The First Job

As she walked past the entrance to 20th Century Fox with her bag in hand, she spotted a young man in a black suit standing by the roadside. His hair was a little disheveled, and he had a cigarette in his hand. He kept spewing one profanity after another, making her frown.

Irene had planned to hurry away before he could pollute her ears any further, but then she heard Shelly Ovitz's name during his conversation.

She thought about the call she hadn't been able to get through last night and decided to wait until he was off the phone to ask what was going on.

Shelly Ovitz hadn't slept all night because one of his actors had gotten into trouble. Then, that morning, he'd been chewed out by the higher-ups at 20th Century Fox. He was in a foul mood.

Even with a beautiful woman standing right in front of him, he had no interest in entertaining her. His reply was perfunctory. "I don't accept résumés here. If you want to sign with us, go to the front desk at the company."

Irene looked puzzled. She took a deep breath and patiently said, "Hello, I'm Irene Coppola. I just heard you mention Shelly Ovitz's name. I happen to need to speak with him, but I can't get through to him on the phone. Is there another way I could contact him?"

"Irene Coppola?" The name sounded familiar. Shelly tossed his cigarette aside and ground it underfoot, then looked her up and down. She had a brown ponytail, a bare face, and a white dress, and she was holding the latest Louis Vuitton bag. She had potential, at least looks-wise. Had one of his clients referred a young actress to him?

"Sir?" Irene prompted him again when he didn't answer.

He casually ran a hand through his hair and nodded. "I'm Shelly Ovitz. I just finished taking care of something, so I have some time now. Shall we talk at the café next door?" Then he headed straight over.

Irene hesitated. His behavior just now didn't match her idea of what an agent should be like, but she didn't have any better options at the moment. She decided to give him one more chance and hurried after him.

They entered the café. Since it was close to the Fox Building, it was packed with people in the entertainment business. The tables were spaced comfortably apart and screened by potted plants, making it hard to eavesdrop on conversations. It was an ideal place for a private discussion.

Shelly Ovitz casually chose a window seat. While they waited for the server, he'd already made up his mind. He didn't have any presentable actresses on his roster, so if this woman was obedient enough, he could consider giving her a boost.

When they ordered, Irene asked for a cappuccino, while he ordered an iced Americano with a double shot of espresso.

"I need something strong to wake up my brain," Shelly Ovitz said.

"What happened, if you don't mind me asking?" Irene shrugged, inviting him to share something that would help her get to know him.

"It's nothing I can't talk about. One of my young actors was reported by a rival last night for doing drugs on set. I spent the whole night dealing with the fallout. I'm at the Fox Building now to see if there's any way to turn things around." Shelly Ovitz's voice was full of sarcasm and indifference. He had clearly already decided to give up on the actor.

"You didn't sleep all night? What kind of set is so strict? I thought this sort of thing was pretty common in Hollywood."

"It is, as long as it doesn't interfere with work. But he stupidly thought that having appeared in Titanic meant he could do whatever he wanted." Their drinks arrived, and he downed more than half of his in one gulp. Irene could practically feel the bitterness shooting straight into her brain, making her scalp tingle.

"So even a big ship can't cover up everything. Is he out?"

"No. A big ship can, but only if you're Leonardo DiCaprio. Then someone will cover for you.

"He was just a minor supporting actor with a line or two—completely expendable. Hollywood is crawling with people like him. If you get a little success and start acting like you're above everyone, without knowing how to keep your head down, you'll never get anywhere. I'm not wasting any more energy on an idiot like that. It'd only make me look like an idiot too." He finished the iced Americano, which was practically poison, without so much as a change of expression. The words he spoke were even more toxic.

"Let's stop talking about that poor kid whose future is already so easy to predict. Tell me about you. Did you bring a résumé? Do you have any acting experience? You look all right, but CAA doesn't sign just anyone. And you don't quite fit the mainstream look right now. You might need some work done."

Irene was speechless at his words again. She clenched her back teeth and forced herself to be patient. "I'm not an actress here to sign with you. Let me introduce myself again. My name is Irene Coppola, and I'm going to become a director."

"A director? You?"

Irene even heard the mocking laugh that escaped his lips.

"I thought that a well-known CAA agent like Mr. Ovitz would know how to spell 'respect,' but apparently I overestimated you. Since you have no interest in working with me, I'll tell my father why when I get back and ask Mr. Michael Ovitz to recommend someone else."

She wouldn't let one individual like Shelly Ovitz put her off CAA as a whole. If he wouldn't work, she could find someone else. Maybe she'd try a female agent next time.

After she finished speaking, Irene stood up to leave.

Only when Shelly Ovitz heard his uncle's name did he realize that the woman in front of him wasn't just another "newcomer" off the street hoping to break into Hollywood.

"Wait, Miss Coppola, right? I remember now. I got it wrong. My uncle told me about you. Sorry—my brain might have shut down after a sleepless night. What exactly did you want to discuss with me, miss?"

Shelly shook his head hard, rummaging through the fog in his mind for what he knew about the Coppola family. Only then did he truly realize who was sitting across from him.

"Mr. Ovitz finally remembers who I am?" Irene stopped mid-step.

"Oh, right, yes, yes. The younger daughter of director Coppola. So what did you want to talk to me about?"

"I want to shoot a music video for Jive Records, but I don't know anyone at the music company. I wanted to ask if you could help introduce me to someone."

By every measure, he wasn't someone she'd normally choose to associate with. But if he could solve her problem, she could put up with him.

"Oh? Forgive me for being blunt, but apart from your last name, 'Coppola,' do you have any other work to your name?" Shelly Ovitz couldn't understand where she got her confidence.

Irene wasn't offended. He was telling the truth. So far, she had no work to her name—not even a test reel.

"If I did, I'd go straight to them myself. I wouldn't need you, would I? Isn't an agent's job to solve problems for clients and make things happen out of nothing?"

"Haha, well said. So what's the reason? I do know people at Jive, but I can't just bring some random person over and say she wants to shoot their music video."

"I have a friend named Britney who's about to debut. I want to shoot her debut music video."

Shelly Ovitz searched his exhausted mind. "Britney, right? I've heard of her. I hear Jive has high hopes for her. But what does that have to do with you? You're not planning to sabotage her debut by using the music video as an excuse, are you?"

There were far more fake friends than true friends in Hollywood, especially among girls this age, who were more easily led by impulse. Rather than believing the woman in front of him was doing this out of friendship, he suspected she wanted to wreck Britney's debut.

Irene shook her head. "Mr. Ovitz, I'm not the sort of person who'd hurt someone else without benefiting myself. The only reason I'd wreck someone's career would be if I could take their place, and I know nothing about music. Besides, Brit is my best friend."

"Tell me your reasons and your real motive. Don't brush me off with 'best friend.'"

"It's simple: I know Britney is going to be a huge hit. The market is missing a young, confident, attractive, distinctive, talented female teen idol—and she's the perfect person for the job. I'm certain her arrival will make waves."

Shelly raised an eyebrow. She was so excited, you'd think she was the one about to debut. Did the two of them really have some special bond?

"And then?"

"I can use this chance to make a high-quality music video for her and ride the wave to build my own name."

"You're that sure she'll be a hit? And that your music video will become a hit along with her?" Shelly couldn't understand where she got such confidence.

Irene didn't explain further—she couldn't exactly tell him she knew how Hollywood would develop over the next two or three decades.

"This is just the beginning. My real 'backup plan' is here." She took a notebook from her bag. Inside was a rough script she'd put together after watching Legally Blonde over and over last night.

This was her real goal.

Shelly Ovitz took it and opened to the first page, reading carefully. Irene stirred her coffee at an unhurried pace and waited patiently.

Her gaze drifted out the window. The enormous success of Titanic had pulled 20th Century Fox back from the brink of bankruptcy.

People streamed along the street, including several actors Irene recognized. Almost all the ones she could name had appeared in blockbuster hits.

Analyzing scripts was a basic skill for a CAA agent. Shelly needed less than ten minutes to finish reading the outline for Legally Blonde.

"This is a pretty good script. It's not complete yet, but the characters are vivid, and the story is lighthearted without being clichéd. If you're telling me you put this together yourself, then I really did underestimate you."

"There's no need to doubt it. I wrote it myself," Irene said with confidence.

"I see your plan now: use the music video as a stepping stone to build your reputation, draw attention from young fans by tapping into the excitement around teen idols, then use this script to make your official entry into Hollywood. To be honest, when I was your age, I didn't have such a clear plan."

"Thank you for the compliment. I take it you'll help me with this little problem, Mr. Ovitz?" Irene was confident in Legally Blonde. Not many teen comedies had grossed over a hundred million dollars at the North American box office.

"I'll do my best." Shelly gave Irene his trademark fake smile.

Irene drained the rest of her coffee. "I won't keep you from your work, Mr. Ovitz. I hope to hear good news from you soon." With that, she turned and left.