I am Hollywood

Chapter 264: The Wolf of Wall Street



[Chapter 264: The Wolf of Wall Street]

Eric sighed and said, "It's hard to explain in just a few words. Anyway, I'm just thankful that those two didn't burn my house down these past few days."

On the other end of the line, Jeffrey laughed again and then added, "You must not be feeling well at home, huh? Dinner time is fast approaching. How about coming over here for a meal? You could also get acquainted with Chris."n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Eric was just looking for someone to chat with and didn't want to disturb Jeffrey's family time. He hesitated before asking, "Is that appropriate?"

"What's inappropriate about it? It's a holiday, after all. The more, the merrier! It's usually pretty quiet around here; it'd be great if you came over. Oh, and if you want, you can bring those two girls with you."

Eric figured that the two girls wouldn't have a chance to squabble in front of others, so he agreed, "Okay, I'll head over now."

"Get here quickly! I gotta go; I have things in the oven!" Jeffrey said, not waiting for Eric to respond before hanging up.

...

Eric put down the receiver, returned to his bedroom to change, and then went downstairs.

Drew and Aniston were fighting for control of the TV when they spotted Eric walking downstairs in nice clothes. They both felt a twinge of alarm.

"Eric, where are you going?" the two girls asked in unison.

Eric feigned annoyance and said, "You two are being too noisy. I've decided to spend Thanksgiving elsewhere."

"No way!" The girls jumped off the couch and rushed to Eric, wrapping their arms around him from either side. They exchanged glares before both chanted, "It's your fault!"

Eric rubbed his temples and said, "Alright, enough already. Jeffrey just called and invited me over for dinner. Who wants to go?"

"I do!" came their simultaneous response.

"Okay, you have ten minutes to get ready. Anyone who dawdles isn't going."

With that, Drew and Aniston dashed up the stairs in a flurry.

Arriving at Jeffrey's place, Eric rang the doorbell, and the door quickly swung open.

A young man, dressed sharply in a suit and bearing a resemblance to Jeffrey but noticeably taller, greeted them with a faint smile and extended his hand. "Hello, Mr. Williams."

"Just call me Eric," he replied, shaking the young man's hand. "It's great to meet you, Chris."

Chris Hansen nodded at the two girls and took the red wine that Eric had offered, saying, "Please, come in."

The three of them followed Chris inside. Jeffrey's home looked just as it did before -- no, even tidier than the last time Eric visited, likely because his son was back.

Since it was Drew and Aniston's first time at Jeffrey's place, they exchanged surprised glances upon seeing the modest apartment that didn't quite match Jeffrey's wealth. Aniston managed to keep her mouth shut, but little Drew blurted out, "If Jeffrey is so rich, why does he still live here?"

Eric shot her a warning look to keep her comments in check, but Chris Hansen chimed in, "My dad is a bit sentimental and hasn't wanted to move."

"Oh," the little girl nodded lightly, a bit chastised.

...

The three of them settled in the living room, and Jeffrey quickly emerged from the kitchen wearing an apron. Upon seeing them, he said, "Eric, you all sit tight. Dinner will be ready soon."

"Need any help?" Eric immediately asked.

Jeffrey shook his head, "No, no, it's fine. Emily is helping me out; you all just chat with Chris." With that, he disappeared back into the kitchen.

Chris Hansen laughed awkwardly and explained, "When I was seven, I messed around in the kitchen and got burned by hot oil. Ever since then, my dad wouldn't let me near the stove."

Eric chuckled, nodding in understanding, and exchanged glances with the two girls, who then obediently made their way to the kitchen.

The sounds from the kitchen included Jeffrey's muffled voice and another sweet-sounding girl's exclamation of surprise, quickly fading into hushed whispers.

The two men exchanged amused glances in the living room.

Eric had been quietly observing Chris Hansen from the beginning. So far, he hadn't sensed any of the fierce aura associated with a Yale grad, which was something Jeffrey once mentioned about him receiving a full four-year scholarship and working for one of the big four investment banks, Morgan Stanley.

Eric could only surmise from Chris's impeccably tailored suit that he must be either a perfectionist or have quite a reserved demeanor. Of course, the former seemed more likely.

"Eric, what are you thinking about?" Chris asked suddenly.

Since he was Jeffrey's son, Eric naturally felt a bit of kinship and replied candidly, "Jeffrey mentioned you worked at Morgan Stanley. I was wondering why you don't give off any of that Wall Street Wolf vibe?"

Chris paused, then smiled and asked, "What do you think a Wall Street Wolf looks like?" Eric thought for a moment before responding, "At the very least, should be aggressive, right? But you seem more like a meticulous researcher from some lab."

Chris shook his head and replied, "Eric, you're wrong. The more 'aggressive' you say a Wall Street Wolf is, the less aggressive they appear on the surface. You can look up photos of some of Wall Street's top executives -- most of them blend in so seamlessly that you wouldn't even notice them in a crowd."

It was Eric's first time hearing this perspective. He pressed on, "Why do they do that?" "It's because it helps them blend in and dulled the instincts of the enemy, making their opponents less vigilant."

Eric nodded thoughtfully, "By the way, Chris, what do you actually do there?"

"Pretty much whatever makes money," Chris answered simply.

Eric chuckled and asked, "If Firefly Films wanted to go public, could they come to you?"

At this, Chris's smile faltered slightly, and he replied, "Eric, whether you meant it as a joke or

not, if Firefly does want to go public, it must be with me handling it. You know what the name means to me; I want it to develop well."

Noticing the seriousness in Chris's tone, Eric nodded earnestly in response.

*****

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