After the production meeting, Simon's days were spent hunkered down revising the script.
Even though he was working from home, he couldn't slack off one bit. The crew's staff came by every day to pick up his revisions, and David Giler and Brian De Palma frequently called to discuss details.
With the key creatives for *The Butterfly Effect* set and funding fully in place, the production schedule was tight—they aimed to start shooting in early October.
Simon needed to finish the second draft revisions in the next three weeks. Then, a week before filming began, he'd tweak some details based on the project's prep status. These were the two script revisions outlined in his Fox contract.
Once done, Fox would pay out the remaining $60,000 in installments, and Simon would have fully met his obligations. If the producers wanted further changes during shooting, they'd need a new contract and extra pay.
While busy with the *Butterfly Effect* revisions, Simon didn't neglect prepping *Run Lola Run*.
On David Giler's recommendation, Simon spent $3,000 hiring a production assistant to handle the detailed budget for *Run Lola Run*.
He'd originally planned to do it himself for the experience.
The memories in his head were all from technical pros, and while his past life gave him some producing know-how, it didn't fit Hollywood—this was one of his weak spots.
That's why, after misremembering *Run Lola Run*'s budget, he'd barreled ahead like a newbie despite sensing something off.
Luckily, it turned out okay.
Giving up on doing the budget himself was a bit无奈, though.
The remaining *Butterfly Effect* revisions would take another month. Tackling the tedious budget himself might take just as long. Then fundraising, assembling a crew, casting—it'd be another one or two months.
Even if everything went smoothly, by the time all was ready, it'd likely be December, with Christmas and New Year's piling on. To avoid frequent shutdowns inflating costs, he'd have to delay until after the holidays.
Now, $3,000 sorted it all.
Over the next month of work, he'd earn $60,000. Hiring an assistant for a month? Just $3,000.
Great value.
It also drove home that delegating was the way to go.
Ditching the hands-on mindset, he balanced revising *The Butterfly Effect* with prepping *Run Lola Run*. Once funded, the film could start in October and wrap before next year's Sundance as planned.
After two weeks of heads-down work, David Giler brought good news: Orion Pictures was interested in *Run Lola Run*. Brian De Palma was hosting a party at his place this Saturday, and Orion president Mike Medavoy agreed to chat with Simon there.
Since it was a formal event, Simon went out Saturday morning to buy a proper suit and dress shoes.
Near noon, back at the Montana villa, he was trying on his new outfit when the doorbell rang.
It wasn't a workday, and he didn't know many people, so he opened the door curiously—only to find Janet Johnston standing there with a tote bag, beaming.
She looked even prettier today in a pink knee-length skirt and white strappy sandals, adding a touch of girlish playfulness.
But Simon had deeply experienced the little terror lurking under that refined exterior. Glancing at the woman, then around, he instinctively asked, "Where's Katherine?"
Janet was already annoyed by his distracted attitude—she'd dressed up nicely, and where was he looking? His question only fueled her irritation. "How amusing. Kate and I aren't joined at the hip."
Simon nodded helplessly, tempted to slam the door but thinking better of the consequences. He stepped aside to let her in. "Jenny, what's up?"
Janet didn't answer right away. She twirled in the empty living room, blinking innocently with wide eyes. "Where's the furniture?"
A $2,700-a-month rental, and it was empty. *And you have the nerve to ask? Doesn't your conscience hurt?*
Simon grumbled inwardly, spreading his hands irritably. "Yeah, where's the furniture?"
If it were his own place, being sparse wouldn't matter—he could furnish it slowly. But this was a rental, and as a single guy, he had no interest in meticulously decorating.
Since moving in, he'd only added essentials like a desk, chair, wardrobe, and mattress. The rest stayed bare.
He'd even contacted the realtor to sublet, but the few prospects balked at the high price for an unfurnished villa.
Now, he just had to endure until the year's lease ended, then move out.
Janet seemed oblivious to his resentment, perking up again. "But this is perfect—we can redecorate it together."
Simon latched onto one word suspiciously. "We?"
Janet enthused, "Yeah, Simon and Janet. Doesn't that sound like Bonnie and Clyde?"
Simon nodded, stepping forward and placing a hand on her back. "Come on."
Feeling his broad palm gently guiding her forward, Janet's fair cheeks flushed. She moved compliantly with his push. "Little punk, it's the middle of the day. But, hmm, the basement could work."
Simon felt a black line streak across his vision. At the door, he pulled it open and nudged her out. "Jenny, great seeing you. Bye."
Janet stood blankly outside, blinking a few times before turning, her gaze fixed on Simon inside with an eerie "I dare you to close it" look.
Simon really didn't dare. After a standoff, he caved, "restarting." "Hey, Jenny, what brings you here?"
Janet shot him a disdainful side-eye, reentered, and pulled a 16-inch frame from her bag, handing it over. "Here, coward."
Okay.
Looked like he had another nickname.
Simon took it, seeing a very crude crayon drawing: odd little alien-like figures holding hands on grass, surrounded by flowers and trees, with sun and moon high above.
Clearly a child's work.
Then, spotting the small text in the bottom right, he realized it was a special thank-you from UNICEF. Grateful for Simon's generous $500,000 donation, the drawing was from a Latin American child who'd benefit.
The $500,000 was obviously the compensation from Matthew Broderick. Simon had handed it to Katherine to donate. Though *Run Lola Run* needed funds now, he didn't regret it—he'd never seen that money as his. If not for Janet bringing the drawing, he'd nearly forgotten.
Janet waited as he examined it, then spoke more normally. "There were receipts too, but I figured you wouldn't care, so I tossed them. I framed it myself—how's it?"
Simon nodded. "It's great. I'll hang it up; it'll be the house's first decoration."
"Then that's it—my errand's done."
Janet took the frame back, spotted an inconspicuous hook on the wall opposite the door—likely from previous tenants—and hung it there.
Stepping back to admire, she nodded satisfied, then linked arms with Simon. "All right, let's grab lunch. Your treat."
Simon was dragged out reluctantly, suggesting weakly, "Actually, there's leftover spaghetti I made last night in the kitchen—enough for two."
"Don't worry, I'll dump it when I get back."
"Uh, can you not come back?"
"Kate's in Arizona; I'm scared staying alone in Malibu. I'll crash here for a few days."
"Jenny, that's not cool."
Janet patted him lightly. "Kidding, you gutless boy."
They exited the villa; her wine-red Ford was parked curbside. Simon hadn't gone out much lately, so no time to buy a car—he'd drive hers for lunch.
Opening the door, Janet主动 gave him the driver's seat, directing him to a French restaurant near the Brentwood Country Club.
Once seated, Janet suddenly noticed his formal shirt, slacks, and shiny new shoes. Before, he'd always been casual in tees and jeans. Simon was a natural clothes horse; the formal look suited him seamlessly. Her scatterbrained self hadn't noticed until now.
Spotting the change, she dug for details.
And just like that, Simon gained a date for tonight's party.