After work, the meeting with Los Angeles Times reporter Peter Butler was once again set at the same restaurant as lunch.
Although they had crossed paths occasionally over the past year and he had even been invited to that grand birthday party earlier this year, seeing Simon again still gave Peter Butler a faint sense of unreality.
At the beginning of last year, the article he published in the Los Angeles Times praising an eighteen year old Simon to the skies had stirred up quite a bit of controversy. But now, even the most arrogant person could only describe what Simon had achieved over the past year as a miracle.
After some casual small talk and ordering dinner, once the waiter left, Peter Butler got straight to the point. "Simon, how do you feel about your ranking on the Forbes list?"
Simon smiled and answered honestly. "I've been too busy these past few days to really have any feelings about it."
"I wonder how many people would envy that kind of busyness," Peter Butler joked before continuing. "Recently, there's been quite a bit of debate over Forbes's estimate of your personal wealth. What do you think, is the figure of 3.1 billion dollars accurate?"
Simon had no interest in triggering a long chain of follow up questions, so he simply nodded and said, "Forbes is very professional."
There was still plenty of time during dinner, and Peter Butler was not in a hurry to dig deeper. He changed the topic instead. "By the way, I recently got my hands on some data. Clearly influenced by your string of successes in Hollywood, the number of students applying to film related schools in North America this year has more than tripled compared to previous years. Would you like to offer these young people some advice?"
"I'm young myself," Simon said with a smile. "And I don't really like giving advice, because I've always felt it doesn't mean much."
Peter Butler said, "Seems you haven't changed much from a year ago. Deep down, you're still a pessimist who feels detached from the world."
Simon neither confirmed nor denied it. "Maybe."
Peter Butler probed, "Would you mind if I wrote that judgment into the article?"
Simon shrugged. "That's your freedom."
"Looks like you don't care much about the media's opinions," Peter Butler said, then added, "Alright, let's talk about movies, Simon. From Run Lola Run to the recent Basic Instinct, over the past two years you've personally spearheaded six films, all of which achieved astonishing box office success. That's something that's never happened in Hollywood history. Could you share what you think is the key to these films' success?"
Simon thought for a moment and said, "Maybe they just happened to meet the audience's needs."
Peter Butler pressed on. "Everyone knows that audience tastes are the hardest thing to predict. Otherwise, this industry wouldn't be so risky. How do you judge that the films you create or select will align with what audiences want?"
"That would fall under personal talent," Simon said, shaking his head with a smile. "And Peter, if there really were some kind of measuring stick, do you think I'd tell you?"
Peter Butler realized that his question had been a bit foolish.
In two years, six films, all box office hits. If Simon truly had some kind of secret formula, any studio in Hollywood would pay any price to get it. There was no way he would casually reveal it.
But then.
Carefully reflecting on the exchange, Peter Butler suddenly realized something. He stared at Simon without blinking and said, "Simon, so you really do have some kind of talent that can ensure a film's success?"
"Peter, a film goes through too many unpredictable stages from script to finished product. Even after completion, marketing and distribution can have effects on its performance that are impossible to foresee. So all I do is try my best to make sure that every step of the process is done as well as possible."
Peter Butler countered, "But Simon, no one in Hollywood is joking around with tens of millions of dollars in investment. Everyone is trying to make their projects the best they can."
Just then, the waiter brought over their appetizers. Simon waited a moment, then pointed at the seafood salad on his plate and said, "Hollywood is actually a lot like the restaurant business. No matter how hard a Michelin one star chef tries, it's still very difficult to outperform a three star chef."
As the dinner, far more lavish than lunch, was served course by course, their conversation continued without pause.
The controversies sparked by Pulp Fiction and Basic Instinct, the production progress of Batman, Daenerys Entertainment's future development plans, Westeros Corporation's investments in tech stocks, and so on. Simon could not possibly reveal everything, but compared to the many media outlets that could not even get close to him, Peter Butler still walked away with enough material to write an exclusive.
By the time dinner ended, it was already past nine in the evening.
Sitting in the car, watching the city lights slide past along the coastal road, Simon's thoughts lingered on his conversation with Peter Butler that night.
In just over two years, from having nothing to possessing tens of billions in assets, even with the confidence he once had in the future, Simon had never anticipated reaching this point so quickly. When Peter Butler asked him how it felt at dinner, Simon had truly spoken from the heart. His rise had been too fast, too sudden. Before he had time to process it, he found himself already standing at the very peak of the pyramid.
Perhaps.
It was time to slow down and think things through carefully.
Simon had always been very clear about one thing. The rapid expansion of his two main businesses, Westeros Corporation and Daenerys Entertainment, had quietly accumulated many problems along the way.
Most obviously, as the third richest individual in the federal rankings, he lacked any network of connections or social influence that matched his status. All he possessed was vague personal fame and a staggering amount of wealth, like a child standing in the middle of a busy market clutching a block of gold.
The United States was indeed a mature and highly developed capitalist country, but that did not mean capital alone equaled everything. This was ultimately a world run by people. Humans made the rules, controlled the rules, and broke the rules.
If he continued charging ahead blindly like this, Simon believed that one day he would discover that the business empire he had built so quickly might be as fragile as the houses of the two lazy pigs in The Three Little Pigs.
The Range Rover pulled to a stop in the courtyard of the mansion, snapping Simon out of his thoughts.
The lights were on in the villa's living room, but Janet was nowhere to be seen. Simon loosened his tie as he walked inside and into the adjoining lounge, where he found Janet and Sofia Fessi curled up on the sofa watching television. Both women were clearly enjoying themselves, each holding a glass of red wine.
Seeing Simon, Janet set her glass down, stood up, and went over to hug him. "Sofia brought back some really nice red wine from France. Want to try some?"
"Sure."
Simon nodded, stepped forward to shake hands with Sofia Fessi, exchanged a few pleasantries, and sat down in a nearby armchair.
Sofia Fessi also sat back down. Watching Janet bring Simon a glass of wine, she nestled naturally into the man's embrace and took the initiative to start a topic. "This is a 1982 Saint Julien from Bordeaux. That year, the region scored a combined ninety eight points for climate, rainfall, sunlight, everything. In the twenty years before that, no major wine region in the world had produced such an outstanding vintage, and it may be hard to see one like it again. Wines from that year are absolute classics worth collecting."
After Sofia finished, Janet added, "I was talking with Sofia earlier today about buying a winery. Simon, what do you think?"
Simon lifted the wine glass, took a sip, and smiled. "I don't really understand this stuff. If you think it's a good idea, then go for it."
"Then I'll have Sofia start looking," Janet said as she helped Simon remove his tie and set it aside. "This time, Sofia brought information on sixteen properties. London, Paris, Rome, Venice. Basically all the major European cities. I took a look, and they're all wonderful homes."
As Janet spoke, Sofia Fessi noticed Simon's inquisitive look and took the initiative to pull a thick stack of documents from beneath the coffee table and hand them to him. With Janet's soft body in his arms, Simon set the materials on her legs and casually flipped through them.