"Mr. Ashwood, I understand this is your passion project," Tony said, his voice steady and persuasive. "But you can't juggle directing, producing, and acting all at once. Even if you've done it before, one misstep in directing or production could dim the film's glory. With us, you'll have 100 percent creative freedom. Trust me, this film will win Oscars, and we'll cover any budget you need."
Colt Ashwood leaned back, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. After a moment, he said, "The estimated budget's around $14 million. Can you handle that?"
"We can, Mr. Ashwood," Tony replied confidently. "Does that mean you're in? We'll also handle marketing and distribution, ensuring a release on at least 2,000 screens. If we fall short by even one screen, the film's production rights revert to you, and I won't take a cent."
Ashwood considered this, impressed by the bold guarantee. "Alright, but my fee for acting and directing is $3 million, and I need pre-production costs and the main cast's salaries paid upfront."
"Done," Tony said without hesitation. "Seven million will be transferred within five days." The company registrations should be finalized by the day after tomorrow, he thought, recalling the $3,000 bribe he'd paid to expedite ChronosVantage Investments' setup. Harry's registration of SilverScreen Odyssey should also be complete, thanks to his connections.
"Deal," Ashwood said, extending his hand. Tony shook it firmly, sealing the agreement.
"Day after tomorrow, let's draft the contract," Ashwood added. "I've finalized the cast. Bring a lawyer, and we can settle their contracts too."
"Agreed," Tony said, nodding.
They exchanged contact details, and Ashwood called in his secretary to prepare the contract as Tony and Elizabeth left. Outside, they climbed into the waiting taxi. Tony turned to Elizabeth, a grin tugging at his lips. "So, Ms. Foster, ready to work with me?"
Elizabeth met his gaze, her blue eyes sharp but playful. "What's the pay, Mr. Stark?" she asked, handing him her C.V.
Tony scanned it, noting her minor in Business Studies and her orphan background from her schooling details. "I like your fierceness, Ms. Foster. Four hundred grand for the first year, serving as both CEO and CFO. Starting next year, you'll get ten percent of the profits, no fixed salary. And since you're my first employee, just call me Tony."
Elizabeth's lips curved into a shy smile, her cheeks flushing. "Okay, To—Tony. You can call me Elizabeth." Her voice softened, the first time she'd used a man's first name, a small but significant step for her.
Tony laughed, the sound warm and easy, as they settled into the taxi. They returned to San Francisco and then New York. It was nearly 1:30 a.m.
Tony pulled out his Motorola and called home, asking Olivia to pick him up. He glanced at Elizabeth. "Why don't you crash at my place tonight? The Bronx isn't safe at this hour."
Elizabeth hesitated, then nodded. "Alright, that makes sense."
At 2:30 a.m., Olivia pulled up in a Corolla, catching Tony off guard—he'd expected the Mustang. He slid into the front seat, while Elizabeth took the back. Olivia wore a smug smile, her eyes glinting with something Tony couldn't place. Elizabeth, meanwhile, shot Olivia a fleeting look of annoyance.
The drive was smooth, the city's late-night hum filling the silence. At home, Tony led them inside, loosening his tie and rolling up his shirt sleeves for comfort. He set his gold wristwatch in a drawer beneath the television and turned to Elizabeth. "You can sleep in my room. Olivia will show you the way."
"Thank you, Tony," Elizabeth said, smiling warmly, though a flicker of irritation crossed Olivia's eyes.
"Follow me," Olivia said, her tone clipped, leading Elizabeth upstairs.