Chapter 106: Halloween Party
[Chapter 106: Halloween Party]
In the Los Angeles metro area, the biggest stars and wealthy elite from the world's top film and entertainment industries gathered. Beverly Hills and Santa Monica coastline boasted some of the most luxurious mansions, worth millions to tens of millions.
Charlie didn't yet have the funds to enjoy that kind of lifestyle. He had purchased a property in the Pacific community, covering just over 4000 square feet with three floors including a basement, costing $1.28 million. Most of it he financed through bank loans secured by copyright collateral.
The community had a small public bay beach, about a 5-6 minute drive through the road. The sand and scenery weren't the best, no private docks were available, and the coastal conditions didn't allow mooring yachts over 100 meters in length.
Still, the house had decent facilities, styled modernly with a red and white lattice exterior. It had three bathrooms, one master bedroom, four secondary bedrooms, one study, and a backyard swimming pool.
There was no private cinema or large garage like other luxury estates. It wasn't built on a mountain or a cliff -- standing on the rooftop offered the best views of the sea and sky.
The advantage was the house was fully furnished and move-in ready.
Most residents were core staff from film studios or IT network companies.
When viewing the house, Lamont Vincent handled everything. Charlie only saw photos before deciding to buy it.
He planned to use it as a temporary residence and buy a more luxurious house in a few years.
As the head of Corleone Entertainment Group, Charlie needed a respectable house for parties and family gatherings.
...
And today was that day.
On the deep gray sofa in the living room, Charlie lounged in white sportswear, playing with Evelyn the kitten with one hand and smiling at the TV screen while talking on the phone, "Oh, thanks for the congratulations, Vera. Of course, my movie will succeed. No worries, once it's released, we'll share the joy of success together. I'll make sure to attend your premiere. Okay, the party's about to start. Goodbye!"
The massive publicity for Wrong Turn had caught Vera's attention. She was in a passionate relationship, spending all her free time after rehearsals gathering news on her boyfriend's company and calling Charlie at noon or night to express her longing.
Today, learning about the premiere and party, she hurriedly used rehearsal breaks to check in.
At her end, Vera lamented she couldn't be with her boyfriend. At Charlie's end, after hanging up, his smile faded as he looked around.
...
The house was buzzing. Uncle Lamont spoke with the Pacific Home Services party crew, finalizing arrangements.
The entire place was decorated inside out with colorful neon lights and flowers.
In the kitchen, a team of more than ten chefs busily prepared semi-finished ingredients for plating.
Around the yard and outside, dozens of staff moved red wine, champagne, tables, and chairs.
Evelyn's curiosity got the best of her; she tried several times to scamper off the sofa to play chase but Charlie easily stopped her -- and the little kitten, with a fierce growl, bit the sleeve of his sweatshirt.
...
Lamont Vincent, dressed in a sharp suit, approached. "Boss, everything's set. According to plan, about twenty minutes from now, Kevin, Spike Lee, and others from the company will arrive."
Charlie glanced at Uncle Lamont, feeling satisfied.
He hadn't expected this guy, skilled in combat and firearms and having shadowed him and Colombo during the Tupac incident unnoticed, to organize the house purchase, moving, and party preparations so perfectly.
Only one thing -- Charlie feigned a grumble, "Uncle Lamont, how many times have I told you to call me Charlie? We're family here, no need for formalities."
Lamont Vincent grinned shyly. After a few days living together, he sensed Charlie was genuinely kind.
"Alright then, I'll just call you Charlie from now on."
"Great!" Charlie nodded, standing to look around.
"Have you called mother? Is she not coming?"
"Right, your mom doesn't want to join. She's busy handing out candy to the neighborhood kids."
Charlie rolled his eyes, and was about to say something when the sound of engines roaring outside caught their attention.
Uncle Lamont quickly turned, "Guests arrived early. I'll go arrange things."
...
One downside to hosting parties here was cars could only park on the street.
Uncle Lamont had thoughtfully communicated with neighbors.
Along the streets of the Pacific community, every house was decorated with pumpkin lanterns and such for Halloween -- many were throwing parties.
Some neighbors glimpsed the lavish cars arriving at Charlie's and peered curiously.
"Hey, Johnny, what does that family do? Their friends all seem loaded."
"Don't you know? The owner runs a film company. Oh, look -- the chubby guy there is Harvey Weinstein from Miramax."
"Wow, Morgan Freeman!"
...
Neighbors and media gossipers watched the spectacle.
At the front yard, smiling, Charlie held Evelyn as he greeted arriving guests.
First came Locke, CEO of the copyright company, Miramax executives including Harvey, and some familiar stars they had brought.
Soon after, Tom Rothman from Fox personally arrived.
"Hey, Charlie! Long time no see. Your company's really doing well now?"
"Haha, thanks. Come on in!"
...
Everyone exchanged embraces and pleasantries, each wearing their polished public mask.
After the first dozen or so guests arrived, the party crew played upbeat music professionally while servers politely carried trays of food and drinks through the crowd.
Charlie, as host, fluttered about like a social butterfly, showing himself to all.
...
Then Locke approached first, cheerily reporting some good news.
He updated on the sales of four novels from the copyright company, congratulating Charlie enthusiastically on the impressive marketing of Wrong Turn.
"Honestly, Charlie, just look at today's guests -- I can hardly believe you suddenly transformed into a Hollywood mogul. Your influence and status in the industry are clear from who's here. I swear, you're headed for the top ten on next year's Premiere magazine Hollywood power list."
Charlie wasn't moved by the flattery, rolling his eyes, "Locke, I've said it before -- I don't have time to write new novels. The horror series only has two books, and I have plenty of outlines for bedtime stories. Don't think your compliments will free me up."
Locke shrugged, "Alright. By the way, there's news about that thing you mentioned last time."
*****
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