In the adjacent room with a terrace, Amy Pascal sat on a sofa surrounded by other women, enjoying the cool breeze from the Los Angeles hills. Amid laughter and teasing, she summarized, "It's just…we have this amazing connection, a meeting of minds, you know? He's incredibly experienced in life, funny, and we always have plenty to talk about. He's simply… the right one."
Janet, reclining on the sofa with a glass of red wine, looked at Amy with a mix of teasing and caution. "But, Amy, you two do have quite an age gap. And, well, how's his…uh, stamina?"
That was a little direct.
Amy gave Janet an embarrassed look, quickly shifting her gaze to Jennifer on Janet's other side. "Jennifer, what brings you out to a party tonight? Lately, people think Simon's locked you away at the villa, forcing you to do nothing but take care of kids and household chores."
Before Jennifer could answer, Janet jumped in. "No, no, that's not it. Actually, she's locked in the basement, starved and beaten daily. I just stole Simon's keys and snuck her out tonight."
Everyone laughed.
Including the two maids, Zoe and Isabelle, who were standing by, there were six women on the terrace. Alongside the two Jennifers and Amy, there was Nancy Breyer, a petite executive at Daenerys Entertainment; Sandra Bullock, who had known Simon for years and was close friends with him; and Willow Bay, Robert Iger's newly married second wife.
Willow Bay, in her early thirties, was a graceful, blonde former television host. Because of her close age to the others and Iger's connections, she was able to join this circle. Though many high-profile executives at the party had brought their spouses, most weren't close enough to join the women's group here. They exchanged pleasantries before moving on, except Willow, who was welcomed into the more exclusive group.
Having resigned from her role as Simon's assistant a few years ago, Jennifer had rarely been seen at social gatherings as she focused on her family. Tonight, her appearance with Simon and Jennifer had indeed surprised many.
Even though everyone knew about Simon's relationship with his former assistant, it was unusual to see them so openly together, making it almost like an acknowledgment of a "two wives" arrangement.
But it wasn't shocking for long. People in these circles were accustomed to those at the top living by their own rules, and Simon's relationships were an open secret. Even the tabloids had tired of reporting on the well-known arrangement.
Amidst the laughter, Jennifer nudged Janet and turned back to Amy. "Don't change the subject, Amy; we're talking about you."
Amy sighed, giving in. "It's just that—there's nothing more to tell." She shrugged. Everyone already knew about her pregnancy, so she shifted the topic again. "You've both come out tonight, but who's watching the kids? Is Sophie here?"
Jennifer shook her head. "No, Vinnie's watching them. She flew in from Australia for the weekend."
"Oh."
Amy nodded. She was familiar with Veronica, knowing Janet's sister was single but had a fondness for children.
Seeing that there wasn't much more to uncover with Amy, Janet turned her attention to the petite executive nearby. "Nancy, Amy's getting married soon. And what about you? That guy from Silicon Valley—what's his name—does he still send you flowers? I think there was also a board member from Knight Reed?"
Nancy Breyer had been watching the crowd below and took a sip of her wine, shaking her head. "Too busy making money for your husband to think about any of that."
"Oh, I get it," Janet teased with a wink. "You've secretly been in love with Simon all this time."
Nancy shot her a sidelong glance but didn't respond, returning her gaze to the view below.
At first, she had indeed felt a bit of an infatuation—after all, Simon was so dazzling and assertive. But as the Westeros empire expanded, he directed his attention elsewhere, and they saw each other less and less.
Time erodes many things.
Nancy always had suitors—whether Silicon Valley elites, Fortune 500 executives, or heirs from old-money families. But none of them had managed to capture her interest. Nancy, who had always been reserved about relationships due to her personal background and petite stature, had only ever opened her heart slightly to one person. However, since nothing further happened with him, no one else stood a chance.
Janet didn't push her further, and they continued chatting about topics women often discussed among friends—fashion, beauty, fitness, travel, and lighthearted gossip.
"China's landscapes are breathtaking," Janet said, "but it's not just the scenery; there's a cultural depth that goes back thousands of years. Take a famous mountain, for instance—in the West, it's just a mountain, but in China, it's often woven into legends, stories, and ancient poetry. So, Amy, when you and Bernard go on your honeymoon in September, I'd suggest taking some time to visit China. I'll personally arrange for a top guide for you."
"Sounds great," Amy agreed, then casually added, "I heard Simon put together a Chinese dance troupe?"
Janet narrowed her eyes slightly. "You want to see it?"
Amy shrugged with a smile. "Just a little curious."
Amy's question piqued the interest of the others. Even though the "National Style Art Troupe" hadn't made headlines, the rumors about it ran wild, suggesting it was another of Simon's indulgences.
Janet said, "Simon's planning to have the troupe go on tour at the end of the year. They're currently working on the choreography. If you're all that curious, I'll have them come over tomorrow and perform right here on the cliffside terrace."
Everyone was surprised to hear that Simon intended for the troupe to go on a public tour. They had assumed it was solely for private entertainment.
But the allure was undeniable.
Amy suggested, "How about hosting it at the employee center stage in the Malibu Studios? It'll have a better setup, and tomorrow's Sunday."
Janet nodded. "Sure."
Sandra interjected, "Shouldn't you check with Simon first?"
Janet stretched, twisting into a new position on the sofa with the flexibility from her yoga practice, and replied, "I'm not asking him."
Amy raised her eyebrows playfully. "Now that sounds like trouble."
Sandra added with a grin, "Did you two fight?"
Janet lifted her chin slightly, queen-like as she glanced at Sandra. "Don't get your hopes up, little Sandy."
Sandra laughed. "I'm in no rush—I'm still young, after all."
And with that, a pillow flew in Sandra's direction.
Jennifer smiled, watching Janet's playful tantrum, knowing full well that the root of Janet's irritation was her stay-at-home sister, who always managed to make Janet seethe.
After a bit more banter, Janet, in her usual fiery fashion, instructed Isabelle to bring her phone, promptly dialing Angie Davis in New York to arrange for the troupe's girls to fly in the next day.
As the night wore on, guests began leaving, and the party gradually wound down. Simon didn't stay upstairs all evening discussing grand ideas with the other men; around nine, he came down to mingle.
However, he didn't head home with both Jennifers.
He had, after all, been "kicked out."
"Find somewhere else to stay tonight," Janet had quipped. "You're certainly not short on options."
In a cozy living room on the first floor, Simon was in conversation with the still-enthusiastic John Woo, discussing Face/Off. Kate Beckinsale sat beside him, with Rachel Weisz on her other side. After Janet left, the two finally managed to cozy up to Simon.
John Woo was sitting respectfully in a nearby armchair.
"You might have heard, Woo, that James' Titanic is postponed yet again. To be safe, we've moved it to next year's end. I'd like Face/Off to fill the open slot, but it means you'll need to speed up production. Do you foresee any issues?"
From his early Hollywood ventures like Hard Target to Broken Arrow and most recently Mission: Impossible 2, all of Woo's movies had been successes, with each one performing better at the box office than the last. This string of hits had elevated him to the rare status of a top-tier director in Hollywood—especially rare for an Asian director.
Hollywood is a practical place.
If you can make blockbuster films, you're treated like a god. Everything else, race included, is secondary. Despite already having a contract for his next project, Woo was still being courted by production studios everywhere.
However, in front of Simon, Woo showed none of the pride one might expect. "No issues at all, Simon. Actually, based on the pace I developed in Hong Kong, a year is more than enough."
"Perfect," Simon replied, pleased. He knew Hong Kong directors had a reputation for working at lightning speed. "That settles it. As for the lead role, after some thought, I'd like to cast Pitt. Let's not delay the decision any longer. With that in place, you can focus on the rest of the preparations."
Woo hesitated briefly but agreed.
It wasn't that he objected to Brad Pitt; in fact, the actor's intense charisma made him ideal for Castor's morally complex character. However, given Woo's recent success, he was starting to crave more creative control over casting and other critical decisions. Perhaps a collaboration with a different studio for
his next film would allow him more agency.
They wrapped up a few more details, and Woo got up to leave, noting the late hour.
Simon saw him to the villa's front door, checked his watch—it was past 11—and was about to say something to Kate and Rachel when a group of "mermaids" swarmed in.
Flanking Simon, Fernanda Lima and Heidi Klum gently nudged Kate aside. "Simon, are you leaving already? How about joining us at the Beverly Canyon villa you lent us? It's enormous, and there are only six of us—it's spooky being there alone."
These women were cunning.
They'd been watching for an opportunity ever since Janet left, realizing Simon might be open for the evening. Now was their chance.
With a laugh, Simon agreed, then turned to the visibly disappointed Kate. "Kate, Rachel, you should come along too. And fill me in on the filming of Good Will Hunting."
The two women stared at him, shocked.
Six plus two?
What was he thinking?
But whether out of a competitive spark in front of the six "mermaids" or some other feeling, they followed him into the car. Rachel made a small protest, but Kate quickly pulled her in. Fernanda and the others initially intended for Simon to ride with them in their limo, but he chose his own black Mercedes, with Kate and Rachel sitting on either side. The two women felt a small victory.
Beverly Canyon, west of Beverly Hills and bordering Bel Air, was only a short drive from Palisades along Sunset Boulevard, where they arrived in under half an hour.
This cliffside mansion dwarfed the one back at Palisades, and contrary to Fernanda's words, it was anything but lonely. A full staff awaited them, complete with Simon's security team settled in the guest house, and Zoe, who had arrived earlier to oversee preparations.
When the six women finally arrived in their limo, they didn't hesitate to swarm around Simon again.
Not letting herself be crowded out this time, Kate stood her ground and signaled Rachel to take up Simon's other side. Though Rachel felt uncomfortable with the situation, unsure why she was even here, she played along.
As they entered, Simon asked Kate, "Want a drink? No need to worry about getting too tipsy here."
Kate tilted her head. "Are you trying to get Rachel and me drunk, Simon?"
Simon chuckled. "I never do anything with drunk women. It's dull, and messy, and the smell—let's not even get started. I'd stay far away if you were drunk."
Kate scrunched her nose in disgust. "You just gave me an aversion."
"Though, a little drink before bed wouldn't hurt."
With that, they entered the villa.
Kate glanced toward the courtyard. "I'd like to swim."
She'd thought about it back at the Palisades, but couldn't quite muster the ease the "mermaids" had shown.
"No problem."
Simon turned to Zoe. "Can you get swimwear ready for Kate and Rachel?"
Rachel blinked. "I didn't say anything about swimming…"
The pool here was even larger than the one at Palisades. That villa sat on an acre of land; this place spanned at least three, with a massive heated outdoor pool blanketed in a light mist.
Approaching it, Simon took a seat on a lounge chair, wearing a robe over his swimsuit. He handed each of them a glass. "Try it—it's vodka. I hear it was only reserved for top Moscow officials back in the Soviet days."
Kate took her glass, not noticing the faint smile on Simon's lips, and took a sip. She immediately made a face, sticking out her tongue. "It burns! Simon, you're awful."
Rachel took a sip as well, almost coughing.
The group of mermaids swam over again, lining up along the pool's edge at Simon's feet.
Patiently, Simon handed each of them a glass, then turned back to Kate. "You're not used to it yet. Try it a few more times, and you'll get the hang of it."
The mermaids, also sipping the potent vodka, quickly began sticking out their tongues from the burn. The youngest, Angela, set her glass aside and asked, "Simon, why aren't you drinking?"
"Too strong. I'll stick to watching you."
The mermaids exchanged glances, then suddenly closed in together, pulling Simon into the pool with them.
Amid the laughter and steam rising from the pool, the water seemed to bubble with warmth.
Kate and Rachel exchanged glances, took off their robes, and slid into the pool a bit further away. The perfectly warm water immediately relaxed them. This heated pool was far more enjoyable than any hot tub.
Though…
The scene of Simon and the six "mermaids" playing together nearby made them blush and want to flee.
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