In November, Los Angeles was graced with crisp, clear autumn skies and drifting clouds. Although the chill of early winter mingled with the sea breeze blowing in from the West Coast, autumn's footsteps were still reluctant to leave. The gentle gusts of wind caused the skin to tighten slightly, carrying with them the coolness that blended autumn and winter into one.
Hugo and Joseph had finished the morning's radio recording session and then drove together to the company headquarters. The publicity campaign for Scent of a Woman had already entered its final stage, and the schedule was gradually becoming less hectic.
The early 1990s were not like the 21st century. After the year 2000, competition in the North American film market had grown increasingly fierce, with over a hundred films screening in theaters in a single week being nothing unusual. As a result, publicity wars became extremely heated—often, box office competition was essentially a battle for promotional dominance. But now, in the early '90s, there were fewer than twenty films released in theaters in a given week, so competition in publicity was comparatively milder. Scent of a Woman had already been promoted for over three weeks, which was considered quite a long campaign.
After entering the headquarters, Joseph and Hugo first went to the seventeenth floor. When the staff in the office saw Hugo arrive, they greeted him warmly with waves. Compared with the upper floors, the atmosphere here had always been more lively. The mid- and lower-level agents were more united and approachable—of course, this was in the absence of conflicts of interest. Once those arose, who knew whether the mood here would become as cold as upstairs? It was entirely possible that, before interests clashed, the upper floors had once been as harmonious as the seventeenth.
After Joseph checked with the front desk to confirm there were no calls for him, he went to his desk and phoned Universal Pictures to finalize the publicity schedule for next week. Then he motioned for Hugo to follow him back into the elevator. Hugo watched as Joseph pressed the button for the twenty-third floor and couldn't help but look over in puzzlement. "Going to see Ron?" Ron's office was on the twenty-third floor.
"No," Joseph shook his head, his expression hardly changing. Over the past year, Joseph's attitude toward Ron had gradually shifted. "I'm going to see Rick Rosen about something."
"Rick?" Hugo was not unfamiliar with the name. The house they were renting now had been found with Rick's help, and to thank him, they had even invited Rick to the shared apartment for a meal.
Joseph nodded in confirmation. "He said he has something to discuss with me, so I'm going to check it out." The elevator soon stopped at the twenty-third floor. Joseph turned to Hugo and said, "I'm not sure what it's about. Just wait here for a bit." Since this was a talent agency—in essence, a service intermediary—clients came in constantly, and every office had a lounge area with sofas outside. So finding a seat was no problem for Hugo.
Watching Joseph head off to the left, Hugo realized Rick was an agent on the same level as Ron, since he had his own independent, large office. Hugo hadn't noticed it before, but Rick was neither flamboyant nor domineering—in fact, he had a certain gentlemanly demeanor. Hugo had once joked with Alex, "With that kind of personality, he won't be able to land clients." After all, in the agent world, a strong personality was considered essential to seize the initiative—that was the rule. But now, it seemed, that wasn't always the case.
While Hugo was sitting on the sofa lost in thought, a staff member carrying coffee suddenly appeared in his line of sight, stopping right beside him. "Two packets of sugar, no milk, right?"
For a moment, Hugo didn't react, simply nodding in a daze. The young woman bent down to place the coffee on the table beside the sofa; her pencil skirt traced the curves of her figure perfectly. Then she flashed Hugo a bright smile before gracefully turning away.
What was going on here? In his past visits to the company, nothing like this had ever happened. No one had so much as acknowledged him before, much less brought him coffee—let alone remembering exactly how he took it and throwing him a flirtatious glance. A smile tugged at the corners of Hugo's lips. It seemed that not only the seventeenth floor, but also the twenty-third, had changed its attitude toward him.
It was hard to believe that the success of just Scent of a Woman could bring about such a big change. The entertainment industry truly was the most realistic, most ruthless, and most direct place of all. The way it flattered the successful and trampled the unsuccessful was shockingly blatant.
Picking up the coffee, Hugo inhaled the rich aroma. Taking a light sip, he let the sour, bitter, and sweet flavors dance on his tongue—a genuine pleasure. Through the hazy steam rising from the cup, he caught sight of an unbelievable figure in the hallway.
She wore a black business suit with elegant, precise tailoring that was both sharp and form-fitting, highlighting her intellectual charm. It was obvious at a glance that the outfit was custom-made. Hugo didn't recognize the back view personally, but his predecessor did—intimately. Alarm bells rang in his mind: this woman was Tracey Jacobs.
And the man standing opposite her was none other than Ron. These two were not only acquainted but well-acquainted—that Hugo had always known. After all, one was his former agent, and the other his former "girlfriend." The last four films he had shot before had been projects on which Tracey and Ron had collaborated. But the question was—what was Tracey doing visiting Ron now? A cooperative project? Or some ulterior motive?
Tracey happened to be taking her leave of Ron. They exchanged a cheek kiss before she turned to walk in Hugo's direction. Ron, standing in his office doorway, didn't linger and quickly went back inside. Tracey had only taken two steps when her gaze landed squarely on Hugo. The corners of her mouth curled into a smile that was neither quite a smile nor not—a look of playful amusement as she regarded him. There was no hesitation, no attempt to avoid his eyes; her gaze met his directly.
Tracey was not beautiful—Hugo had realized that when he had gotten a good look at her in the corridor of the Waldorf Hotel in New York—but he had to admit that, although time had left its marks on her face, it had also honed her temperament into something increasingly refined.
Unlike their previous two encounters, today Tracey made no effort to avoid Hugo's gaze. She looked straight at him with composure, even stopping in front of him, smiling as she did so.
This surprised Hugo, because the last two times they had passed each other, Tracey had acted as though she didn't know him. But today was different. What's more, her position made Hugo slightly uncomfortable—she was standing while he was seated, so she was looking down at him, both literally and with a touch of condescension.
Hugo stood up, coffee in hand. His height advantage made Tracey slowly tilt her head upward to look at him. She seemed a little surprised by the movement, but quickly wore an expression of comprehension and said with a smile, "Long time no see."
Hugo pressed his lips together, the corners of his mouth lifting in the faintest curve—a light smile that seemed entirely indifferent to the situation before him. "Long time no see."
Tracy had clearly not expected Hugo's composure. Her gaze lingered for a moment at the corner of his mouth, and after confirming that his smile was not deliberately put on, she quickly lowered her head and smiled as well, using the motion to conceal the emotions in her eyes. When she raised her head again, she had regained her composure. "Good luck. I just heard from Ron that A Few Good Men has already set its premiere date. I hope everything goes smoothly this time as well."
Hugo's brows furrowed. "My agent is Joseph Gibbs." He did not understand why Tracy would bring up Ron, and furthermore, why Ron would be mentioning his premiere at all—this was entirely unlike Ron's usual behavior.
Tracy arched her brows slightly, paused for a moment, and then offered a faintly apologetic smile. "My mistake." With that, she gave Hugo a slight nod, then stepped forward again, walking away from him.
Watching Tracy's departing figure, Hugo was filled with doubts. On one hand, he wondered why she had mentioned Ron—could it be that Ron was somehow entangled in his affairs again, or was he simply overthinking it and he was nothing more than idle small talk between Ron and Tracy? On the other hand, he was puzzled by Tracy's demeanor—what exactly had happened between her and his predecessor?
What could be confirmed was that their breakup had certainly not been amicable. But whether Tracy had abandoned Hugo, or Hugo had betrayed Tracy and chosen to leave, was unclear. Judging from her attitude today, her earlier encounters with him had been complicated yet cold, even treating him like a stranger. But today, she had taken the initiative to greet him. Her eyes had shifted twice, yet he could not read the emotions within them, and finally, she ended with a cool farewell, not even bothering to say "goodbye."
Hugo truly couldn't find a thread to pull; this fragment of memory had never integrated, so he had no way to investigate further. Still, his instincts told him that whatever had happened before, Tracy had no intention of making things easy for him now—that much was undeniable. From the roundabout rejection of A River Runs Through It, to ignoring him in the hotel hallway, and now to today's subtle maneuvering, it was clear that Tracy was step by step positioning herself in opposition to him—and becoming more resolute about it. Hugo felt a deep sense of unease.
Whether this was merely his paranoia or the actual truth was something he could not yet know.
Hugo looked down at the coffee in his hand, suddenly losing half his interest in it.
"Hugo, Hugo…" Joseph's voice came from the right. Although he kept it low, in the quiet of the twenty-third floor it still sounded unusually abrupt. Turning his head, Hugo saw the joy beaming on Joseph's face, and behind him at the office doorway stood that thin man—none other than Rick. "Come on! Quickly." Joseph waved both hands toward Hugo, a faint light of excitement shining in his brows.
Hugo was somewhat surprised—whatever Joseph and Rick had been discussing actually involved him?
...
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