Anthony Johnston stayed in Los Angeles only a few hours before flying back to Australia that evening.
The renovation of the Fifth Avenue apartment had been ongoing and required constant oversight. After Anthony's departure, Janet headed to New York the following day.
Having decided to acquire the promontory at Dume Point Park, Simon instructed his personal attorney, George Norman, to begin the process. The United States had precedents for park privatization; cost aside, purchasing a state park presented no insurmountable difficulty.
In the original timeline, Tony Stark's sleek, silver-streamlined mansion—known as "Stark Mansion" in the Iron Man series—perched precisely on that point. Compared to most Malibu properties, it was strikingly dramatic. Having resolved to recreate Avengers Tower in Manhattan, Simon could not pass up the equally appealing Stark Mansion.
As the clamor from the birthday party subsided, Simon's life regained its calm rhythm. He turned his attention to the array of projects underway at Daenerys Films.
Pulp Fiction completed final editing a week after his birthday. Though Orion remained skeptical, they proceeded with promotion and arrangements for the Cannes Film Festival in May.
Simon held high expectations for the film but paid it little further mind once finished. After all, Daenerys held only a 10% share of North American box office and 5% of videotape sales. His focus remained on projects the studio fully financed.
When Harry Met Sally, slated for March 25, was also complete. Following several internal screenings and considering its quality and subject matter, Disney opted to advance limited release by two weeks—approximately thirty screens in major cities like New York, Los Angeles, and Chicago beginning March 11.
Basic Instinct began shooting in mid-February, with a two-month production schedule and another two for post-production. The July 15 release date allowed ample buffer, barring unforeseen issues.
Progress on Rain Man, Steel Magnolias, Scream, and Dead Poets Society continued steadily under Simon and Amy's divided responsibilities.
On another front.
March 7 marked the official start of the Writers Guild strike, following rejection of the latest AMPTP offer.
No one except Simon anticipated the action would last five months.
The strike quickly disrupted network operations. Daytime soaps shifted to reruns, and late-night talk shows trimmed topical segments requiring scripts. Primetime spring series, prepared in advance, escaped major impact.
Additionally, the Academy Awards—originally scheduled for late March—were postponed. With Run Lola Run receiving only a minor technical nomination, Simon harbored no expectations.
Since the strike had arrived on schedule, Simon began developing several planned television programs alongside his film work. He had no intention of producing scripted series—the workload far exceeded feature scripts. Though he recalled numerous classic shows, he could not spare the time, and Daenerys could not hire professional writers during the strike.
Instead, he would produce reality television.
In his memory, the 1988 Hollywood writers' strike had sparked the emergence of reality programming on American networks.
Yet due to conservative strategies, widespread adoption came only in the late nineties, when proven European formats arrived and fueled two decades of reality dominance.
With the newly formed Fox joining the Big Three, four major national networks existed. Simon planned four reality shows—one for each, if possible. As the strike dragged on and content grew scarce, networks would have little choice but to consider ready-made programming.
"I met an ABC vice president in New York—solid guy. I'd planned to poach him after acquiring New World Entertainment, but that's off the table for now. He's agreed to introduce some producers. I'll have Janet send you the contacts. Give him a call."
In the hallway of Daenerys headquarters, the final production meeting for Rain Man—set to begin shooting next week—had just concluded. After seeing off key creatives, Simon and Amy walked back toward their offices.
"Simon, shouldn't we… discuss these reality shows with the networks first?"
"Not yet," Simon replied, shaking his head. "We'll see how it plays out. The budgets are low, and prep costs minimal. If the strike ends quickly, networks won't bite—or they'll lowball us. We'd shelve them. But if it drags into fall and disrupts new season production, we'll have leverage. As long as that possibility exists, we prepare."
Amy nodded, then added, "About Steel Magnolias—Meg Ryan still owes us a film. I think she'd suit Shelby. Her agent hinted the same."
"Meg's too sweet," Simon countered. "She doesn't fit a frail, terminally ill character. Besides, I've invited another actress. She should be here. Want to sit in?"
Amy blinked. "Who?"
"A newcomer," Simon said. "Saw her recently. I want her for Shelby."
Amy gave a knowing smile and shook her head. "All right—if you think she's right. I have to run to Disney anyway. Catch her another time."
Simon recognized the assumption but let it pass.
They parted. Returning to his office, he found three people waiting in the outer lounge.
He nodded to the man and woman, then turned to Courtney Cox—whom he had briefly encountered at his birthday party. "Court, we set four o'clock, didn't we? You're an hour early."
Courtney had attended the party but, amid the chaos, found no chance to speak with him alone.
Now, facing the young man who seemed even more composed than before—and recalling the ten-million-dollar extravaganza—she felt a sharper pang of envy. Still, she smiled lightly. "I didn't want to risk being late. Go ahead with your other business. I'll wait."
"Give me a moment, then."
Simon turned to the pair.
The middle-aged man extended his hand. "Mr. Westeros, hello. Marvin Josephson. Pleasure to meet you."
Though they had never met, Simon knew Josephson as president of ICM—the third-largest agency after WMA and CAA. With Ed Limato's recent defection from CAA bringing Mel Gibson, Denzel Washington, and others, ICM's roster had swelled.
"Hello, Marvin—call me Simon." He shook hands, then turned to the young woman with flaxen wavy hair, offering his hand with a warm smile. "Hello, Julia."
Julia Roberts, hearing the familiar tone, felt unexpectedly flattered. She quickly clasped his hand. "Hello… Simon."
"Shall we talk inside?"
Simon instructed Susan, nodded again to Courtney, and led the pair into his office. Courtney watched the door close, receiving no special consideration, and her mood sank further.
Inside.
They settled in the seating area. While awaiting coffee, Simon studied Julia Roberts.
At barely twenty, the future big-screen icon still carried youthful awkwardness. He had discovered her in Satisfaction, a musical released the previous month, where she played guitarist in an all-girl band. The same film featured a then-unknown Liam Neeson in a small role.
Julia had originated the role of Shelby—the terminally ill young woman—in the original Steel Magnolias. The character, based on screenwriter Robert Harling's sister, carried deep emotional weight.
Her performance earned an Oscar nomination for Best Supporting Actress. Compared to Meg Ryan, Julia's raw, unpolished quality suited Shelby far better.
After brief small talk, Simon broached the purpose.
"Marvin, I saw Julia in Satisfaction. As you know, Daenerys is developing several films. So I'll be direct—I'd like to sign Julia to a five-picture deal. What do you think?"
Neither Marvin nor Julia had anticipated this.
The industry knew how Simon had chosen Meg Ryan for When Harry Met Sally, and many—including the two present—suspected a personal connection.
Julia was merely a newcomer with one small independent role. Marvin had accompanied her only to network with Simon and secure opportunities for ICM clients. He had even convinced Julia to stay afterward, planning to return alone.
Now both were stunned by the offer.
For aspiring actors, landing even one decent role was fortunate. Most burned out waiting.
Five pictures.
Julia recovered quickly. "Simon… I'm in."
Marvin gathered himself. "Simon, could you elaborate?"
"Five films," Simon said. "Besides the supporting role in Steel Magnolias I sent over, the other four will be leads."
Julia nodded eagerly but held her tongue, glancing at Marvin. She would pay any price for this deal—and jump agencies in a heartbeat if he botched it.
Marvin grew calmer. He glanced at the attractive but unproven young woman, then at Simon. "I trust you can deliver five films, Simon. But what's the term, and how's the pay structured?"
"Ten years. For the first two, newcomer scale. Starting with the third, she can renegotiate."
"During those five films, can she take outside projects?"
"Not without my approval. And given the generosity of the offer, the contract will include strict restrictions and substantial penalties for breach."
Marvin considered. "Then ten years is too long. Five films—five years seems fairer."
Simon shook his head. "Ten years minimum, Marvin. We both know careers have peaks and valleys."
"But only five films in ten years—don't you think that's too few?"
"As I said, outside projects are possible with my consent. The contract spans ten years, but we might finish in five if everything goes smoothly."
Marvin glanced again at Julia, curiosity finally overriding caution. He could not believe a self-made billionaire would offer such terms purely for romantic reasons. "Simon, may I ask why?"