[Chapter 922: Going Further Down the Path of a Scoundrel]
Although Americans go through political turmoil every four years, it was the event every eight years that mattered most. Serving just one term and then being kicked out wasn't unheard of, but it was rare. Of course, except for the exceptionally unlucky and terrible ones, like George H.W. Bush.
Getting pushed out amid improving economic conditions and better employment was rough. You couldn't deny that some hands were never idle. "Sir, the company registration is complete. Are we acquiring some modeling agencies, or should we develop slowly?" Across from him sat a stout man named Harvey--not the Hollywood Harvey, but a distant cousin of William White, named Harveyberg.
The saying "When poor, no one cares; when rich, distant relatives show up" applied in America as well. But the noisy extended family gatherings typical elsewhere didn't exist here. Relationships were genuine, but if you were incompetent, it didn't matter if people were distant or even close relatives. My money was mine, and you didn't get a dime.
This went for siblings, parents, and spouses alike. In the U.S., you could discuss any topic openly without shame. If you saw a woman you liked, you could ask her out directly; no awkwardness there. But one thing was off-limits to talk about: personal finances. Someone might be poor but didn't necessarily need your help, or wealthy but unlikely to lend you a penny.
"Harvey, you're joking, right? The modeling world? It's a garbage heap. That's what I mean, you get it?"
"Ahem, boss, don't worry, I agree. So, we need to recruit more talent scouts."
"Exactly. America doesn't really produce that many beauties. Let's focus on Europe and South Africa. Oh, and since we mainly do sports brands, no stick-thin girls."
"Got it."
"By the way, NBC is launching a nationwide supermodel talent show soon. Remember, if we don't act quickly, it'll be your loss."
"I already know what to do. I'm on it right away."
Harvey bolted--it was unbearable to stay another second. The NBC talent show buzz needed no explaining. Originally, he thought his distant cousin just wanted him to handle the ladies. Not liking used goods or skeleton-thin models spoke volumes.
Andromeda Models was an offshore company--Harvey understood the implications perfectly. Now it seemed his assumptions were at least partly wrong. I mean, do you open a company just to find a few girls? The idea of professionals managing that was laughable.
William White was a cad but never resorted to shady deals or coercion. As a public figure, he didn't marry but fathered several illegitimate children. Honestly, that was already pushing it. If he'd been more reckless, public outrage would have been inevitable.
At heart, America was a religious country. Without some affiliation, life was tough. If you're a Christian but unreliable, you won't get far. This applied in Europe too. Immigration authorities tried to crack down, but pastors often obstructed enforcement, leading to bigger problems.
During the Soviet breakup, churches played a huge role too. Scenes with tanks adorned with flowers were staged; the truth was streets were lined with Jesus statues. Think about it--like carrying a statue of Confucius back in the day, even emperors had no choice but to tolerate it.
After all this, you might ignore it--this was just a scoundrel trying to justify himself. The higher his status, the more enemies he had. One misstep, and he could be destroyed.
Don't think this is nonsense--Bill Gates and Bill Clinton both almost got taken down. One nearly lost the presidency; the other nearly lost control of Microsoft. Two unremarkable women, not even attractive by any measure--let alone anything glamorous.
Strange? Not at all. Just like your first love or the girl you admired secretly. You study product and market; they study you.
Rest assured, in many agencies' archives, William White's data was extensive: what he liked to eat, what books he read, what kind of women he preferred. Without such files, you weren't truly successful--no one cared.
Clinton and Blair rose quickly too, didn't they? Was it really that simple?
Come on. Back then, public sentiment was that Americans were sick of political dynasties--not fans of the Kennedys, nor the Bushes. So, they welcomed another choice.
People loved a governor-turned-president from humble origins. Overall, if not for a zipper mishap, Clinton was a decent president.
"Nationwide supermodel? A change of pace? Better watch out."
"What are you talking about? America's Got Talent has been running for years. Do you think I've tossed my hat at anyone?"
Nastassja smirked mockingly, "You wouldn't say that if it weren't for that Madonna woman's antics. Seems like you haven't made a move lately."
"Don't underestimate this paper--I say it's worth 500 million. Believe it or not?"
"Is it really that powerful?"
Though Nastassja guessed he was just spinning things to save face, she didn't burst the bubble. Smart women knew when to speak and when to stay quiet.
William White grinned proudly, "If it weren't worth 500 million, why bother? Think about what the people want--a bunch of beautiful women on TV fighting like cats. What could be more entertaining?
Look, you've got beauty, palace intrigue, schemers, calculating ladies, and plenty of white roses. Oh, and if you add some tragedy and melodrama, I'm basically producing an American TV drama."
Nastassja was shocked. This damn rogue--how shameless could he be? Without insider knowledge, she probably would enjoy such a reality show.
Look at Millionaire, holding steady over 10 million viewers. Add America's Got Talent, and these two programs dominate the nation.
One host was the cold-faced queen who never smiled, the other a sharp-tongued man who didn't stop until guests cried. Both these oddballs commanded advertising fees starting in the millions.
With hosts at that pay grade, don't expect cheap ads. Add the nationwide supermodel show? Wow.
"Ahem, darling, doesn't NBC consider itself serious media? Won't this lose some viewers?"
"Yeah, so what? Look, this is an age of entertainment until death. With job pressures, high education costs--damn it--if you don't find some fun, life is just too miserable."
Nastassja had no words. She saw that William had changed. He'd become ruthless, with no limits.
Well, women were emotional creatures. If William White knew how he felt, he'd just shrug helplessly.
In truth, William White never understood limits. The more power you held, the lower your boundaries became. Before, he was scared. Now, he didn't care what others thought.
*****
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