[Chapter 408: Link, Can I Be Your Girlfriend?]
After a busy spell in the office, Lily left with a flush of flirtation, walking as if on clouds. At the door, she shot him a moist, soulful glare, as if blaming him for being too harsh, turning her into someone who'd spark gossip.
Link felt a little sting from her luscious yet feisty look. He sighed inwardly -- this woman, when acting coquettish, was more enchanting than any temptress, making him want to rally and love her all over again.
He pretended to stand up to grab her, but Lily turned her head with a smile, playfully punching toward him before swaying her hips and closing the door behind her. Link shook his head with a smile.
In the past, women loved him mostly for his wealth, power, status, and looks. Ever since Monica showed the magical effect, everyone hoped to gain that mystical glow from him -- eternal youth, beauty, and flawless figures.
After he agreed to have children, his girlfriends transformed noticeably -- they grew more passionate, vibrant, and attentive toward him. Back then, closeness was all about physical proximity. Now, he felt a deeper emotional acceptance, as if they wholly claimed him as their man.
Link guessed the difference came from the children -- a mother's identity legally tied to him, giving them a secure sense of belonging. After Lily left, he wiped the stains from the desk, opened a file, and resumed work.
---
Lewinsky came in halfway, bringing files, pouring tea, and offering shoulder massages. She lingered in the office, reluctant to leave even after ten minutes.
"Monica, do you have something to say?" Link put down his pen, gently removing her hands from his shoulders and asked her to speak freely.
Monica Lewinsky had been his personal assistant for over a year, well-versed in many of his private matters -- how many women he dated, their underwear sizes, the size of his condoms, and the lengths of their sessions. He also knew many details about Monica -- her background, measurements, 93-62-92, and so forth.
Their bond was closer than a typical boss-assistant relationship; hand-holding and massages were everyday occurrences, so there was no need to hold back when speaking.
Monica leaned forward at the desk, deliberately accentuating her curves.
"Link, I've been thinking, and I should tell you about something."
"Oh? What is it?"
"That fat guy Harvey has been harassing me lately."
"Harvey?" Link was surprised -- how could Harvey Weinstein dare harass Monica?
"You know I'm Jewish," she said seriously. "Harvey often uses that as an excuse to invite me to Jewish gatherings. I've refused many times, but he's persistent. I suspect his intentions aren't toward me, but toward you, boss. You should watch out."
Link frowned thoughtfully. He was aware Monica was Jewish and didn't care -- his girlfriends included many Jewish women, like Jennifer Connolly, Winona Ryder, and Lisa Kudrow, and so did some of his company's executives. He didn't harbor any ill feelings for that.
His concern was why Harvey would harass her like this -- was it a ploy against him? He had always kept a wary eye on Harvey Weinstein, but since Harvey and Miramax didn't hold much sway over his career, he hadn't confronted him before.
But now, hearing about Harvey's harassment of Monica, Link felt compelled to act.
...
Without hesitation, Link called Harvey, asking what business he had with Monica. If Harvey wanted to poach her, he could grant that favor.
Harvey stammered, denying any interest and calling it a misunderstanding.
Link half-joked, half-serious, told him to watch his image -- it's not easy when you're a big shot to make people misunderstand your intentions. Besides, Evita, which Harvey co-produced with him, was in production; he should focus more on the project than private affairs.
Harvey quickly agreed.
...
"Link, you're amazing."
As Link hung up, Monica pounced on him, pressing her body against his chest, lips raining kisses on his face.
"Enough with the flirting -- it's work time. Your behavior counts as sexual harassment," Link patted her back.
"I'm going to flirt anyway. Even if you call the cops, I won't let go."
"Monica, you're making things really hard for me."
"Then don't move and let me keep harassing you."
She nestled in his arms, smiling brightly. "Link, you're so powerful. They say Harvey is tough and hard to deal with, but just now, facing you, he looked like a scolded little kid -- it was hilarious."
"I stand on the right side, so of course I can do that. But if Harvey comes near you again or harass you, tell me immediately. I'll handle it."
"Got it, boss, I'll listen to you."
Monica kissed him again, clinging to his leg. "Link, can I be your woman? Ever since I first saw you, I've been crazy about you, treating you like my dream man. I don't care about other men -- I love you. Is that love? Link, can I be your woman?"
She batted her long lashes, her face full of hope and nervousness.
Link sighed - here came the hardest part of the game.
"Monica, you know I'm a player with many women, and you're young -- you have better choices."
"Link, I don't care how many women you have. All I care about is whether you can accept me. I know I'm not as pretty or famous as them, but I can take care of you -- serve you tea, bring you documents, give you massages, warm your hands with my chest, like a personal maid. Link, let me be your personal maid for life, okay?"
Monica pressed tightly against him, her pleading tone unmistakable.
Link wanted to warn her against jumping into the fire but didn't know how -- he could only marvel how being so outstanding and charming brought its own share of troubles.
---
"Damn you, Link. How dare you criticize me!"
"I'm going to kill you -- I swear I will."
At Miramax, Harvey slammed down the phone, his face dark as pitch, cursing loudly to no one.
The situation had gone beyond his expectations. He never thought Monica would betray kinship ties by reporting him to Link. Nor did he expect Link to respond not with tolerance or polite warnings but a direct reprimand.
This was rude, disrespectful, and showed no regard for him -- as if he were an unknown employee, not the head of a film company or a heavyweight producer.
It infuriated Harvey, who had fought for over two decades in Hollywood to earn his prestigious reputation.
Link's call had humiliated him.
Harvey clenched his fists, his bloated face twitching grotesquely -- more frightening than a leper's.
After silent seconds, he grabbed his phone and dialed a number. Once the call rang a few times and was about to connect, he quickly hung up.
"Not yet. Can't be rash."
He sat down, loosened his tie, muttering to himself.
The last shooting incident was only two months prior -- another would risk exposure.
But Harvey couldn't swallow his pride or let it go. Staring fiercely at Link's photo in the paper, he snarled, "Don't get cocky! I swear I won't let you be."
He recalled Ovitz mentioning the 'poison pill plan' hadn't kicked in yet. Once next year's film released and the plan took effect, he'd take his revenge.
*****
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