"Richard, being a producer involves a lot of work. A single movie project can take two to three years of your time. Take 'Fast & Furious,' for example—from preparation to shooting to release, it's going to take at least four years. You're a world boxing champion and an actor. Do you really have that much time to do other things?" Neal Moritz said, sipping his tea in his office.
Richard smiled lightly, "I understand. I'm just fascinated by your profession and want to learn more about it. After I retire, I might become a producer myself."
"Fascinated by us? What's there to be fascinated about?" Neal Moritz asked, puzzled.
"Well… I've heard that producers have a lot of power and can sleep with whoever they want."
Neal Moritz spat out his tea, his face reddening as he cursed, "Who told you that? That's nonsense!"
"Plenty of sources. For example, Marilyn Monroe's diary mentions that to get a role, you had to sleep with the producer; otherwise, there were hundreds of girls outside waiting for their chance. Neal, did you ever work with Monroe? I'm a big fan of hers."
"Get out!" Neal's face turned dark as he pointed to the door.
"Haha, don't be mad, Neal. I was just joking."
Richard stood up and poured him another cup of tea. "But I am serious about becoming a producer. You might have heard that I had a bit of a fallout with Mr. Weinstein, which has made many small movie companies hesitant to work with me. If I want to become an action star, I need to find another way—like investing in my own projects. That's why I'm here to learn from you."
"What happened between you and Weinstein?" Neal asked, holding his teacup.
Richard briefly recounted the party incident.
Neal nodded and suddenly smiled, "Didn't you say you wanted to become an Oscar-winning actor? And Harvey is known for making Oscar winners. Why not just play along with him for a few rounds?"
"I'm a world boxing champion; I have my pride, you know. There's no way I'd play second fiddle to him."
"Haha, pride? I seem to recall someone tricking a kid to get a role."
Richard felt a bit embarrassed, "I didn't trick Jim. Look at him now—he's doing great in boxing. I heard he even won a silver medal at the Manhattan Youth Championships. Neal, I think you should be thanking me."
"Thank you?!" Neal slammed his hand on the table, pointing at Richard as he yelled, "I'm a producer, but my son is out there boxing every day, getting his face beaten to a pulp, and you want me to thank you?"
"Yes. Boxing not only makes you strong but also teaches discipline, resilience, and perseverance—qualities that aren't easily developed. Now Jim is like a little man—disciplined, tough, and unyielding. Don't you feel proud seeing that?" Richard replied with a smile.
Neal Moritz twitched his mouth, wanting to argue but finding himself at a loss for words.
"Jim used to dream of becoming a singer, but after meeting you, his path veered off course."
"Haha, he can still be a singer after becoming a boxing champion. Just in the last few months, over ten music companies have contacted me, wanting to produce an album for me. I'm just not interested, or else I could be a big music star too."
Richard shrugged. He wasn't exaggerating; ever since he won the WBC gold belt last year, music companies had been eager to collaborate with him. It was common in the industry—Roy Jones, Tyson, and The Rock had all released albums.
"Alright, enough about that. Are you really interested in learning how to make movies?" Neal Moritz asked seriously.
"Yes, I'm very interested."
Richard replied earnestly.
"Is your goal as a producer to exploit people?"
"Of course not. My goal is simple: make money and become a superstar. As for exploitation, do I really need to resort to that?"
Richard spread his hands.
Neal Moritz chuckled, "Alright then. 'Fast & Furious' is in the early stages of preparation. There's a lot to do. If you have the time, come by and help out as my production assistant. How about that?"
"Haha, thank you, Neal!"
After chatting for a while, the two had lunch together and then went to a senior center to play bowling.
Neal was a bowling enthusiast and played every week. Richard, a novice, relied on his strength, haphazardly throwing the balls, and ended up getting thoroughly defeated.
As the afternoon sun began to set, Richard drove away from Third Avenue and arrived at Stralem Asset Management Company on Wall Street, where Ellie's office was located.
"Hey, Richard!"
Behind her desk, Ellie looked up and greeted him before returning to her computer, her hair a mess.
"Busy? It looks like you haven't slept in three days."
Richard said with a smile.
"Yes, year-end is always particularly busy. This year has been especially hectic. I haven't had time to sleep lately," Ellie said as she typed on her keyboard and then stretched, leaning back in her chair.
"Richard, take a look. The Nasdaq Composite Index has been soaring, reaching 4900 points and then smoothly breaking through 5000 points. Seeing the profits from tech stocks, investors are rushing in, prompting the Federal Reserve to raise interest rates for the sixth time.
This situation is great, but it's also very risky—like a powder keg ready to explode at any moment. Today, the company's strategy research department issued its third investment warning.
Many of our clients have already sold their tech stocks. Of the five clients I manage, you're the only one still holding onto tech stocks. What's your plan?"
Richard glanced at the data on the computer screen, understanding only the basics. He smiled lightly, "What's your opinion?"
"Here you go again."
Ellie rolled her eyes at him. "This time, I strongly advise you to exit early. After several months of trading and your additional investments, you now have $35 million in tech stocks. If you sell, you'll be a $30 million millionaire at just 21 years old. If you weren't my client, I might even be interested."
Richard smiled lightly, "What's the difference between $30 million and $10 million?"
"You mean to keep taking the risk?"
Ellie frowned.
"Yes, let's hold on a little longer—at least until the new millennium. I don't think the market will crash around New Year's."
Richard said, stroking his chin.
"You think? Based on what? The company's research team comprises experts from top universities and the Treasury. Any one of them knows a hundred times more than you about this. They predict a major market upheaval around February. Bailing out early is the safest move. It's for the clients' benefit. That's why I'm advising you to bail out now."
Ellie said seriously.
Richard thought for a moment, "How about we hold on for three more months and then bail out in February?"
"Do you realize the consequences? If a financial crisis hits, your stocks will be worthless, and you'll go from a millionaire to a pauper. Think it over carefully."
Ellie crossed her arms, looking at him sternly. Chapter 175: I Will Surely Become a Billionaire (Continued)
"Don't think about it anymore. Let's stick to February. I'm the world boxing champion—each fight earns me millions. Thirty million is just the prize money from ten fights, no big deal," Richard said casually, smiling.
Ellie looked at him, shaking her head with a sigh. "You're a crazy guy, Richard. I suddenly have a feeling that even if you lose this time, you'll still become a billionaire in the future."
"Haha, do you even need to feel that? I'm destined to become a billionaire," Richard said with confidence.
Ellie shook her head and pulled out a document. It was a form acknowledging that the client had received the warning from Stralem and chose to proceed at their own risk. Richard skimmed through it and signed his name. "Ellie, if the Nasdaq Composite Index goes up another 100 points, how much could I make?"
"Anywhere from ten to twenty million, but the risk of a crash is even greater," Ellie replied as she signed the document.
"No worries, I can afford to lose," Richard said with a smile.
"Ellie, do you have plans tonight?"
"Tonight? Why?" Ellie asked, eyeing him curiously.
Richard smiled lightly, "Don't get the wrong idea. There's a Victoria's Secret fashion show at the Madison Avenue Convention Center tonight. Want to come?"
"Is Bündchen walking the runway?"
"Yes, I'm going to support her."
"Okay, I'll join you!"
After gathering her things, the two of them left the office together.
(End of Chapter)