[Chapter 335: Early Morning]
Because of last night's party, Eric gave the crew an impromptu day off, moving their usual rest day to today. The entire crew had celebrated hard the night before and had been busy for days, so even though it was already late, not many people were getting out of bed.
Joanna Pacula stood hesitantly at Eric's door with breakfast in one hand and a stack of newspapers in the other. It was already 8:30, and although they hadn't spent much time together, Joanna was quite familiar with Eric's routines. Typically, he would be up by now.
But this was usually the case. Last night, Drew, that little girl, had gone back to the room with Eric; who knew how late those two would stay up?
Thinking of some scenes, Joanna felt herself blush slightly, even though she had only given Eric a tie as a gift yesterday. Still, she didn't harbor the kind of ambitions other women had. After all these years, she had come to terms with many realities or perhaps had just given up on certain things. Now, all she wanted was to live a relatively stable life, no longer wandering without purpose.
To outsiders, the acting profession always seemed to promise wealth and fame, but the reality was far from the glamorous image people imagined. Just in Hollywood, there were over a hundred thousand registered union actors, with countless others on the fringes, who didn't even have the qualifications to join the union.
Yet, within this vast group, only a handful of A-listers could lead glamorous lives. As long as they managed to land a role in a film each year, they could live comfortably.
For those below the third tier, the situation was considerably more difficult. Not discussing the truly obscure actors, even third-tier performers usually only landed supporting roles. In big-budget films, many supporting roles paid less than one percent of what the lead actors made. While the leads earned millions, supporting roles sometimes only brought in tens of thousands, and that was for the more legitimate productions. In independent films, even the leads often made just that -- tens of thousands.
Joanna was originally in that tier of actors and often found herself in a perpetual state of stagnation when it came to her career.
...
"Good morning, Ms. Pacula," a sudden voice interrupted her thoughts as a lighting technician from the crew stepped out of a nearby room and spotted Joanna at Eric's door, casually greeting her.
"Oh, Mr. Lawrence, good morning," Joanna quickly returned the greeting, hoping he wouldn't notice her awkwardness. She fumbled for the keycard to Eric's room from her pocket and opened the door, walking in.
Once the door closed behind her, Joanna sighed in relief. The room was quiet, with various packing boxes scattered around the living room.
She glanced at the closed bedroom door, thinking Eric must still be asleep, and quietly placed her things on the coffee table. Bending down, she took the initiative to tidy up the mess.
Just as she was stacking some colorful wrapping paper, she heard the sound of a door opening from the balcony. She looked up to see Eric, bare-chested and wearing only a pair of shorts, wiping his brow with a towel after exercising.
"Hey, Jo, good morning," Eric said as he greeted her.
"Morning, Eric," Joanna quickly replied, standing up.
She knew there was a treadmill on the balcony that Eric had requested the hotel set up on the day he checked in. Looking at him, it was clear he had just finished working out, but...
Glancing at the bedroom door, she felt a bit surprised. Given what she knew about Eric, he had spent the night with Drew; there was no way they hadn't done anything. She hadn't expected Eric to get up early for a workout.
Seeing where Joanna's gaze lingered, Eric quickly guessed her thoughts and asked with a grin, "What are you thinking about?"
"Nothing, nothing," Joanna shook her head. "By the way, I've got breakfast ready, as well as today's newspapers."
Instead of moving toward the coffee table where the breakfast was laid out, Eric walked directly over to Joanna and pulled her close, teasingly saying, "I'm in the mood for something else."
The strong masculine scent after his workout made Joanna dizzy, and as Eric's movements grew more intense, her breathing became quickened.
"Right now? It's morning, and you... you were with Drew last night..." Joanna stammered, her hands pressing against Eric's chest.
Eric didn't explain what had happened the night before. Instead, he lifted her up, heading straight for the bathroom.
Though the bathroom door clicked shut, Joanna's unsettled voice came through almost immediately, "Don't do this; my clothes, how am I supposed to get out later?"
"Alright, just lean over the sink. Mmm, just like that."
Her breath quickened, even more, "Can I at least..."
"Clothes are more exciting," he teased back.
A sigh escaped her, soon interrupted.
"Go ahead and cry out. Drew's sound asleep; she won't hear."
"Eric, I -- I think this is inappropriate," Joanna managed to say, her words fragmentary.
Eric didn't respond further; he was lost in a moment of pleasure.
...
In the bedroom, Drew, who wasn't sleeping very soundly, turned over, kicking off her blanket. Feeling the cool air on her chest, she groaned slightly and waved her hands in a feeble search for something before reluctantly opening her eyes. Eric was no longer beside her.
Muttering to herself, she grabbed Eric's pillow and sniffed it like a puppy, making a few small sounds as she attempted to return to sleep. A distant voice kept pulling at her, the sound of a woman.
The alert young lady soon sat up, her eyes wide open, straining to listen. Though the voice was faint, she was certain it wasn't her imagination.
She jumped out of bed, quickly throwing on one of Eric's oversized t-shirts, and padded barefoot out of the bedroom. The noises became clearer as she approached the living room.
Creeping to the bathroom door to eavesdrop for a moment, Drew pieced together who the woman was.
"How shameless," she muttered angrily to herself, gripping the doorknob, hesitating for a moment before pulling her hand back. Tugging at the wide collar of her t-shirt, she glanced down at her chest with a sigh weighing on her. She decided to sit cross-legged on the couch and open the food box on the coffee table, intending to finish all of breakfast to show her dissatisfaction.
*****
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