Jonathan Friedman and the others were still waiting for him at WMA headquarters that afternoon to discuss the female lead for Basic Instinct. After chatting briefly with Amy, Simon left the company building, with Jennifer following behind, clutching a stack of files as they got into the car.
As the SUV navigated the streets of Los Angeles, Jennifer handed Simon a meeting memo. "Dad had a conference call with SUN's executives this morning and confirmed his seat on the board. So far, we've secured board positions at 16 companies. Dad says there's a good chance with Apple and a few others—do you really not plan to join?"
Simon flipped through the memo in his hands.
SUN stood for Sun Microsystems Inc., a new tech company specializing in servers and workstations. The powerful Java language had been developed by this firm.
In Simon's memories, SUN's market cap had once soared past $200 billion at the peak of the dot-com bubble. After the bubble burst, the company declined rapidly due to various reasons and was eventually acquired by Oracle.
During last year's stock crash, Westeros Corporation had started bottom-fishing when SUN's market cap was around $850 million. Including recent small-scale increases, Simon had spent less than $45 million for 5% of the company's shares.
If history didn't change, those shares would be worth $10 billion at SUN's peak valuation.
However, SUN's potential returns clearly couldn't compare to Microsoft's.
Simon had bought 4.9% of Microsoft last year for just $56 million, and in the recent round of purchases, he'd unknowingly increased his holdings to 3 million shares—exactly 6% of Microsoft's current 50 million outstanding shares.
Based on Microsoft's peak market cap of $600 billion in 2000, that 6% alone would boost Simon's personal wealth by $36 billion.
Thus, both SUN and Microsoft were key targets for increased holdings in the coming years. Simon planned to raise his stakes in these companies to at least 10% or more.
In comparison, Simon wasn't as interested in Apple right now.
Last year, at Apple's lowest point with a market cap around $3 billion, he'd invested about $150 million for 4.9% of the shares—more than he'd spent on Microsoft and SUN combined, second only to the $250 million on Motorola and $170 million on Intel.
But according to his memories, after Apple's market cap broke $7 billion in the next few years, it would peak and then decline. Naturally, Simon had no intention of holding long-term.
Reading the memo, Simon responded to Jennifer's question. "Last time, I promised that joining a board meant no selling for three years. Westeros Corporation's current funds definitely can't support that for three years. So, we have to give up some board seats."
Jennifer nodded and brought up another matter. "Also, before the close today, New York bought 1.23 million shares of New World Entertainment at an average of $7.50, totaling about $9 million. New World Entertainment has 25 million shares outstanding—we're just under the 5% reporting threshold at 4.9%. After filing with the SEC next week, once the news goes public, the stock will surge. Dad plans to keep buying under $10, then make an acquisition offer to New World Entertainment."
Due to cash flow issues, New World Entertainment's stock was trading far below its actual value. In the acquisition plan Simon and James had discussed, they'd set a 50% premium cap on the final deal price.
"For that, just have your dad follow the plan. No need to tell me every detail."
Jennifer acknowledged, then handed over another thick folder. "And this is the airplane info you asked me to collect the other day. The prices listed are just the airlines' public quotes—in actual deals, buyers usually get some discount."
To accommodate his own work travel needs, as well as Amy's and James's, Simon had decided to buy a business jet first and instructed Jennifer to gather some materials.
Glancing out the window—they were still a ways from WMA headquarters—Simon opened the folder and asked Jennifer, "Any types you like? Once we buy it, it'll be for everyone to use."
Though the man beside her wasn't looking, Jennifer's gaze flickered evasively. "That... it's your decision, of course."
Simon smiled, eyeing the specs for the latest Gulfstream IV business jet. "Speaking of which, I still haven't properly thanked you for that videotape thing. If there's a type you like, we can go with your preference this time."
Hearing Simon's casual tone, Jennifer felt a twinge of dissatisfaction and couldn't help saying, "It'll still be yours after buying—no sincerity at all."
Simon glanced at Jennifer, noting she'd tied her hair up again today, exposing her fair neck. "If I put the plane's title in your name, would your dad think something's going on between us and beat me up?"
Feeling Simon's gaze, Jennifer shrank her neck and shook her head. "My dad wouldn't, but Ms. Johnston would—and I might get beaten too."
Simon pretended to hesitate, then shook his head. "Forget it then. Getting beaten for nothing wouldn't be worth it."
Jennifer's face flushed red, her mind flashing back to a certain scene.
Noticing Simon turn his attention to the materials, she raised a hand, carefully reaching back to untie the ribbon in her hair. Feeling it cascade down, she relaxed a bit.
Thinking he hadn't noticed, she was about to slip the ribbon into her bag when a voice reached her ear: "Now it doesn't look as good."
Oh god.
Resisting the urge to jump out of the car, Jennifer clutched her bag tightly, mustered her courage, and glared at Simon. "I'm not letting you look anyway."
Sensing the slight tremor in the girl's voice, Simon—though still puzzled—stopped teasing and focused on the airplane specs.
Thanks to lax aviation regulations, the private plane industry in the West was highly developed, and prices weren't exorbitant.
In the materials, the latest Gulfstream IV luxury business jet had a capacity for about 20 passengers, a cruising range nearing 8,000 kilometers, and an official price tag of just $16 million. As Jennifer had said, discounts were possible.
Of course, "cheap" was relative.
According to the latest media estimates, Simon's net worth of around $1.6 billion was enough to land him in the top 50 of this year's Forbes global billionaires list. Moreover, most of his assets were in easily liquidated stocks, which only added to the weight of his wealth.
In contrast, many billionaires with similar net worths might not be able to casually pull out $16 million in cash for a private plane.
Skipping the smaller business jet brands up front, Simon soon reached some models that interested him more.
Boeing 747-300, priced at $120 million.
That was Simon's ultimate goal.
The Boeing 747-400 was still in development, making the 747-300 the latest in Boeing's jumbo jet series. As for passenger capacity and range—if converted to a private plane, those specs hardly mattered. Fully fueled, it could connect any two points on Earth. With a fuselage six stories tall and 70 meters long, the interior space was ample enough for even a swimming pool.
However.
For now, Simon could only look. The $120 million price tag—nearly half what similar large jets would cost a decade later—was affordable, but he couldn't buy it yet.
It would be too ostentatious.
If Simon purchased one now, he'd be drowned in spit from the entire North American media.
Even if he didn't care, owning such a behemoth would bring headaches with parking and maintenance. At the root, it was a matter of foundation. If the Rockefeller family bought one, it might draw criticism, but most would see it as fitting.
As for Simon Westeros?
Well.
Nouveau riche.
The car stopped outside WMA headquarters on Camino Street. Simon had made a sensible decision: start with a Gulfstream IV. Compared to large Boeings, small jets had short delivery times—three months after ordering.
He entered WMA headquarters with Jennifer, where Jonathan Friedman, Brian De Palma, and the others were waiting.
In the past year or so, Simon had transformed dramatically, while WMA's internal turmoil continued unabated.
At the start of the new year, WMA vice president Ed Limato had jumped ship to ICM, taking clients like Mel Gibson, Steve Martin, Denzel Washington, and Michelle Pfeiffer. The move dealt another heavy blow to WMA.
In Simon's view, it was almost inevitable.
Control of WMA remained firmly in the hands of old-timers like Norman Broca. Ed Limato had little chance of advancing soon, but at ICM, he immediately got a partnership and co-presidency.
After Limato's departure, with his roster including Brian De Palma, Robert De Niro, Robert Duvall, Matt Dillon, Sandra Bullock, and Simon—plus support from WMA chairman Lou Weiss—Jonathan, once unremarkable among the vice presidents, had quietly become a frontrunner for the next presidency.
Simon was actually quite interested in the talent agency business.
However, California's Talent Agencies Act barred agents from producing and film companies from agency work. For now, Simon could only exert his limited influence on the industry's shifts without affecting the big picture.
In a large conference room at WMA headquarters.
Simon greeted everyone, soon reaching a tall, dark-haired actress—this was his choice for Basic Instinct's female lead, Linda Fiorentino.
In the original timeline, Linda Fiorentino was best known as the medical examiner in Men in Black.
But Simon had selected her because of another film she'd starred in: The Last Seduction. That 1995 movie was a clear Basic Instinct knockoff, a thriller-erotica. Fiorentino's portrayal of a manipulative femme fatale toying with the men around her was masterful.
After The Last Seduction's release, her performance earned near-universal critical acclaim. But since it premiered on HBO, it didn't qualify for Oscars, costing her a nomination that year.
Simon shook hands with Linda Fiorentino, and everyone sat around the conference table.
A few days earlier, Simon had picked her from a pile of actress profiles and arranged an audition with Michael Douglas.
The results were highly satisfactory.
Michael Douglas wasn't attending today. After playing the audition tape, Brian De Palma gave his approval, and they began discussing film details and contract terms with Linda Fiorentino's agent, George Lipton.
As the men talked animatedly, a somewhat husky female voice cut in with clear dissatisfaction. "Does no one want to ask my opinion?"
Simon and the others looked over. Linda Fiorentino's agent, George Lipton, quickly said, "Linda, why don't you head back first? I'll call you after work."
Linda Fiorentino shot her agent a sidelong glance but said nothing. She reached into her jeans pocket, pulled out a pack of cigarettes—ignoring George's pleading expression—took out a lighter, lit one, took a deep drag, exhaled the smoke, and looked straight at Simon. "Mr. Westeros, George submitted my resume—I never said I'd take the role."
Simon eyed the woman's demeanor with interest, suddenly recalling rumors from his memories about how difficult this actress could be. He just smiled. "Then why didn't you refuse? You even did the audition."
Linda Fiorentino replied, "I just wanted to see what it felt like acting opposite a big star like Douglas."
Simon remained good-tempered. "And now?"
Linda Fiorentino flicked her ash expertly. "The script's good, but too much nudity. If you cut some of those scenes, I'll agree to star."
Simon gestured dismissively. "Ms. Fiorentino, if that's your demand, you can leave now."
But Linda Fiorentino didn't move, showing no sign of backing down. She took another slow drag. "Mr. Westeros, from what I hear, Basic Instinct starts shooting next month—the schedule's tight. You won't find anyone more suitable than me on short notice."
Simon shook his head. "Actually, I had someone very suitable in mind before you—but I dislike her, so I won't use her. Are you trying to make yourself even more disliked?"