I am Hollywood

[Chapter 864: Another Butterfly Effect]

After chatting for a while and listening to Larry Ellison eloquently describe the bright future following the acquisition of Apple, Eric suddenly thought of another matter. "Larry, there seems to be a very important question here. You want to hand over the management of Apple to Steve, but has he agreed to that?"

Larry Ellison paused, looking puzzled. "Of course, Steve would agree. Why wouldn't he?"

Eric shrugged. "As Steve's friend, you know his personality better than I do. I happen to know about his house in Woodside. I think Steve might prefer to see Apple disappear, just like that house."

Eric had accidentally heard about the quirks surrounding Jobs' house in Woodside, and it perfectly reflected the more obsessive and callous side of Jobs' character.

After becoming a billionaire from founding Apple, Jobs bought a mansion in Woodside. He was dissatisfied with the style of the villa in his mansion and wanted to tear it down and rebuild it. However, since that villa, built in the late 19th century, was considered to hold significant historical value by the Woodside government, Jobs' demolition request was denied. So, Jobs took a very extreme approach; he opened all the doors and windows of the house, completely neglecting it to endure the elements without any maintenance. Years later, the dilapidated villa was declared as being in disrepair, allowing Jobs to have his way.

Larry Ellison clearly knew about this matter as well. He immediately shook his head and replied, "Eric, that's a completely different issue. I know Steve. No one cares more about Apple than he does. Once I buy this company, he will definitely return."

"Well, if you can get a definite answer from Jobs, maybe I can consider putting up some money," Eric said.

If Firefly Electronics had no strong competitors, it would inevitably lead to a sense of complacency. Or, it could be seen as letting a dog chase a rabbit. Under the circumstances where Firefly Electronics had the upper hand, Eric was looking forward to seeing if Jobs could still whip up something world-changing.

Although Eric's promise was encouraging, Larry Ellison was still impatient, asking, "Eric, how much could you put up?"

The funds for Firefly Group and Firefly Investment were already earmarked for specific purposes. Eric recalled the $300 million investment in the Southeast Asia foreign exchange market and said, "I happen to have that amount. I plan to buy a Boeing 777 soon, so there will still be some left over."

Larry Ellison, clearly familiar with private jets, quickly responded, "Eric, you seem to be mistaken. If you place the order now, you only need to pay a deposit. The full payment is due when the plane is delivered in two to three years. So, you should have at least $300 million, right?"

Eric had forgotten that detail; private jets were not like luxury cars, which could be picked up immediately. Large Boeing aircraft required several years for delivery after placing the order.

"Well then," Eric clarified, "maybe by that time, I could have around $600 million."

"Wow!"

Larry Ellison exclaimed, looking up and down at Eric with a gaze reminiscent of someone who had not dealt with a mega-wealthy individual for years.

Despite being worth billions, Larry often found himself with only tens of millions of dollars at his disposal. He initially thought that Forbes had overestimated Eric's fortune this year, but at that moment, he couldn't help but dismiss his doubts. Perhaps only Eric Williams could casually come up with $600 million in cash.

However, Eric dampened Larry's enthusiasm a bit and said, "But, Larry, I definitely won't be putting all of that money into Apple."

Larry Ellison nodded immediately, realizing that his original thought was simply to leverage Eric's sharp investment vision in the IT field as a gimmick. If he could pull in some symbolic cash from Eric, it would make it much easier to raise funds from other investment firms under the banner of Eric's name. Larry never expected to gather $600 million all at once.

"Then, Eric, as long as you're willing to put in $300 million, I promise to gather all the funds within three months." Originally, he hoped for $50 million or even less; otherwise, Eric's influence wouldn't work as effectively. But at that point, he naturally raised the amount in hopes that the more Eric invested, the higher the likelihood other investment firms would follow.

Since he had decided to participate, Eric certainly didn't want to be a minor shareholder. Apple's current market valuation was $2 billion, and initiating a full acquisition would require a premium. However, $300 million would ensure that Eric's share would remain above 10%.

"Alright, $300 million it is," Eric nodded and added, "And don't forget the condition I mentioned earlier. If Jobs isn't willing to come back, then we'll just forget about this."

"Of course," Larry Ellison said, grinning and raising his glass toward Eric. "Then let's toast to our success in advance."

Eric smiled as they clinked glasses. He watched Larry down his drink in one go, while he took only a small sip in agreement.

After putting down his empty glass, Larry Ellison shifted topics. "Eric, how about we hit the casino for a while?"

Eric pointed to two girls on the dance floor. "Let's skip it this time."

Larry Ellison turned to glance at the girls and replied, "No worries, bring them along. I'm pretty sure no one will block you, the world's richest man, at the door."

Noticing Eric's gesture, Miranda and Christina thought he was summoning them. They immediately stopped dancing and came over, and Larry's partner followed closely behind.

Eric wrapped his arm around Christina's waist and jokingly said, "Actually, Larry, I'm quite afraid of losing, so I try to avoid places like casinos."

"Ha ha, alright then. Anouck and I will go play," Larry Ellison made a phone gesture, wrapping his arm around his partner. "If anything comes up, just call me."

...

Both had each other's contact information already, and Eric nodded with a smile. After watching Larry leave, he shifted his gaze back to find Miranda perched on a high bar stool near the bar, expertly signalling the bartender for a cocktail. The bartender glanced at her, then at Eric, and without saying a word, quickly prepared and delivered a drink.

Seeing Eric watching her, Miranda took a small sip from her glass, smacked her lips, and then pushed the cup toward him, cheerfully saying, "Eric, actually, I ordered this for you!"

Eric ignored Miranda's defense. The girl's cheeks were already flushed, indicating she had had more than one drink. He glanced at his watch and noted that the magic show had ended at ten o'clock. After chatting with Larry for so long, the time was already close to eleven.

"It's almost eleven o'clock. Are you tired? Why don't we head back to rest?"

Christina seemed indifferent, but Miranda chimed in, "Eric, I want to check out the casino." The girl had evidently overheard Eric's conversation with Larry Ellison and added, "We just want to look, not gamble, okay?"

Eric firmly shook his head. "Not a chance."

Miranda pouted but quickly brightened up, mischievously sidling closer and shaking Eric's arm. "Eric, how about going to see a late-night show? I just heard them talking about it."

"What late-night show?" Eric asked instinctively, but soon realized and chuckled as he tapped Miranda on the head. "Is that something you're allowed to see?"

Miranda quickly shook her head. "No, no, it's not like that. I heard them say it's a stage play. I think it's called... called..."

Miranda tilted her head, forgetting the name for a moment before Christina interjected, "It's a story about Helen from the Trojan War."

Eric had not heard of that stage play before, thinking perhaps it was an exclusive to Caesars Palace, given that the hotel was themed with Greek and Roman styles. Seeing the two girls look curious and excited, Eric agreed and called the private concierge for his suite.

...

In less than five minutes, the private concierge appeared, leading Eric and the two girls away from the party and toward a more lavish small theater at Caesars Palace.

The performance was set to begin right at eleven. After arranging a box for the three of them and presenting some snacks and drinks, the forty-something private concierge quietly exited.

However, as soon as Eric sat down on the sofa in the box and glanced at the dazzling stage lights, he realized this was clearly still "that kind" of performance -- far more extravagant than a typical strip club.

The lights in the theater quickly dimmed.

After a brief introduction, music began to play, and as a group of elegantly dressed women appeared on stage wearing only skimpy outfits, Miranda and Christina, who had initially been looking forward to the "stage play," gasped in surprise.

Gazing at the dazzling scene on stage, Eric suddenly recalled a movie from memory, Paul Verhoeven's NC-17 rated Showgirls. However, the extravagant stage performances in that film could hardly compare to the lavish display unfolding at Caesars Palace.

It seemed that the original Showgirls had been filmed in 1995, but now in 1997, Eric had not heard any updates regarding the film. It appeared to be yet another consequence of the butterfly effect. After all, that film had nearly led to the bankruptcy of Carolco Pictures and truly no longer had any reason to exist.

Chuckling, Eric covered Miranda's eyes with his hand and said, "Alright, are you satisfied now?"

The girls' earlier gasps might have been merely an expression of natural female modesty. After all, if one didn't react in such a setting, they would surely seem out of place.

Pushing Eric's hand away, Miranda curiously examined the performance on stage. It was a royal court scene, the story indeed based on the Greek myth of the Trojan War. However, the scantily clad performers on stage clearly drew attention away from the plot.

After watching quietly for a while, Miranda finally leaned closer to Eric, her eyes still on the stage, exclaiming, "How on earth are there so many girls willing to perform stuff like this? It's just so... so..."

Miranda stammered, struggling to find suitable adjectives.

Eric pinched her cheek playfully and replied, "You think everyone lives like a princess like you?"

"Ha ha, I'm not a princess!" Miranda quickly laughed, snuggling up to Eric. "Eric, can I be your Helen?"

Eric chuckled and nodded. "Sure, but I may have more than one Helen by my side."

"Ugh, you're so annoying," Miranda pouted again. "Can't you at least soothe a girl a bit?"

"I'm more inclined to show it through actions."

"Oh," Miranda teased, drawing out her words and playfully grasping something on Eric, bursting into laughter again. "Ha ha, I just confirmed something."

Eric brushed Miranda's hand away, chuckling, "No messing around."

"Eric, no one can see us here."

"That's their problem. I'm just not used to behaving like this."

"Alright, alright," Miranda purred like a kitten, rubbing against Eric again before leaning closer to his ear and teasingly whispering, "I wonder how long you can hold out."

Eric did indeed manage to last through the one-hour performance. Aside from the two restless little troublemakers beside him, constantly provoking his impulses, as a normal man, he still found enjoyment in such a visually stimulating show.

As they left the theater, the clock had struck past midnight.

For a city like Las Vegas, where there was no night, midnight certainly didn't signify the end of the day. However, after enduring a four-hour drive in the afternoon and partying hard all night, Eric and the two girls were too fatigued to pursue any other entertainment options and instead returned to their suite at the Palace Tower for some rest.

...

The next day, they woke up at eight o'clock -- not because Eric was exceptionally diligent, but because he needed to fly to Maryland on the East Coast. He would have a solid four hours to catch up on sleep during the flight.

When Miranda and Christina saw Eric wake up, they too struggled out of bed, looking like two lazy and drowsy kittens. After breakfast, the two girls insisted on taking Eric to the airport.

*****

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