The instant William turned around, after closing the door, he walked over to the sofa to pick up his laptop; the smile on his lips didn't disappear for a second. It went without saying just how happy he was right now.
— It is the biggest breakthrough we have had in a long time, I can't believe that absurd plan worked — he murmured while heading to the stairs.
'This move paid off, fortunately I didn't have to lie excessively, after all I don't want to lie all the time to the woman who will be one of my wives, in the end that will turn into a snowball that will grow and could end up coming back to bite me', without rushing he climbed each step one by one, pondering carefully on what had just occurred.
The immediate future was planned almost to perfection thanks to hours dedicated to planning a strategy based on the memories William had archived of the coming years.
Now that Natalie had promised to return after accepting his caresses and kisses, he needed to start keeping her in mind for his plans too. He had already promised her the Oscar, and that was never in doubt even if they had remained just friends, but now there was more; on the surface, he had to take into account things like her upcoming movies, prevent her from participating in huge box office disasters, and subtly recommend other works that would fit her perfectly but which she had never even been close to being part of in his previous world.
The relationship with her parents wasn't on good terms either, and it would be even less so when they inevitably learned that their "unwanted" son-in-law surrounded himself with more than one woman. He had to look for a way to at least remain on neutral terms with them.
'Even if I am not a good person, I would never allow her to fight to the death with her parents because of me, I have to find a way, be it economic, social, political, or even religious'.
'Besides, they were something like my godparents once and they were also in favor of our relationship, even if the relationship will never be the same again I don't think they will condemn me directly to hell'.
William was never particularly devoted to any religion, he believed in God in his own way in his past life and now he certainly believed fervently in ROB (God), but he still didn't tolerate religions much as a congregation or group to belong to; however, from now on he had to take them into account too, or at least respect them, especially Natalie's beliefs and more so if that helped the relationship with his future in-laws.
And also, obviously, even if it was "ugly or villainous", now he also had to play his cards right and take advantage of the fact that the Jews were a significant collective power within Hollywood, especially regarding the academy and critics. Through Natalie he could make his way, slowly but forcefully, into the smaller circles of actors and critics of small and medium renown. Not only that, but also the reverse, helping Natalie to have the backing of his own contacts and future economic or productive power.
— Enough William — he scolded himself with an annoyed murmur upon realizing where his thoughts had gone.
He couldn't help it, even if he loved that woman his thoughts always went to business, profit, and loss; it was the only thing he knew before waking up in this body, and even after finding himself surrounded by important people he loved, his mentality hadn't changed much.
— I hope Nat doesn't take long, I just want to stop thinking while she holds me — he said in a low voice to put the subject aside once and for all.
Upon overcoming the last step, William fixed his eyes on the study door, right there where Michel was waiting for him to talk business, real business and not just his ideas of manipulation and control.
In barely four long strides he was in front of the door, he didn't bother knocking, he simply turned the handle and entered directly.
Inside, William had a world completely different from the rest of the house. It was a fairly large office, with armchairs, sofas, shelves full of books, a large desk of fine wood, and even a minibar; the room had a single window and several paintings, among which stood out the large painting behind the desk of a beautiful woman of about forty years with somewhat curly brown hair and green eyes, Isabella Bianchi, his lady mother.
'It is a pity that Leonardo DaVinci or Michelangelo aren't alive to demand they paint the portrait of this woman themselves', he thought as he closed the door behind him without taking his eyes off the portrait.
William truly admired and respected that woman who had raised the original William and from whom his head was now full of memories. Not having had a mother like that to live with was one of the few things he envied about the former owner of the body.
Anyway, inside the study even the smell was different, it smelled of strong coffee, cigarettes, whiskey, and unmeasured ambition, a world apart where he could leave appearances aside even from himself.
— I hope Mr. Nervous is feeling better now — he mocked directly, looking at Michel sitting comfortably on one of the sofas with papers on his lap and a glass of whiskey in the other hand.
The agent and friend, Michel, only looked sideways raising an eyebrow with annoyance before snorting and downing the bottom of his glass in one gulp.
— If one day she interrogates you looking directly into your eyes let me know — he finally spoke, putting the papers aside and standing up.
— Hahaha, she just did and it was a bit exciting, to be honest. You aren't referring to that, right? — replied William walking to an armchair where he dropped himself carelessly.
Facing this question floating in the air Michel didn't bother to stop doing what he was doing; uncorking a bottle that was already halfway empty he poured into a clean glass and refilled his own. Upon finishing he turned around and walked to where William was seated.
— I'd rather shoot myself in the head — his eye contact with William didn't tremble for a second while offering him a glass which William accepted with his carefree smile — simply put, that woman really scares me sometimes.
— You said it, brother — they toasted before Michel returned to his seat in front of William ready to talk business.
The relationship of these two was more than special, forged in problems and fights from school and the street they had created a bond beyond blood. William had a right hand willing to do anything and he wouldn't lag behind if he had to do something for his friend, much more so now that he was the one in control of the body.
This bond of brotherhood forged through problems and survival together was something that William, as a former shady businessman, respected more than anything.
The question hadn't been a trap or a test, William knew that the shooting part wasn't a joke from Michel and perhaps that was why he never limited himself when making these types of jokes with him, they both knew each other too well.
— How was 'therapy'? — asked Michel, also abandoning seriousness with a knowing smile on his lips.
— Productive, actually very productive — replied William after a sip of his drink —. In fact, we can't take too long, Natalie is going to return and I want to cook something before she arrives.
— That good? Are you guys finally going out? — Michel asked excitedly while leaning forward.
— Hahaha, I wouldn't say "going out" but I suppose we will be soon. You withstood the interrogation well so the plan worked almost to perfection — William spoke without ever stopping his smile.
— Good, I am very happy for my brother, I hope not to be in that situation again, I swear to you, I was calm doing my things when suddenly I saw her walking towards me with a look like thunder — Michel let out a sigh of relief.
William placed the glass on the little table to the side after another sip and leaned back relaxedly on the backrest of the armchair stretching his body.
— I should have warned you of my plans, she also had to go to a registered rights matter so I suppose there was a probability that you would meet there — added William while taking a pack of cigarettes from where he took one and lit it quickly, he inhaled a large drag and slowly expelled the smoke through his nose.
The drug addictions of the old William had been eliminated but they left consequences, along with that the vice he already dragged from his previous world meant the current William couldn't stay away completely from cigarettes. He didn't consume even three in a day so the best thing would be to quit, but now that he knew that with his blessed body there were no consequences he hadn't even taken the trouble to try. That said, he had never smoked in front of Natalie, nor Greta, or even in front of any officer, it was one of those secrets/guilty pleasures.
— Yes, you should have warned me but it doesn't matter anymore, the good thing is that you two are okay — Michel really liked seeing things turn out well for his brother —. We should leave business for later then, prepare everything well, you know what Aunt Isabella used to say "the way to the heart is through the stomach".
— You are right, my mother was never wrong with her sayings, but relax, there is still plenty of time, let's do a quick review... Besides, you have to tell me the good news before leaving — commented William and then pointed with his eyes to the bottle from which Michel had poured.
That was a special brand of whiskey, reserved for special celebrations, if Michel had drunk it directly since he arrived it could only mean one thing. Good news.
— Haaaaaaaa. You caught me — after turning in the direction where his friend's eyes pointed Michel quickly realized his mistake —. I always forget how good you are with details.
— Good. Which ones do you want first? — he asked while William took another drag of his cigarette with a triumphant smile.
— Business first, news later — replied William without hesitating twice, then extinguishing the cigarette in an ashtray on the table beside the armchair.
Michel nodded, sat up straight again, and retrieved the papers he had left aside before starting to speak.
— We are at our highest point, Cipher Books is working at maximum capacity since its opening — started reporting Michel recovering his seriousness for business.
At these moments William already had several books published under the name of William E. Bianchi and Cipher Books, of which he owned 85% of the shares. The other 15 was divided into 5% for the CEO that Michel had left in charge of attending the publishing house, Mirtha Leywin, an old editor and businesswoman with many years of experience in the literary sector. The other 10% was obviously in the hands of Michel himself.
This publishing house was William's first acquisition in this world, an old bankrupt publishing house which he bought for 20 million and renamed Cipher Books. The cost wasn't something William could afford to cover so he had been forced to ask for a loan from his dear father, a loan he was desperate to pay off, but all in due time.
— The sales are at: The Truth About the Harry Quebert Affair: 2.7 million copies and rising constantly. Gone Girl: 3.2 million copies. Get Out: just surpassed 1.1 million; and other less sold works like the horror stories crossed the million mark combined.
— In conclusion, total sales exceed 80 million dollars, subtracting percentages and production costs leaves you with about 55 million clear, although obviously not tax-free.
While Michel spoke William simply listened in silence. That was a huge amount for someone who had barely been in the business for two years with all the books of the publishing house written by himself.
This was the reason why William took the risk to get into debt, being the owner of his own publishing house to keep more than 70% of the profits himself after production costs, advertising, and salaries.
Literature wasn't William's strongest point and yet it was the one opening all the doors to success for him.
— Those are excellent numbers, we can pay the debt to my father in one go and... What is that face, Mr. Lawyer? — William was very happy but fell silent upon seeing his agent's expression.
— In fact, since I know you, I had taken the liberty of paying the money to Mr. Ellison directly but... barely three hours ago we received the money back to the account and I received a call from your father — he replied directly without beating around the bush too much, there was no other way to say it.
— He insists that it is a gift from him, that when you get out you must go directly to speak with him — he added after noticing that William's frown wasn't going to relax quickly.
— Old bastard, I don't need gifts at this stage — murmured William directing his frustration to the armrests of the armchair.
The truth is that William didn't expect that at all due to his father's habitual character. Mr. Ellison was a man of his word, and as he remembered and from what he had analyzed, he didn't care about money but he did love to test his children with results. William was no exception and the 20 million had clearly been a loan according to the words of both parties; it surprised him greatly that at the last moment he returned the money saying nonsense about it being a gift.
'This whole thing smells fishy, I suppose I will have to go see him personally, if I know him a little he must have already ordered the bank to deny transfers from any of my accounts'.
— Haaaaaaaa, fine, whatever, I will solve it when I have time — sighed William resigned — let's just continue with the others, good news please.
Michel nodded and said nothing more on the subject but also sighed discreetly, he didn't want to confront William on issues regarding Mr. Ellison, after all he was one of the few people he had and to whom he owed, apart from William's management, his law degree.
— Right. As you already know I was at the agency recently and I bring news, there is a man named Jonathan Tropper who came across the manuscript of Banshee Vol. 1, he is anxious to meet you in person and negotiate to turn Banshee into a Television series — said Michel while closing the papers since he knew the following topics by memory.
— Oh! It caught attention quite fast — murmured William at the unexpected attention his copy of one of his favorite series was receiving.
Banshee was a police and crime series with many intrigues and action, which in his previous life was created, among others, by the same Jonathan Tropper.
'I suppose destiny always tries to correct the things I change with my actions, it is a very pleasant coincidence but... really what power does Jonathan have right now to say he wants to make a Television series... Maybe I am rushing my decision but I don't think it is the right moment'.
'If the series were put into motion not even many of the key actors whose appearance stands out in the script are at the perfect age to play their roles'.
— It is good news but no, we won't make the series for now but I would like to meet this Jonathan Tropper — replied William in the end looking at Michel — it is better to publish the book first as we have done with the others, when his name and mine are sufficient we can give the green light.
— I thought so too, I left his card in the desk drawer — smiled Michel seeing that William and he were still so in sync.
The pseudonym of William E. Bianchi was gaining a lot of popularity these days, the mystery surrounding the writer of such works of modern art made them even more interesting. William had used this as a marketing strategy, the faceless writer who was driving fans of suspense and police crime crazy precisely because of the enigma surrounding him.
Making Banshee a Television series was in fact the final goal but it wasn't the moment, in his past life this series had excellent ratings but unfortunately did not have a media explosion up to the height of its story and he wanted to ensure that this time it wouldn't be the same.
— So... Was that the good news? — questioned William to Michel who had stood up again to pour himself a drink once more.
William also stood up and walked to the minibar where Michel also poured him a drink and they looked into each other's eyes once more.
— It was that, but there's another — said Michel raising the glass toasting with William and taking it all in a single gulp — there is one more...
— The ex-officer Markus Ditta seems to have called in a couple of cases and wanted to pressure to reopen your case — while speaking Michel put a hand on William's shoulder — and he almost achieved it, apparently he called in a couple of favors.
— And that is supposed to be good news? Damn racist bastard! Tell me what happened? — William was extremely serious but by his voice it seemed he wanted to punch someone.
Markus Ditta was none other than the officer with whom he and his old partner Hector had the altercation that led him to be under house arrest for two years. William was sentenced to two years of house arrest and Hector to one year in prison for drug use, drug possession, and assault but Markus Ditta was also permanently suspended from any police or military position and forced to fulfill community service. Obviously the guy was never satisfied with the result and it seems he was playing once more.
— Relax Will, relax — Michel calmed him down holding him by both shoulders with a smile — the bastard hit his wife during the process and she in revenge sold me the recording from his police camera that supposedly had disappeared back then.
— The petition was denied and this time he was sentenced to three years in prison for domestic violence, concealment of evidence, and theft of police material while suspended — Michel finished speaking and William already shared the same excited smile.
— Are you serious? Hahaha — between laughs William poured more drinks, this time himself, and they toasted again — for Hector.
— Yes my brother, the bastard is locked up but that is not all... — Michel released the glass and walked to the armchair from where he took some papers from an envelope he hadn't touched yet — taking advantage of the situation we pulled some favors and pressured the right people...
— By order of the judge, you are free starting next week — stated Michel while handing the envelope to his friend.
There was a sepulchral silence for several seconds while Will stared at the envelope not knowing what to say.
— Shit... — he whispered incredulously without taking his eyes off the paper that would grant him his great longed-for freedom.
Honestly he was already mentally prepared for a couple more months of restriction. What was he going to do now? He didn't have plans for this, but they were excellent news, truly very good news.
— I really love you Mr. Lawyer — was the only thing he could say before ignoring the envelope and hugging his friend tightly.
Both shared the hug for several seconds until finally Will let him go, he wasn't going to cry but without a doubt it was a very emotional moment for him, for both of them actually.
— This is perfect, I want to go to the beach, I want to jump from one building to another, I want to drive on the highway a whole day, I want to visit the fucking cemetery and put flowers for my mother, I want to record my first damn movie, I want to do so many things right now, you don't know how much I thank you for this brother — for the first time in many years taking into account both lives Will felt he didn't have control of his emotions.
He was so happy that he didn't know how to express it simply with words, he simply hugged Michel again for a few seconds before separating again and pouring himself another drink, another toast.
— Wait until Natalie finds out, seriously this is my lucky day, hahaha, I could change my birthday to this day — he said while they returned to the armchairs where William lit a cigarette again which this time tasted like glory and not nicotine and tar.
'That integrated luck function x3 proves all its worth again, ROB I swear to you that if it weren't because it will be seen as a sect I would create a church and a cult for you'.
'I promise you that I am going to entertain you and your children on earth a lot with my works'.
William took a large drag of smoke and even this time encouraged himself to make smoke rings when expelling it, everything was fine until he felt Michel's eyes on him.
— What? — he asked frowning upon seeing Michel observing him like a father watches his son play with the toy he just gave him.
— There is another piece of news that might excite you as much as this last one — replied Michel with a smile more mischievous than other times.
— Another piece of good news? Well? Say it at once — faced with such a revelation Will didn't want to waste time with riddles.
Michel again didn't answer directly, from his pocket he took another card and without saying anything yet he passed it to Will. He took it carefully, upon turning it over there was a phone number in silver letters on a black background and above the number there was a name, a name he didn't expect at all.
— This is... — he couldn't believe it but just then a memory invaded his mind.
— It is the number of James Cameron, "The" James Cameron, I don't know how he found out about your situation and my relationship with you but he said he is working on his new great project and he wants you as the protagonist.
Now he remembered it all, he had almost forgotten that small detail even if that was impossible thanks to his photographic memory.
In the year 1996, barely starting the year, a young William Ellison Bianchi of 14 years just turned, but who looked like 17, participated in the auditions of the great work that was Titanic in its moment and although obviously he didn't get the leading role he earned the praises of the incredibly tough James Cameron who promised him he would remember him.
'I never thought that guy was serious, saying it is one thing and doing it is another very different thing but... he is really summoning me directly for his next movie'.
'We are in 2006 and it is James Cameron so the only possibility that exists is the fucking "Avatar", this madman really finished setting me up for life'.
William simply remained paralyzed while looking at the card with the name and phone number because for someone who besides director and writer wanted to be one of the greatest actors in history, having in front of him the opportunity to star in Avatar would give him a magnificent head start on one of the records he wanted to break, the highest-grossing actor of all time.
— Michel, open another bottle and let's cook or when Natalie arrives there will be nothing but tap water.
....
Notes:
1. Hello. Greetings and thanks to everyone who has commented, left their power stones, or simply read the story.
2. Don't forget to leave your comments with your opinions and impressions. Also with your suggestions for the stories I could take into account.
3. I take this opportunity since I already saw several comments about Greta (who until now remains as a friend and nothing more) to ask you to leave your recommendations for female leads (whether they enter the small Harem or not) and to know what your preferences are although clearly I already have my own favorites.