Luc Besson's EuropaCorp is pretty famous—it was once called the eighth biggest film company in the world, the only one in Europe that could rival Hollywood. They've churned out some awesome action flicks like The Transporter, Taken, and more.
But Dunn? He's not impressed. At its peak, EuropaCorp was worth, what, $200 million? Then one flop later, they're down $80 million in the hole. Ouch. Dunn's got no energy—or interest—in teaming up with Luc to start a movie company in France. If it ever comes to it, he'd rather wait until EuropaCorp tanks hard and scoop it up cheap. It's not a big price tag, and it comes with over 100 film rights. Easy peasy.
Or better yet, just work with Luc on one movie—clean, quick, and straight to the point.
After hearing Dunn's pitch, Luc sits there for a sec, staring at him. "Why does this feel kinda familiar?" he asks.
Dunn waves it off. "Nah, it's different. I'm talking a comedy shoot-'em-up with equal spotlight on the guy and the gal—not just some dude-centric blockbuster."
Luc hesitates. "Is this an A-list big-budget thing?"
Dunn grins. "You bet! Early plan's got a budget of at least $100 million."
Luc legit gasps. $100 million! That's hands-down the heaviest commercial hit he'd ever tackle. Forget everything else—just that $100 million dangling there? No foreign director's saying no to that. That's top-tier, big-league stuff!
"Got a script yet?" Luc asks.
Dunn shakes his head. "Just the idea so far. If you think it's solid, we can flesh out the story. Dunn Films has a killer team of writers."
Luc gets serious. "I'd like to handle the writing crew myself."
"Sure thing!" Dunn nods. "You're the director—that's your call. But the leads? You only get to suggest. I've got final say." He pauses, then adds, "For the guy, I'm leaning toward Mel Gibson."
Dunn had promised Mel a collab way back. His original idea was The Expendables, but that got shelved for a bunch of reasons. This new project? Perfect stand-in. Plus, Dunn's terrified Luc might push his go-to guy, Jean Reno, for the role. For this flick, the big draw has to be two mega-stars as the leads.
Luc's eyes light up. Mel Gibson! Hollywood's top dog right now—every movie he touches turns to box office gold. Especially the Lethal Weapon series—total action classics that punched way above their weight.
Even Stallone and Schwarzenegger have to tip their hats to him.
Luc takes a deep breath. "I'm really pumped for this!"
Dunn laughs. "Awesome! How about after Cannes wraps up, we head back to Hollywood and hash out the details?"
"Deal!" Luc's no dummy—he's not passing up a shot like this. He watches Dunn, all chill and breezy, then adds, "Oh, by the way, Natalie's the second lead, right? Is she here?"
Dunn smiles. "Yep, she's here. Wiped out, though—crashing at the hotel."
Luc nods. "I loved working with her on Léon. She's gonna kill it in this one, I bet."
"Absolutely!" Dunn's grin turns cocky. "I'm planning to use this movie to push her for next year's Oscars."
Oscars, huh? If they're aiming that high, Cannes is basically a warm-up, right?
Some things don't need to be spelled out. At this point, it's a classic quid pro quo.
"I'll be at the premiere," Luc says, dead certain.
Dunn and Luc hit it off, chatting up a storm about movies and their takes on the biz.
By the time Dunn gets back to the hotel, it's late. He doesn't bug Natalie and heads straight to his room—a presidential suite with a main room and a second one for the "first lady."
The second he opens the door, a sweet scent hits him.
"Huh? Is that Nicole in here?"
Dunn's face lights up. Looks like Natalie's playing nice despite her grumbling—keeping her word and being a good sport by letting Nicole Kidman crash in his room. Well done!
Props to her! Life's looking pretty sweet from here on out.
Dunn doesn't bother with the lights, strips down in a hurry, tosses the covers back, and dives into bed.
But then—a whiff of that scent stops him cold.
Wait. This isn't Nicole's vibe. This… this is Natalie's!
Dunn freezes. Thank God it's pitch black—they can't see each other's faces.
"What're you doing?" Natalie's voice cuts through, crisp but sleepy.
"Uh—I… I walked into the wrong room!" Dunn stammers. He's always been respectful with Natalie—jokes aside, he's never crossed that line.
She reaches out, brushes against him, and realizes he's buck naked. Her breath catches.
Dunn's mortified. "Nat, I swear… uh, total mix-up."
"I know," she says calmly.
"You know?"
"Sneaking around isn't your style." She's waking up now, brain kicking into gear. "You… you thought I was Nicole, didn't you?"
Dunn's jaw drops. "Nat, you're too damn sharp!"
She huffs and rolls over. "Then go find her!"
Dunn winces but catches a weird vibe in her tone. He smirks, lies down beside her, and slides an arm around her from behind, whispering in her ear, "Nat…"
Her breathing's all shaky. After a long pause, she murmurs, "Dunn… I've actually been ready for a while."
"Huh?" He jolts, legit shocked.
She turns to face him. It's too dark to see, but their breaths mix in the air. "Dunn, my mom's brought it up a bunch of times—told me to say yes to you."
Dunn goes quiet, brushing her cheek. "Babe, this is our thing. No one else gets a say."
"I know, but…" She sighs softly. "I get what Mom's driving at. She wants me locked in with you. But I don't think that's the right way."
"Damn right it's not! It's dead wrong!" Dunn's firm. "Nat, I'm 1000% behind you on this. You're a good girl—not like those Hollywood starlets. You don't trade your body for anything."
She giggles out of nowhere.
"What's so funny?"
"You're such a dork!"
"Huh? Why?"
"Supporting me like this—you're basically cool with me keeping my distance!"
He pinches her nose playfully. "It's not like that. I want us to get there naturally—love and all."
"Is it really love?"
"Isn't it?" He teases. "You think I'd waste this much time on some random fling?"
"Would you marry me?"
"Anytime you say yes!"
She goes quiet, then snuggles into his chest. "I'm kinda scared. Your personal life's a mess!"
He blows a soft breath by her ear. "Other girls couldn't handle this chaos, but you? I know you can, Nat."
She pouts. "I'm not so sure."
He chuckles. "I've never doubted you! You handled Harvard—think you can't manage a little relationship drama? Those other girls? Just dumb Hollywood actresses!"
She bursts out laughing. "Promise me one thing—no elite girls. Stick to entertainment types. If some cunning, calculating chick comes along, I'm toast!"
"Elite girls?" He shudders. "Bill Gates learned that lesson the hard way—I'm not that dumb! I'll stick to actresses, singers, models—no threat to you, promise."
She sighs, blinking up at him. "Sometime, let's go visit Mr. Hefner."
"Who?"
"Mr. Hefner—Hugh Hefner!"
Dunn's blank. "Uh… who's that?"
She smirks. "You're out here dating everyone and don't know Playboy's founder? America's ultimate playboy!"
"Ohhh, that guy!" Dunn catches on. "Why visit him?"
She lowers her voice. "I looked him up. He lives with seven girlfriends—and it's supposedly… cozy."
"Seven?!" Dunn's floored. "When Nicole and Naomi moved in, Reese bailed—she couldn't handle it. How's Hefner pulling that off?"
She snickers. "You're no match for him. He's… uh, been with over a thousand girls."
Dunn chokes. "Nat, that's nuts! Hefner's a player—I'm not like that. I'm capping it way under a thousand!"
"You jerk!" She smacks his chest, and he laughs, pulling her close. "Nat, be mine."
"Aren't I already?"
"I mean… for real."
She doesn't answer—just rests her head on his chest and closes her eyes.
Everything's said without a word.