Anson wasn't entirely sure if it was just his imagination, but the black platform shoe lying in the golden sunlight seemed to be drawing attention to itself.
But Anson didn't panic. He quickly assessed the spatial layout—fortunately, the platform shoe wasn't in the young man's direct line of sight. As long as Anson didn't make any sudden, suspicious moves, the guy might not notice the shoe at all—
Hidden in plain sight.
Anson put on a thoughtful expression and slightly raised his chin, "Over there. She was holding a kitten and ran that way. I think she was trying to hail a cab."
The young man exclaimed, not questioning Anson at all. Without a second thought, he turned and looked in the direction Anson had pointed, just in time to see a taxi pass by. He took off in a full sprint, muttering a string of curses under his breath, venting his frustration.
His intimidating presence was undeniable, even as he tried to control it, radiating an overwhelming sense of menace.
In the blink of an eye, the young man disappeared around the street corner.
Anson was about to tell the girl that it was safe when suddenly, like a catwoman, she appeared right in front of him, seemingly out of nowhere, descending from above.
A dark figure flashed at the corner of his eye.
Instinctively, Anson reached out, unsure if he was trying to catch her or protect her—just a reflex.
But the girl landed gracefully, striking a "Terminator" pose with one knee on the ground. She didn't need any help, smoothly rising on her own in a stylish and cool manner.
Then, with a toss of her hair, she flashed Anson a smile like a superhero making an entrance. "Thanks for the help…"
Before she could finish, the girl suddenly started hopping around, wincing in pain. The source of thɪs content is N0v3l.Fiɾe.net
"Ow, ow! My foot—it's numb, ah, it's cramping…"
She was now hopping and wriggling in front of Anson like a worm on a rainy day, far from the cool and composed figure she had just been.
Anson couldn't help but chuckle, "Are you alright? You didn't hurt yourself, did you?"
The girl straightened up, trying to maintain her composure as she cleared her throat. "No, no, no, I'm fine…"
She quickly turned away, waving awkwardly at Anson as she hurried off. Only then did she wince in pain again, but she kept walking, heading towards the corner of the parking lot. There, she gently placed the kitten in her arms beside a larger cat sunbathing on the ground.
Stepping back, she watched as the little kitten snuggled up under the big cat's belly, a contented smile spreading across her face.
But then her expression twisted in pain again.
It was only now, much later than one would expect, that the girl realized she was missing a shoe—
The midday sun in Los Angeles was particularly scorching. Although it was only April, the ground was already radiating heat like a griddle.
The girl tiptoed, limping back towards Anson, gritting her teeth against the hot pavement.
Anson picked up the lonely platform shoe lying on the ground and, with a playful flourish, presented it to her as if it were a crystal slipper on display in a high-end boutique.
As she approached, Anson nodded towards the shoe, "So, are you Cinderella?"
The girl paused, surprised—
Then burst out laughing.
She clutched her stomach, laughing so hard her smile spread across her entire face, lighting up her eyes. She then said with a playful grin, "Scarlett-Cinderella-Johnson. I guess you can call me by my middle name."
Of course, it was a joke—
Scarlett-Johnson, the future goddess who would captivate millions, was at this moment just a slightly underweight, somewhat non-mainstream teenage girl. Her features weren't fully developed yet, far from the sultry beauty she would become. Instead, she had a delicate and somewhat sweet appearance.
After all, she was only about to turn seventeen this year.
Honestly, Anson didn't recognize her.
Even standing face to face now, she felt unfamiliar, and he couldn't help but wonder if this was just another girl with the same name.
He was so used to seeing her as the fierce Black Widow dominating the big screen that it was hard to reconcile that image with the innocent, youthful face in front of him.
**Despite the surprise, Anson's quick thinking kicked in immediately. Without missing a beat, he smoothly replied, "Anson-Prince Charming-Wood."**
Scarlett watched as Anson executed a polite knightly bow, and she couldn't hold back her laughter any longer. But as the laughter echoed in her chest, she quickly realized the urgency of the situation. What if her laughter gave away her location?
"Oh, sorry, I need to go," Scarlett said, waving at Anson. She grabbed her platform shoe and walked away in the opposite direction, trying to put it on as she went. After a few steps, she remembered to wave again. "Thanks, I mean, thank you for helping me, thank you for everything."
Just like that, the girl in cherry red pants disappeared from view.
**Now, Anson finally understood the meaning of that Los Angeles saying—**
**"Throw a brick, and you'll hit three Hollywood industry people."**
Whether they're actors, writers, directors, or something else depends on the area.
Perhaps, the waiter currently serving customers at a restaurant could be Hollywood's next big star. Of course, most will fade into obscurity, just another face in the crowd.
Returning his gaze, Anson turned and entered Ralph's. He bought two cases of mineral water and was pushing a cart out when the Nokia in his pocket began to vibrate—
Pulling out his phone, Anson couldn't help but feel a little happy. He still remembered envying his classmates' Nokia phones back in middle school. In the early 2000s, owning a Nokia meant you were at the cutting edge of fashion. Now, those memories were flooding back.
The caller ID showed it was Chris.
Anson was about to answer when he heard a commotion ahead—
"No! I already told you, no! I don't want to!"
It was…Scarlett, back again.
And that furious young man from earlier.
At this moment, the young man was trying to grab Scarlett's arm, but she resisted, yanking her arm away. Yet the young man didn't give up. With a quick step, he blocked her path, standing firm like a wall, his eyes burning with anger.
Scarlett raised her hand and shoved the young man.
But her strength was no match.
Right now, Scarlett was far from being Black Widow—
The young man didn't budge, suppressing his rage as he barked, "You don't get to decide."
"Now, you have two choices: either come with me quietly, or I'll force you to leave with me. Scarlett, the choice is yours."
**Is that even a choice?**
Anson strode forward quickly, his head held high. Without hesitation, he called out from a distance, "Stop! Didn't you hear what this girl said? She's already refused you; there's no need for you to keep harassing her."
At the same time, Anson looked at Scarlett. "Are you okay? Do you need me to call the police?"
The young man didn't give Scarlett a chance to respond. He shot her a fierce glare, warning her to keep quiet, then turned to Anson.
"You'd better turn around and walk away right now, mind your own business."
As he issued the warning, the young man clenched his fists and began walking towards Anson.
Dear readers, as a new author in the entertainment industry, I humbly ask for your support! Being new is tough, and starting a new book is even tougher. Please don't just stockpile chapters, I beg for your bookmarks and follow-ups!