Chapter 229 – A Sexy Actress Who Needs an Opportunity
At the Chateau Marmont in West Hollywood, the ballroom glittered under warm lights. Champagne glasses clinked in rhythm with soft piano melodies as Hollywood's elite mingled effortlessly.
After the remarkable success of The Piano at Cannes, Dawnlight Pictures hosted a lavish celebration for the cast and crew. Director Jane Campion, along with actors Holly Hunter, Harvey Keitel, and Anna Paquin, were all in attendance.
When Aaron arrived, he ran into someone he hadn't seen in a while—Nicole Kidman.
"You seem even busier this year," he remarked.
Nicole smiled mischievously and pulled him upstairs to a private room. The moment the door closed, she kissed him fiercely.
After a long, breathless embrace, she leaned into him.
"The Pelican Brief is set for release at the end of the year."
Aaron's hands wandered as he replied, "John Grisham's novels rarely disappoint. It should perform well. Look at The Firm this summer—"
The Firm, starring Tom Cruise, had grossed $150 million domestically and $270 million worldwide.
"Exactly," Nicole nodded. "Because of The Firm's success, Warner moved The Pelican Brief up to Christmas."
She tilted her head. "Doesn't Dawnlight have a film with Denzel Washington coming out too?"
"Yes—Philadelphia," Aaron said. "Tom Hanks leads. Denzel plays a pivotal supporting role."
He kissed her again.
After a pause, Nicole asked, "Turner Broadcasting acquired New Line and Castle Rock. Are they becoming serious competition?"
Aaron smirked.
"New Line still retains autonomy. Castle Rock mainly produces films, distributing through Columbia. Turner's financial structure is heavily leveraged—Ted Turner's core focus remains television."
He wasn't concerned. With Dawnlight's recent acquisition of AMC, it was clear that Turner's TCM channel would become a direct rival. But Hollywood wasn't easy to conquer. Film investment was always a high-risk game.
"Come on," Aaron said. "You should congratulate Jane Campion. She's your fellow Aussie. The Piano has made her unforgettable in Hollywood."
They returned downstairs.
Nicole asked, "What about the other Palme d'Or winner—Farewell My Concubine? It's opened in North America, hasn't it?"
"Yes," Aaron replied. "But a Chinese-language historical drama won't match The Piano's box office here. Cultural distance still matters."
While Nicole moved off to congratulate Jane Campion, Aaron noticed another familiar face—Drew Barrymore—Steven Spielberg's goddaughter.
Standing beside her was a striking blonde in a red dress: tall, statuesque, with luminous blue eyes and a bold, captivating smile.
It was Cameron Diaz.
The moment Cameron spotted Aaron, she seized the opportunity. As soon as Drew stepped away, Cameron approached him directly.
"Mr. Anderson, good evening. I'm Cameron Diaz," she said with a confident smile. "I'm a model."
Her voice carried just the right balance of charm and ambition—a woman who knew she needed opportunity… and wasn't afraid to pursue it.
Aaron nodded, studying her for a moment before clinking his glass lightly against hers.
"Good evening. There aren't many girls here tonight with a figure as striking and a face as sweet as yours."
At twenty-one, Cameron Diaz radiated youthful confidence. Aaron's compliment clearly pleased her.
"Really? I've actually been trying to transition into acting lately," she said, a hint of excitement in her voice.
"Oh? Have you done any films yet?"
She shook her head. "I auditioned for a new Dawnlight Pictures film—The Mask."
The Mask
"I've made it to the final round."
As she spoke, she subtly moved closer, her body brushing lightly against his. "Mr. Anderson… do you think I have a real chance?"
The male lead, Jim Carrey, had already been confirmed. The only major role left was the female lead.
Looking at her, Aaron remembered clearly—she had originally been cast in that very role. And honestly, the Cameron Diaz standing in front of him now was breathtaking: young, radiant, effortlessly sexy.
He slipped an arm around her waist and took a sip of champagne.
"I think you do have a chance," he said calmly. "But you don't have any acting experience. The Mask is a $20–30 million production."
In Aaron's mind, Cameron was often associated with the later Charlie's Angels era—but by then, she'd already matured past the fresh, electric appeal she had right now.
"Experience can be gained," Cameron replied smoothly, her eyes warm and determined. "I'm new. I really need this opportunity. Maybe my performance will surprise people."
Aaron nodded thoughtfully.
"You're not wrong. Some films do benefit from fresh faces."
"There's still one final audition, right? Do your best. If you impress the director, the right choice will be made."
Dawnlight produced fewer than ten films a year, and Aaron was familiar with every project. But for secondary casting decisions, he rarely intervened directly.
Cameron blinked slowly, her smile deepening.
"I'll make sure to impress you, Mr. Anderson."