to it.
Harvey Weinstein.
Miramax.
Brad immediately reported back. Soon after, a print of The Crying Game landed on Aaron Anderson's desk.
The film was set during the Northern Ireland conflict. An IRA soldier, weary of war, defected and fled to London…
There, he sought out the girlfriend of a Black British soldier he had once taken captive—and became entangled in an unexpected relationship.
Aaron watched in silence.
Then—
"Fuck."
"That's a man."
Inside Dawnlight Films' screening room, the so-called Black "girlfriend" turned out to be a man—feminine in appearance, a cross-dresser.
"Yes," Brad Grey explained,
"that twist is the film's biggest punch. The entire movie is steeped in political kidnappings, terrorist assassinations, and blurred sexual identity."
"It's a bit rough around the edges," he added, "but Irish director Neil Jordan handled the material well. The limitations are mostly due to budget."
As Brad elaborated, Aaron came to understand just how difficult The Crying Game had been to make.
With a budget of under £2.5 million, the producers and director had scraped together funding from Japan, Britain, France, and elsewhere. The concept had never appealed to American investors, so few U.S. distributors were even approached during production.
"The film's solid," Aaron said decisively.
"Dawnlight should take it."
Brad nodded. "Miramax seems interested too."
"The producer, Stephen Woolley, actually approached Miramax before filming—but they declined to invest. Now that the film's finished, suddenly they want in."
Aaron smiled faintly.
"Miramax? Do they even qualify to compete with Dawnlight?"
"After this year's Oscars, isn't Dawnlight's reputation clear enough?"
That was soft power. As for hard strength—Miramax didn't even belong in the same conversation.
Among independent studios, Dawn now stood alongside Carolco as one of the true giants. New Line, Samuel Goldwyn, Orion—all ranked behind. And unlike Carolco, which focused purely on production, Dawn dominated distribution, making it the undisputed king among independents.
Brad agreed. The Crying Game was clearly awards-oriented, and Dawn had plenty of experience handling that space.
"As long as the major studios don't step in," he said, "no one can outbid us."
"I'll go talk to Woolley, then."
"Go ahead," Aaron said.
As for Miramax?
Aaron didn't give them a second thought. Two consecutive years of losses, mounting debt—hardly a threat anymore.
---
That afternoon, Nicole Kidman arrived at Aaron's office.
"The premiere for Sleepless in Seattle is coming up," she said, settling into his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck before kissing him.
"Will you attend?"
Aaron wasn't particularly fond of public premieres these days—he usually appeared only for the post-screening reception.
"You want me to walk the red carpet with you?" he teased.
Smiling, he kissed her full lips and casually undid the buttons of her blouse.
"Mmm…"
Their kiss deepened, breath hot and entangled.
When they finally parted, Nicole leaned against him, slightly breathless.
"You've always been confident about Tom Hanks," she said softly.
"He is the male lead, after all."
Aaron rested his face against her chest, voice low.
"Relax. Tomorrow night's free. I can spare time for a premiere."
She nodded, then leaned close to his ear, smiling mischievously.
"By the way… when I came in, I locked the door."
With that, Nicole perched herself on the desk, long legs lifting, blouse slipping halfway down to reveal smooth, pale shoulders.
Aaron's lips curled upward as he stood, wrapping an arm around her waist and sliding his hand along her thigh.
"Australia's finest export," he murmured.
"Turns out that reputation isn't exaggerated at all."
As she reached for his belt, Nicole whispered,
"You've never been to Australia, have you? You should visit sometime. The government's pushing cultural and film industries—there's plenty of policy support."
Aaron paused thoughtfully.
"Australia… Southern Hemisphere. It should be winter there now, right?"
"Mmm," she answered, pulling him back into a kiss.
Before long, the office was drenched in heat and desire.