Chapter 25 – The Restless Dancer
As William looked at Courteney, he knew that the decision he was about to make would alter her future.
If he hired her, then—so long as he didn't intervene—Courteney's acting career would most likely come to an end right here.
If he rejected her, she would probably drift around for a few more years before landing a role in Friends, skyrocketing to fame overnight.
But whether Courteney became famous or not had nothing to do with him.
William had never been the kind of person who liked meddling in other people's destinies.
"Very good," he said calmly. "You're hired, Miss Cox. I appreciate this kind of honesty—no false optimism."
Courteney hadn't expected the interview to end so abruptly.
For a moment, the surprise hit her all at once. She had assumed that, as someone who was little more than a pretty face with some minor acting experience, landing a regular job would be difficult.
Yet her very first interview—and she was hired.
Before she could even stand up to thank William—
The office door was suddenly knocked hard, then pushed open.
A production runner rushed in, drenched in sweat, panic written all over his face.
"Mr. Blake—something's wrong. The actors are fighting."
He looked at William like a headless chicken.
William frowned.
"What happened?" he asked, already standing and heading out.
As William left, Courteney rose as well, unsure of what she was supposed to do—follow him, or stay put?
But human beings are terrible at resisting curiosity.
After less than five seconds of hesitation, Courteney scurried to the doorway, leaning against the frame to watch the commotion outside.
Inside the soundstage, a barn set styled after an 1860s farm had been erected.
Jamal stood there shirtless, a riding whip in his hand, wearing rough linen trousers—clearly period-appropriate attire.
Beside him was a white female actress whose name William didn't recall. She was dressed in the conservative clothing typical of a farm owner's wife from that era.
To William's eye, the outfit was—frankly—a little too restrained.
But that wasn't the point.
The point was that the actress was currently crying her eyes out.
"What's going on here?!"
William barked.
The noisy crew instantly fell silent.
"Director! You have to do something about him!" the actress cried.
"He actually hit me—hard! Look at the marks all over my body! Is this how acting is supposed to work?!"
As she spoke, she deliberately tugged open her collar, revealing a patch of pale skin.
On the surface, she was showing her injuries.
Whether there was also an attempt to seduce William… that was another matter.
Either way, William wasn't buying it.
He examined the marks carefully—there really were welts from a whip.
Then he turned to Jamal.
"Jamal. Tell me exactly what happened."
William didn't jump to conclusions.
He listened to both sides.
"Hell!" Jamal snapped.
"I was acting! Who the hell knew she'd be this sensitive? If I'd actually used force, she'd already be in the hospital.
"And besides—her ancestors did way worse to mine!"
He shot an irritated glare at the white actress.
She immediately shrank behind William, putting on a pitiful, frightened act.
In Hollywood, whether on-screen or off—everything was a performance.
William's expression darkened.
He first calmed Jamal with a look, then turned to the actress.
"Come with me."
Still teary-eyed, she nodded obediently.
But as William led her toward the office, she suddenly turned back and shot Jamal a you'll regret this look.
---
Inside the Office
The moment she entered, the actress closed the door behind her.
William frowned.
Then she noticed someone else in the room.
Courteney.
The unnamed stripper-actress—who had already loosened her collar, ready to make a move—froze in embarrassment.
"Courteney," William cleared his throat,
"When can you officially start work?"
Courteney snapped out of her spectator mode.
"Uh—anytime. Even today."
William nodded.
"Good. You're officially on staff. Go find Katya and handle the onboarding paperwork.
"Oh—and when you leave, keep the door open. Don't close it."
William had no interest in these cheap tricks.
Courteney left reluctantly, glancing back several times, and deliberately opened the office door as wide as possible.
William leaned back in his chair, eyes indifferent.
"What's your name?"
"I'm Winnie, Director," she replied in a sweet, syrupy voice.
If the door hadn't been open, she probably would've already thrown herself at him.
Her gaze was practically devouring him.
"So, Miss Winnie," William asked flatly,
"Can you actually handle this role?"
"Director~ how am I supposed to act that out~?" she whined.
"That dead Ni—"
She stopped mid-word, glanced toward the open door, then lowered her voice.
"He was really hitting me!"
The cutesy tone was nauseating.
"Alright. I understand," William said calmly.
"Go home and rest. I'll contact you later."
"That's great~ thank you, boss~"
She tried to lean in for a kiss—William stopped her.
She clearly assumed Jamal would be punished.
Just as she was about to leave, William stopped her.
"Wait. Before you go, have Anthony come see me."
---
A few minutes later, Anthony entered the office.
"Mr. Blake."
"Anthony," William said coldly,
"Tell Winnie she doesn't need to come in tomorrow. Have José send someone else to replace her.
"As for the wasted film stock—we'll let it slide this time.
"But if your girls pull something like this again, all losses come out of your end.
"You can go."
Anthony didn't like it—but remembering José, he swallowed his anger and left.
William rubbed his temples.
---
That Night
Inside the Blazing Paradise Club, José listened to Anthony's report.
His face turned iron-black.
"Fuck!
"First Nancy, now Winnie—why is every one of them acting up?!
"They really think shooting one or two Valley films makes them Hollywood stars?!
"Goddamn it!"
José smashed his glass onto the floor.