Through the small window of the private charter jet, Duke watched the concrete of Los Angeles, big difference from the ruralness of Idaho.
The plane landed gently, aiming for a private airstrip tucked away in the outskirts of the city.
Duke let out a breath, he rubbed the bridge of his nose, feeling the faint shadows beneath his eyes.
Three weeks of interrupted sleep, diaper changes, and the midnight crying fits had left a mark on him.
Waiting patiently at the edge of the runway was a black Lincoln sedan. Standing beside the open rear door was Russell, Duke's head of security.
The car door closed cutting off the noise of the jet engines outside.
Russell smoothly slid into the driver's seat, shifting the vehicle into gear and pulling smoothly away from the airstrip.
As they merged onto the sun-drenched roads leading down toward the freeway system, the interior of the car remained silent for several minutes.
Duke rested his head back against the leather seat, closing his eyes briefly.
Russell glanced on the rearview mirror, his eyes meeting Duke's reflection before he focused back on the road ahead.
He cleared his throat softly, "The operation was a success, boss," Russell stated. "Nobody in this town has absolutely any idea about the baby."
"The clinic staff in Idaho are locked down under non-disclosure agreements. The birth certificate is perfectly buried in a remote county records office that doesn't even employ a full-time clerk."
"Unless someone specifically knows exactly what to look for and exactly where to look for it, the paper trail is almost nonexistent."
Duke opened his eyes, and nodded slowly. "And the farmhouse? The nanny is solid. She barely speaks to anyone outside the property, and her background check is clean," Russell confirmed, turning the steering wheel to navigate a curve.
Russell paused for a fraction of a second, "But, we do have a minor optics issue to consider upon your return. You were seen publicly with Margaux several times before the pregnancy forced her into...stepping away from the spotlight."
"And more importantly, you are a known workaholic in this town, your sudden disappearance is noticeable." Russell checked his blind spot and merged onto the freeway, "Taking three full weeks off, with no calls, no meetings, and zero public sightings is going to raise questions. People are naturally going to talk. The rumor mill is already starting to spin."
Duke casually raised a hand, to cut off any further talk. "As long as absolutely nothing real appears on the front pages of the tabloids, I genuinely do not care what the lower-level executives whisper to each other on a party."
Russell nodded, dropping the subject, and the car sped toward Hollywood.
Aafter a while, the black sedan pulled off the city streets and approached the gates of Paramount Studios.
The older guard on duty stepped out of his small booth as the car approached. Charlie peered carefully through the partially lowered rear window, his eyes widening in surprise as he recognized the passenger sitting in the back seat.
Charlie broke into a grin, he had worked under three different owners on the Paramount Lot and the Hauser was the best one yet.
"Mr. Hauser! Welcome back, sir! We certainly missed you around here the last few weeks," the older man said, Duke offered a respectful nod and a faint smile. "It is good to be back, Charlie. Did I miss anything while I was gone?"
"Just glad you're back here, sir," Charlie replied, stepping back and waving the car through the gates.
Duke's car rolled slowly and went through the entrance.
Duke stepped out of the air-conditioned sedan and began the familiar walk across the bustling studio lot toward the executive building.
All around him, the magical, daily illusions of Hollywood were being built.
Dozens of crew members carrying lights, coils of thick black cables, and tall wooden ladders rushed past, their faces soaked with sweat.
Actors dressed in elaborate costumes chatted casually near the massive craft services tables.
As Duke walked by, conversations paused. Crew members offered somewhat nervous nods, and whispered excitedly behind their hands. It seems his return was noted.
He bypassed his own office entirely, heading straight down the hallway.
He walked right past a startled blonde atractive secretary and pushed open the door to Robert Evans's office without bothering to knock.
The scene inside was strange to say the least.
Evans was reclined in his leather chair, his silk shirt unbuttoned to his belly button.
A tangle of colorful wires was attached to his chest, leading to a portable electrocardiogram machine while a middle-aged man in a medical coat was leaning him carefully listening through a silver stethoscope.
Evans looked up at the sudden intrusion, his heavily tanned face filled with performative outrage.
"Duke! You're finally back!" Evans shouted, his hands flying up in a dramatic gesture that caused the medical wires on his chest to sway wildly.
"For the love of God, could you knock? I'm in the middle of being examined for a life-threatening cardiac event! I would personally never enter your office like this."
Duke simply sat comfortably on a chair, unbothered by the dramatic display.
"You called my private line three times a day while I was trying to take a personal leave, Robert," Duke said, "You didn't even let me get three uninterrupted weeks away from the insanity of this office, so no,, I am not knocking on your door."
The uncomfortable cardiologist removed the stethoscope from Evans's chest, hastily packing his medical instruments into some bag, and muttered something vague and medically noncommittal about "Extreme stress levels" and "Controlling substances quantities" before fleeing the room.
With the doctor gone, Evans quickly buttoned up his shirt, looking annoyed but relieved at Duke's reappearance.
"I already handled the Kubrick problem, by the way," Evans stated quickly, desperately trying to reclaim the high ground.
He waved his hand dismissively through the air. "It cost us an extra week and a half of production time, but the unedited dailies coming back are gorgeous. Probably the best looking movie i have ever seen."
Duke slowly raised a skeptical eyebrow, "I understand you are flying to London tonight?"
Evans nodded, running a stressed shaking hand through his dark hair.
"Tonight. A series of post-production meetings, I'm aiming for Barry Lyndon to be a second 'Godfather' for Paramount. Also you should check Coppola final cut of The Godfather sequel." Evans sighed, dramatically rubbing his temples as if staving off an approaching migraine.
"Stanley insists that I personally go, and I'll be completely gone for at least a full week." Evans said as he noticed Duke about to leave.
Duke pushed smoothly off the doorframe, but glanced back over his shoulder, offering one final piece of advice. "Get your heart checked out by a real hospital, Robert. And seriously, stop partying every single night like you're still twenty-five years old."
Evans simply waved a dismissive hand. "I'll easily outlive every one on this studio, I'm still young too, by the way, I would appreaciate if you threw me my 45th birthday, we could go to St. Barths together and hire a yatch full of women of the night."
Leaving Evans behind, Duke walked toward the other executive in charge, Barry Diller.
The sharp contrast in management styles was apparent the moment he opened the door.
Diller's office was neat, devoid of unnecessary clutter.
Diller himself was seated behind his desk, with a phone pressed to his ear, his pen moving across a yellow legal pad as he scribbled notes.
He caught sight of Duke stepping into the room, and cut the phone call short without bothering to offer a goodbye.
"You're finally bac. Three weeks of radio silence," Diller said, "I honestly thought you would go maybe work on oil, and abandon the studio."
Duke smiled, pulling out a comfortable chair and sitting down across from Diller's desk. "I was on a necessary personal leave, Barry. Now that I am back, tell me what I missed in the real world."
Diller didn't waste a single second. "January 15th, 1975, the remaining major Watergate conspirators, Ehrlichman, Haldeman, Mitchell, Mardian, and Parkinson were all officially convicted by a federal jury of conspiracy, obstruction of justice, and perjury."
"The sentencing phases will come later, but the political chapter is as closed as it will be. The national mood is also shifting away from the scandal and ANE is now more focused on actual news, I been thinking about bringing it to the forefront of the company if we notice interest."
Diller barely paused for breath, moving to the next cultural event. "January 12th. The Pittsburgh Steelers won their very first Super Bowl, sixteen to six." Diller looked up, gauging Duke's reaction before moving to important profitable internal corporate news.
"But significantly more important to our cpompany, Paramount Television had a triumph, The Jeffersons, a spin-off of All in the Family, officially premiered on CBS to great ratings. We are producing the series alongside Norman Lear."
Duke sat still, absorbing the information, "The Watergate convictions were expected," Duke noted, dismissing the political news.
"The country wants to move on. And as for the Steelers, I did not watch much games this year, so I had no horse in the race."
Also during the 1974 season, the Dallas Cowboys had an 8-6 record and missed the playoffs for the first time in nine years.
"But The Jeffersons... that is good news. Norman Lear knows exactly what he is doing, make sure we extend our overall production relationship with him."
Diller nodded. "Already on it, Duke. I spoke with his representation early this morning. He currently has two promising projects in early development. We have locked in the right of first refusal for both properties."
Duke smiled, satisfied with Diller's proactive competence.
"Good," Duke said, standing up from his chair.
He walked over to the conference table sitting quietly in the corner of the office and unrolled a tightly bound stack of physical newspapers he had brought in with him.
He methodically spread them across.
They were not local Los Angeles trades or New York financial papers.
They were a highly specific collection: The Dallas Morning News, the Houston Chronicle, the Austin American-Statesman, and the San Antonio Express-News.
Diller stood up from his desk, curious, and walked slowly over to the conference table, "What exactly are we looking for here, Duke?"
"There is a consequential election happening next year," Duke explained, "I am not just talking about the presidential race in 1976. They also have a highly contested seat opening up in the United States Senate."
"Currently, Lloyd Bentsen holds it as a Democrat, but internal polling shows the state Republicans are making strides, specially since Lloyd wants to get the democrat presidential nomination."
Duke looked up, his eyes locking onto Diller's. "I need to know exactly how we can break into these local papers."
___
Imma publish anouther chapter in half a day
I've had a doozy of a day(Tucker and Dale vs Evil reference) but seriously, what an stressing day
Bradley will be more of a recurring character but Duke will still be in Hollywood.
you guys want more politics? Filmmaking? Entertaiment in general? Other people POV? More Kingdom Building?