The lavish gilded courtyard and an oversized outdoor pool sent Claire's hormones into overdrive! The pool and its surroundings were teeming with gorgeous men and women in bikinis, splashing and flirting. Naturally, the older guys were the ones soaking up the most attention from the crowd, with beauties hanging off their arms. The sight was a bit much for Claire.
He glanced down at his formal evening wear and then at Dujuan, who'd already been whisked away from the courtyard by Tom Hardy. Scratching the back of his head, Claire muttered awkwardly, "Do I stick out like a sore thumb here?"
Tom Hardy, noticing Claire's "social rookie" vibe, gave him a reassuring pat on the back. "No, no, no. This place is a playground for investors and big-shot directors. To keep things smooth with your date, my wife took the ladies to her study."
Claire followed Tom's gesture to a three-story building glowing with warm yellow light in the northeast corner of the estate. He couldn't help but smirk—only rich people would call an entire building a "study."
As they chatted by the pool, Claire politely turned down several flirty bikini-clad women. Tom didn't push him, respecting his choices.
Meanwhile, Dujuan sat quietly beside Charlotte Riley in her private study, which was already packed with stunning women. When Dujuan spotted her senior, Gisele Bündchen, among them, she instinctively glanced out the window overlooking the pool. She caught Claire rejecting a sultry swimsuit model, and a sweet smile crept onto her lips.
"That footballer's pretty great, huh?" a voice chimed in.
Dujuan turned to see Anne Hathaway, her colleague from IMG Models, sitting beside her. "Hey, Anne!"
To Dujuan's surprise, Anne plopped down right next to her, making her a tad nervous. Just then, Charlotte approached, handing Dujuan a glass of red wine and a delicate fruit platter. "Anne, you here with Christian Bale?"
Anne shrugged casually, clinking her glass against Dujuan's. "Nah, he's not big on these scenes. I came with Director Christopher Nolan."
Charlotte nodded thoughtfully and fell silent, though Dujuan noticed her stealing glances at her husband. Following her gaze, Dujuan saw Claire holding his own—rejecting more women and even sticking to water instead of alcohol.
"Is he someone the agency set you up with?" Anne's voice carried a hint of tension.
As a rising star at IMG, Anne Hathaway was impossible to miss. She'd skyrocketed in the fashion world with The Devil Wears Prada and snagged deals with Lancôme and LV. At any agency, money talks, and Anne was a cash cow. She was the top earner in 2006 and held her own alongside Gisele at Victoria's Secret. Her effortless crossover into acting was enviable, and Dujuan couldn't help but admire her.
Initially, Dujuan had been nervous about mingling in British high society. She'd admit she came hoping to leverage Claire's status, but his respect and lack of judgment made her reassess him. Anne's question, though, was laced with the paranoia every model and artist feels. Dujuan's presence at such an event raised eyebrows, and Anne wanted answers.
As a lesser-known model, Dujuan knew she had to play it safe to avoid trouble. "Claire's date was supposed to be Megan Fox, but she couldn't make it. A reporter friend asked me to step in."
Anne seemed satisfied with the explanation and didn't press further. Instead, she chatted with Dujuan about other things, gushing about how impressive Tom Hardy and Charlotte were. Charlotte, pretending to read, couldn't help but laugh at Anne's charm.
But when Charlotte's eyes caught an older man with several swimsuit models clinging to him approaching her husband, she froze. Dujuan and Anne followed her gaze.
Claire, already drained from socializing, took a swig of mineral water and tucked away a stack of screenwriter business cards. Big-name stars often dabbled in investing for fun, and Claire was no different. He might not have deep pockets, but he was open to trying. As the saying goes, "It doesn't matter if the cat's black or white, as long as it catches mice." For Claire, a script that made money was a good script.
Just as he was about to follow Tom Hardy to meet the Batman series director, a scruffy, artsy-looking man approached. "Hey, Tom!" he said, casually smacking the backside of a swimsuit model leaning on him. The girl giggled and sauntered off, leaving the three men.
The move shattered any artistic aura in Claire's mind, but Tom didn't bat an eye. "Danny Boyle, Slumdog Millionaire wrapped yet?"
Claire's ears perked up. The Danny Boyle? He stole a few extra glances.
"If all goes well, I'm taking it to the Oscars this year," Danny said, sipping whiskey with a grin.
Claire stayed quiet, smiling politely beside Tom. He wasn't one to schmooze for clout.
"Danny, meet my friend Claire Lee," Tom said. "Man United's main roster, the hottest film composer in the UK right now, and a singer to boot. He wrote One Day for Michael Bay's movie."
At the mention of One Day, Danny's nonchalant demeanor vanished, replaced by enthusiasm. Claire was used to this by now—Tom always dropped the One Day bombshell last, turning heads. Early on, Tom would give a heads-up to avoid awkwardness, but now he seemed to enjoy the surprise, like a classic British "play dumb, win big" move. It was Claire's first real glimpse of how much influence his song had in the film world.
"Song hits before the movie even drops? Michael Bay owes you an MV. That track didn't just give Transformers its 'anti-war' vibe—it opened doors to the Middle East and Asian markets," Danny said, clearly impressed.
Claire played along smoothly. "Aw, shucks. Too bad I donated all the proceeds."
Danny scoffed. "Don't give me that noble act. Everyone knows that song's for charity only. Try using it commercially, and Warner Records' legal team will have your head—they're not raising pigs over there!"
The three shared a knowing laugh. "But I heard you licensed One Day to an ICM artist," Danny continued, patting Claire's shoulder. "You're young, kid—don't let women be your downfall. They're poison. That move cost you the North American single licensing market."
After that, Danny shifted to talking Inception investments with Tom, and Claire tuned out. From what he gathered, Inception was in pre-production, with only a few minor roles left to cast, and the funding was already overflowing. They even debated who'd get investment slots and who wouldn't.
The Batman trilogy's production team, unchanged and backed by the British royal foundation (with a stake rivaling Warner's), was a powerhouse. The first Batman prequel raked in $1 billion globally, with $5 billion in merchandise and licensing. Licensing was a goldmine.
Their bragging session ended when another prominent British director arrived, accompanied by an old friend of Claire's. "Hey, Jason, how's it going?" Claire called out.
"Thanks to you, man," Jason Statham replied. "Luc Besson, this is Claire Lee, the marketing genius I told you about. My film The Bank Job got a boost because of him. Spielberg's a fan, you know."
Claire wasn't surprised Jason and Luc hit it off—Transporter 3 was already in production.
After thanking Tom for his hospitality, Luc turned to Claire. "Wow, One Day's killer. I'm shooting Taken right now. If you've got any ideas, hit me up."
Jason leaned in, whispering, "I know you've got an Asian female friend. If you're interested, bring her for an audition. Luc's aiming for the market, like with Transporter 1."
Claire's interest piqued, but Tom was eager to move on. "I'll catch you later," Claire said.
As Luc's group left, Tom muttered, "They're Nolan's friends. If I had my way, they wouldn't be here."
Claire nodded, not prying into Tom's beef with Jason. His main goal was meeting Batman trilogy director Christopher Nolan. With The Dark Knight about to drop, Claire needed that momentum—money was the priority.
After collecting business cards from screenwriters, directors, and investors, Claire and Tom reached a tent. Even before entering, Claire sensed the awkward vibe. Leonardo DiCaprio's familiar voice drew constant flattery from the crowd.
Inside, Leo was as dazzling as he'd been at London Fashion Week. The confirmed Inception cast looked familiar, but they didn't know Claire, nodding only at Tom before resuming their Leo worship. Claire didn't mind, focusing on Christopher Nolan, who gave him a subtle, smiling nod but didn't interrupt Leo's grandstanding.
Sycophancy was the tent's theme. Despite Leo's ups and downs from Titanic to Blood Diamond, his charm was undeniable, giving him an edge other men lacked. Claire watched, amused, as everyone fawned over him. The Inception team's confidence in securing funds? Largely thanks to Leo, the "heartthrob."
"Hey, your song's great! We should work together sometime," Leo said to Claire.
"Sure, let's make it happen," Claire replied, surprised Leo even knew him.
Nolan stayed quiet, observing. As the dance outside began, lively chatter from female companions echoed at the tent's entrance. A tall figure appeared.
"My girlfriend's here. Bet I'll be the night's favorite with the ladies," Leo quipped, rushing off with Gisele Bündchen.
With Leo gone, the tent cleared out after quick goodbyes to Tom and Nolan. "The entertainment biz is all about chasing profit and dodging trouble," Nolan said, breaking the ice to ease Claire's awkwardness. Tom nodded in agreement.
"Here's to carving out your spot in the film world," Claire said to Tom, who looked briefly crestfallen. The pressure of funds and connections was wearing him down—not everyone had the patience to wait for his rise.
The tense mood lifted when Charlotte and Dujuan arrived. Dujuan's expression was calm, but Claire noticed a faint smile and a stack of business cards in her hand, matching his own. Tom suddenly remembered something. "That charity event you're planning? I'll help you pitch it to the royals. They rarely say no to positive PR."
"So, the rest of the night's for you and the director—and this lovely lady, of course," Tom said, smiling at Dujuan before leaving with Charlotte.
Nolan, still calm, asked, "Wow, a beautiful woman. Your girlfriend?"
Claire, flustered, sat across from the director. Dujuan, poised and unbothered, chimed in, "Hmm, clearly he's not interested in me."
Nolan feigned surprise, throwing Claire a mischievous look but saying no more.