Chapter 169: The Allure of a French Woman
"Mmm…"
In the quiet of the bedroom, Sophie Marceau's exquisite allure was enough to make Aaron lose himself completely.
"My dear," he murmured, resting against her, savoring her warmth, "no wonder every French man is said to fall in love with you. That saying really isn't an exaggeration."
Sophie Marceau smiled softly, her fingers brushing through his hair.
"For the next few days, I won't be able to join you on that Spanish island," she said gently.
"I still need to stay in France for a while."
"That's fine," Aaron replied easily. "Take care of your own matters first. We can go to Spain together later—either way, I'll be treating it as a vacation."
By now, it was already November. For Aaron, a long, unhurried holiday was perfectly justified.
At twenty-six, Sophie Marceau possessed a mature, captivating beauty—sensual, graceful, and undeniably feminine. She traced her fingers lightly through Aaron's hair and smiled.
"Then I'll stay in Paris for a bit longer," she said softly,
"and afterward, I'll accompany you to one of those Mediterranean islands."
Aaron had no objections.
"By the way," he asked casually, "do you still keep in touch with Andrzej Żuławski?"
After all, the man was her former lover—someone Aaron didn't particularly like.
Sophie Marceau chuckled.
"Don't worry. After Blue Note was released last year, we stopped contacting each other. He went back to Poland."
As she spoke, she leaned over him and kissed him lightly before asking,
"What do you think of that romantic comedy I filmed in the UK this year—Four Weddings and a Funeral?"
Aaron's hand traced along her back as he answered,
"It's very good. It's meant to be a classic British-style romantic comedy."
"It's quite different from Fanfan, which you shot in France," he added.
"After all, Four Weddings and a Funeral will be rated PG-13 in the U.S."
Although Fanfan wasn't particularly explicit, scenes like Sophie's bath sequence would almost certainly earn it an R rating in America.
And French films, generally speaking, rarely performed well at the U.S. box office.
"Hollywood is just too commercially driven," Sophie sighed softly.
"It's hard to fully adapt to that."
Aaron nodded thoughtfully.
"By the way," he said, "I'm planning to buy some property here in Paris over the next few days. That way, if you ever want to come back, it'll be more convenient."
As he finished speaking, he shifted, gently pinning her beneath him.
"Hmm?" Sophie laughed softly. "Haven't you had enough already?"
"Of course not," Aaron replied with a grin, lowering his head to kiss her once more…
---
At the same time, another round of royal scandal erupted in the United Kingdom, once again dominating headlines. British media leaked an intimate phone call between Prince Charles and his longtime lover, Camilla, confirming their extramarital affair.
The revelation instantly turned Prince Charles into a global laughingstock, with the public openly questioning whether he was fit to inherit the throne at all.
Earlier, in August, the Daily Mirror had released a recording of Princess Diana's late-night phone conversation with car dealer James Gilbey on New Year's Eve of 1989. In the tape, Gilbey addressed Diana as "my darling" and "Squid," their voices unmistakably intimate.
Coming on the heels of the scandal involving Prince Andrew's wife, Sarah Ferguson—who had been photographed having her toes kissed by an American businessman—the "Squid incident" added yet another crack to the royal façade. Now, with Charles and Camilla's long-running affair exposed, public sympathy unexpectedly shifted toward Diana, granting her a measure of understanding and compassion.
A cascade of scandals throughout the year severely damaged the royal family's reputation, eroding public trust to its lowest point in decades.
That evening, at the Ritz Hotel in Paris, Aaron Anderson attended an invitation-only business reception, where he ran into Roman Coppola, son of Francis Ford Coppola.
Roman Coppola, who had long been based in France, also served as assistant director on Bram Stoker's Dracula (Dracula: Love Never Dies). With the film set for release in the United States later that month, Roman's anticipation was evident.
"Aaron, the success of Indecent Proposal and Sleepless in Seattle is enviable," Roman said, clinking glasses with a hint of admiration.
Mirror Films had earned little from The Godfather Part III, and Coppola's family studio was still burdened with debt. This new film represented a crucial opportunity for recovery.
Aaron smiled and returned the toast.
"Dracula opens in less than two weeks. I think it's going to surprise a lot of people."
Roman shrugged lightly. "Let's hope so."
He paused before asking, "You've spent quite some time in France. Any thoughts on the local film market?"
France, after all, remained Europe's artistic cinema capital—a place where cultural confidence ran deep and Hollywood dominance was never taken lightly.
Aaron considered the question.
"Hollywood's market share here is still substantial. Not as overwhelming as elsewhere in Europe, but strong enough. And frankly, everything you know, I already know."
A faction of French filmmakers and critics had long waged war against commercial cinema, believing film should exist purely as art—never mass entertainment.
Fortunately for them, the French government continued to provide generous subsidies, allowing arthouse films to retain a foothold. Without such protections, Hollywood productions would have overwhelmed the market within years.
"Every European country is trying to shield its domestic cinema from Hollywood," Roman observed.
Aaron remained unconcerned. Cinema, in the end, was still a business—and most audiences preferred accessible stories over intellectual purity.
Later that evening, Aaron spoke with Nicolas Seydoux, chairman of Gaumont Film Company. Their conversation drifted to the Franco-Hollywood co-production 1492: Conquest of Paradise.
With director Ridley Scott, star Gérard Depardieu, and a $47 million budget, the film had nonetheless collapsed both critically and commercially.
"By the way," Aaron asked casually, "does Luc Besson have any new projects in development?"
Aside from Besson, few French directors truly left a lasting impression.
"Luc?" Seydoux shook his head. "He's still working on a script, from what I hear."
Aaron frowned inwardly. So Leon hasn't begun yet?
Lost in thought, he suddenly looked up—and froze.
In the corner of the room stood a woman of breathtaking presence.
High-bridged nose. Full crimson lips. Long black hair cascading over her shoulders. Every detail radiated an irresistible allure. Her beauty was like a blooming rose under starlight—refined, luminous, impossible to ignore.
Clad in a sleek black evening gown, she seemed less like a guest and more like a carefully sculpted work of art.
Aaron's gaze lingered.