When the three of them picked up the script, he scratched his messy hair and said again, “Our next task is to build momentum for this new project. I’ll file it with the Producers Guild according to standard procedures. Mary…”

Ronald looked at the middle-aged woman. “We’ll hold a press conference next week. You go arrange the venue—set it at the Beverly Hills Hilton Hotel. George, you’re in charge of contacting media reporters. I’ll prepare PR funds and a batch of gifts for you. No matter if it’s major or minor newspapers, even if you have to pay paparazzi, you must ensure at least fifty reporters attend!”

With money and gifts, things get done easily. George-Clint immediately said, “No problem.”

Ronald then said to Robert, “You’ll represent Sahara Entertainment to send invitations to Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio. Leak it to the tabloids and try to ride the wave of ‘Titanic’.”

George-Clint shook the script and suggested, “Also send invitations to stars who might act in horror films. That’ll make it easier to stir up topics.”

Ronald agreed, thinking as he spoke, “Send invitations to Jamie Lee Curtis, Drew Barrymore, Johnny Depp, and George Clooney.”

“Their agents won’t even bother to respond,” Robert-Lee, a veteran in the film industry, said. “They won’t even bother to refuse.”

Ronald pinched his chin. “Even better if they ignore us. Robert, remember to send open, formal invitations.”

Robert replied, “Got it.” He closed the script and said, “Is this script really suitable? The premise is interesting, but the Arabs…”

Mary and George had similar thoughts and looked at Ronald.

The script was questioned instead of being praised as brilliant, but Ronald didn’t mind and said directly, “Don’t forget, we’re seeking investment from Arabs. Once we get the money…”

Robert immediately understood. “Once the investment is in, we can change the script however we want.”

“Get to it, then.” Ronald called out to Mary, “Hire a small team to make posters and storyboards based on the script. Make them as exquisite and beautiful as possible.”

Mary nodded. “I’ll get on it right away.”

Ronald pointed at his messy hair. “Help me recommend a stylist.”

At twenty, he lacked credibility, and Young Anderson had made himself look too haggard. He had to make himself look like a successful, mature producer.

Chapter 5: The Spoiled Brat

On Saturday night, the Regent Hotel was brightly lit and filled with celebrities.

20th Century Fox hosted a banquet in the name of “Titanic,” drawing a response from both the cultural and entertainment circles.

“Over there.”

Passing between two groups of people, Robert-Lee signaled with his eyes to the left front. “The person opposite Leonardo is Samuel Hill-Zayed. When my friend met him, I saw him from a distance.”

Ronald nodded, handed his glass to Robert, and walked toward another small circle near Leonardo.

Going straight over wasn’t the best choice. The banquet had just begun, and there was plenty of time to find the right opportunity.

The circle where Samuel Hill-Zayed was had four or five people. Ronald quickly observed that the center of that group was undoubtedly the wildly popular Leonardo DiCaprio, while Samuel Hill-Zayed was subtly excluded.

The group Ronald approached was very close to Leonardo, with five or six people gathered around Kate Winslet, engaged in lively conversation.

Flattering the powerful and stepping on the weak is the most basic survival rule in Hollywood.

As he walked, Ronald kept an eye on Samuel Hill-Zayed. This Arab man wasn’t very old, looking about twenty-five.

Robert’s friend had managed to get some information on him.

Samuel Hill graduated from Cambridge University last summer with dual master’s degrees and is one of the deputy directors of the Abu Dhabi Investment Authority in the US—a typical academic overachiever.

But his current position had nothing to do with being a top student; it was all because of the Zayed name.

In Western terms, Samuel Hill-Zayed is a member of the Abu Dhabi royal family.

Of course, there are dozens of princes in Abu Dhabi, so he’s not particularly prominent for now.

Robert found a quiet spot, ordered a glass of champagne, and watched Ronald as he drank. Perhaps the last project’s failure was too painful, but this young man had changed a lot recently—his arrogance and pride were gone, and he’d become much more organized.

Will this financing plan succeed?

On this point, Robert wasn’t confident. Maybe Ronald wouldn’t even be able to handle that Arab.

If it fails, it’s time to consider an exit. Having accompanied Sahara Entertainment this far, he could answer to the late old Anderson.

Arabs… sigh. Robert shook his head. Arabs don’t have a good impression of Hollywood; they’re hard to deal with.

Approaching the small circle around Kate Winslet, Ronald straightened his bow tie and pushed up his non-prescription glasses. The dark suit and gold-rimmed glasses made him look more mature.

Taking advantage of two people leaving, Ronald quickly stepped forward, came up to Kate Winslet, put on a big smile, and extended his right hand. “Hello, Miss Winslet. Congratulations on your Best Actress nomination.”

In the recently announced Oscar nominations, Rose made the list, but Jack was left out.

“Thank you.” Kate Winslet gently shook his hand.

Ronald was about to say a few more words when a strange voice came from Leonardo’s side.

“Does the Arab world even have movies?”