Chapter 145: Praising and Belittling

As soon as he entered the bar, Duke noticed the woman sitting alone diagonally across the room. She had clear, melancholic, and mesmerizing hazel eyes. Her curly dark brown hair cascaded over the shoulders of a grey V-neck cardigan. With her strikingly delicate features and slender, sexy physique, she was incredibly eye-catching even while just sitting there.

Though she wore only light makeup and looked slightly different from her on-screen persona—and her fame in North America didn't even match a second-tier Hollywood actress's—Duke still recognized her at a glance. After all, the Braveheart crew was staying at a hotel near this very bar.

"Is that her?" Zack Snyder suddenly asked.

"You interested?" Duke raised an eyebrow at his assistant director. "I always thought you were into men."

Zack Snyder nearly spat out his drink. Eyes wide, he said, "Duke, that's slander!"

He turned to look over there again, then reluctantly wrenched his gaze back. "Why is this a movie with no important female roles?"

Duke knew his own team members were no angels either. Within their authority—and as long as they didn't cross his bottom line—they had pulled plenty of strings to get certain women screen time in the film. But that was simply the nature of the industry. Expecting people to bust their asses for you without perks in return was a pipe dream, not just in a pragmatic place like Hollywood, but anywhere in the global business world. As long as they kept it reasonable, he wouldn't interfere.

"Are you that interested in her?"

Sofia Coppola returned from the restroom and sat down next to Duke. Zack Snyder took a sip from his glass and said, "I don't think there are many men who wouldn't be interested in Sophie Marceau!"

"You could go give it a try," Sofia egged him on. "I spent some time in France. I heard that, like most French women, she's always been romantic and uninhibited."

"Zack, you're too late. Someone's heading over." Sofia signaled to the two men with her eyes. "An acquaintance, too."

Even with his greying hair and balding head, the man walking over possessed an incredibly charming presence, thanks to his robust physique and impeccably trimmed beard. In the sixty-to-seventy demographic, he easily ranked among the most handsome older men around.

A sharp glint flashed through Duke's eyes at the sight of Sean Connery, though he quickly masked it. While there was no hard evidence, the vicious backlash from critics against Independence Day wasn't exactly unconnected to the man.

"Zack, aren't you going over?" Duke asked.

"Compared to Sean Connery, my charm..." Zack Snyder shrugged. "Better leave it to you, Duke. Don't let our enemy snatch the beauty away."

"You two are ridiculous," Sofia mocked without hesitation.

"Don't you think this is a great way to relax?"

Leaving her with that, Duke stood up and headed diagonally across the room without hesitation. To his surprise, however, Sophie Marceau looked visibly agitated the moment Sean Connery sat down at her table. She clearly didn't welcome the intrusion.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Connery, but I'd like some quiet time alone."

As he got closer, Duke heard the two of them conversing.

"Sophie, I just wanted to exchange some thoughts on the role with you."

"We're off the clock right now, and our characters don't even share any scenes..."

"Don't be like that, Sophie. Haven't you always wanted to break into Hollywood? I can help you!"

Sophie Marceau then spotted Duke approaching, a questioning look crossing her face. Sean Connery, whose back was turned to Duke, was still rambling on about something...

Duke offered Sophie Marceau a friendly smile, walked around the table, pulled out a chair, and sat directly beside her.

"Darling, your charm is incredible. I only went to the restroom for a second..."

His eyes were fixed entirely on Sophie Marceau, not even sparing a glance for the suddenly stunned Sean Connery. "Do you need me to chase him away?"

Sophie Marceau looked at the amicable Duke, then at the hostile Sean Connery across from her. She said nothing, but instead began to laugh.

"Duke Rosenberg!" Sean Connery practically squeezed the words out through his teeth.

"Hey, Sean. It's been a while."

Perhaps due to his frequent discussions about characters with Tom Hanks over the past few days, Duke felt his own acting skills had noticeably improved. Without so much as a shift in expression, he said, "I didn't expect you to walk out of that media maelstrom so quickly. I'm truly happy for you."

There was no hint of sarcasm in his tone, yet Sean Connery's face turned even uglier. "Everyone has their streaks of bad luck. Most people in Hollywood love watching arrogant pricks fall from grace."

"That's very true." Duke wore a look of complete agreement. "When Fox Television parked their broadcast vans right outside your house, it was simply going too far!"

Sean Connery's hand resting on the table slowly balled into a fist, the veins popping out on the back of his wizened hand...

Turning his head, Duke met Sean Connery's gaze, his own eyes gradually growing cold. The man had played a few elderly heroes on the silver screen, but surely he wasn't senile enough to think he was one in reality?

Though impulsive, Sean Connery was by no means senile. He shot a cold glare at Sophie Marceau, then stood up and walked away.

"Will he cause trouble for you with the crew?"

Judging purely by his tone and expression, Duke truly cared about the French beauty beside him. "He still has some influence."

"It's fine," Sophie Marceau said, shaking her head. She clearly didn't care much about Sean Connery.

The Sean Connery of today was, after all, no longer the Sean Connery of a few years ago. His status within the crew couldn't necessarily match that of the female lead.

"Let's reintroduce ourselves." Duke held out his hand. "Duke Rosenberg. You can call me Duke."

She lightly shook his hand. "Sophie Marceau."

Seeing the two of them drinking and chatting diagonally across the room, Zack Snyder sighed, drained his glass, and shook his head helplessly.

"They sure got acquainted quickly."

"Hasn't he always been like this?" Sofia pulled back her gaze and slowly sipped her cocktail. "He knows how to leverage his own advantages."

"That's true," Zack Snyder agreed. "A successful director has the capital to attract any actress."

Sofia added, "Especially a successful director like him who also happens to have a handsome face."

"Looks like I need to step up my game, too," Zack Snyder said, sounding thoughtful.

"Let's head back to the hotel." Sofia Coppola picked up her purse and stood up. "There's no point waiting around for Duke."

Back on the other side, Duke and Sophie Marceau seemed to be having a pleasant chat. In reality, aside from film, they couldn't find any common ground. And even when talking about movies, their philosophies were worlds apart.

Duke's deepest impression of Sophie Marceau was that of a typical French woman: bold, uninhibited, and unafraid to bare it all on screen.

Then again, if they weren't stripping down and baring it all, it wouldn't be European cinema, nor would they be European movie stars.

"Even though my agent urged me to take this French princess role," Sophie Marceau said, drinking down nearly a third of the whiskey in her glass, "I didn't want to accept it at first."

"Because it's an eye-candy role?" Duke probed.

"That's part of it. The other reason is my family!"

Hearing her words, Duke was a bit surprised. He blinked. "Your family?"

"You didn't know?" Sophie Marceau narrowed her eyes, revealing an inexplicable smile. "I have a husband. I'm already married."

"This is the first I'm hearing that you're married."

Although he had read online about her uninhibited personality and rich romantic history, Duke genuinely hadn't known she had married so early. "Your husband must be the envy of every man in Europe."

Sophie Marceau looked at him, seemingly not understanding his meaning.

Duke laughed and explained, "Wouldn't any man who managed to marry Sophie Marceau make the rest envious?"

Although this kind of flattery required little skill, Sophie Marceau still laughed, though a hint of melancholy lurked in her smile. "Some people don't see it that way."

She raised her glass and downed the rest of her whiskey in one gulp. Driven by the buzz of the alcohol, she added, "Marriage sometimes isn't as happy as it seems."

"I absolutely agree with that!"

Waving for a waiter to bring over two drinks, Duke handed one to Sophie Marceau and clinked glasses with her. "That's exactly why I've never even thought about stepping into the prison of marriage."

In the past, he had been a bachelor with no ties. During his first few years in North America, he had witnessed his mother's failed marriage. Coupled with entering an industry with the highest divorce rate in the world, it was indeed difficult for him to muster any thoughts of getting married.

Marriage wasn't as simple as just registering; it also meant responsibility. Before getting married, he could chase beautiful women all he wanted, and no one could say a thing. Once married, however, things would be completely different.

Then again, taking a broad look at the entertainment industries in both Europe and North America, continuing to screw around after getting married was practically the norm.

"Enough about these depressing things. Let's drink!"

Raising his glass, Duke took a small sip of whiskey. Beside him, Sophie Marceau tipped her head back and downed half a glass of whiskey. "Cheers!"

Duke simply had the waiter bring over a whole bottle of liquor and poured some into both glasses.

After downing another glass, Sophie Marceau had perhaps drunk a bit too quickly. Covering her mouth, she coughed softly. She waved off the tissue Duke offered and touched her own smooth cheek. Flushed with intoxication, she looked at Duke with sudden vigilance.

"Are you trying to get me drunk?"

Spreading his hands, Duke shook his head with an innocent expression. Given his alcohol tolerance, he'd probably end up under the table before he ever managed to get Sophie Marceau drunk.

"Don't think I can't see right through you."

Perhaps because they were getting more familiar, Sophie Marceau's words were no longer as guarded. "Men who hit on me and try to butter me up only ever have one goal in mind! What about you, Duke?"

"There isn't a man alive who doesn't like Sophie Marceau!" Duke stared intensely at her.