The Wolf of Los Angeles

[Chapter 22: The First Deal]

As night fell, Hawke started his car and turned onto Sunset Boulevard.

He had spent the day loitering around the gym in Brentwood with no leads to show for it. Now, he was heading to the Viper Room to see if luck would favor him there.

He parked on the side of the road and, finding it inconvenient to carry both his camera and video recorder, he carefully tucked them away. He pulled out a newly purchased Nokia 7650, snapping a quick photo, but the 300,000 pixel camera proved to be rather underwhelming. Back then, options for camera phones were quite limited.

Entering the bar alone, Hawke noticed it was still early and not too crowded inside. He made a quick round through both floors but did not spot Robert Downey Jr. anywhere. Finding a seat near the entrance that would give him a good view, he ordered a drink and patiently waited.

Suddenly, a commotion erupted at the door, as if a notable figure had just arrived. Hawke leaned in and caught sight of David Beckham smiling as he stood at the entrance. Even in a drought of British football talent, his charm captivated many. Over the years, with Victoria's meticulously crafted image, Beckham had become increasingly popular.

As Beckham stepped inside, the exterior noise vanished. This bar was a hotspot for celebrities, and rarely would anyone approach a star for an autograph. Young Beckham had shared the common affliction of UK players; he sidled up to the bar and ordered a large drink.

Hawke raised his glass and simultaneously stole a glance at Beckham. While others might see a star's charm and idol's glow, he saw opportunity and cash.

Many media outlets had reported similar stories: if Beckham's side hustle was infidelity, then Victoria's main gig was forgiveness, rinse, and repeat.

Soon after, another sports star that Hawke didn't recognize joined Beckham at the bar, animatedly chatting away. Hawke felt a strong urge to eavesdrop; discreetly, he slipped out of the bar through the fire exit, re-entering through the front door and seating himself close enough to Beckham to catch snippets of their conversation.

He overheard talk of a national team match day, and how Beckham was sidelined due to injury, yet had accepted Tom Cruise's invitation to Los Angeles for a series of events. The other man was identified as Miller Collins, a baseball star for the Dodgers.

The drinks flowed, and their conversation inevitably drifted into typical male banter -- namely, beautiful women. With money and good looks, it was enough to assume that Beckham wouldn't be content with just one Victoria.

Beckham mentioned a female model, sparking Hawke's curiosity, though the name never made it out. As the bar filled up, the buzz of conversation quickly drowned out their chatter.

Finally, around 8 PM, Hawke's patience was rewarded with the arrival of Robert Downey Jr. He sauntered in with a few companions ready to drink. The bar manager himself approached, delivering a fine bottle of wine.

Hawke instantly redirected his attention entirely to Downey, keeping a careful distance while he observed. The first opportunity he could pursue would depend entirely on Downey's behavior. If Downey simply brought a big bag of something along, that would streamline everything.

Less than an hour into drinking, Downey stepped away to take a phone call, leading his group to exit the bar. Hawke leisurely followed along.

The group split into two cars and a couple of motorcycles, heading east along Sunset Boulevard, while Downey's residence in Brentwood lay westward. Hawke jumped in his car and trailed behind.

Soon, he noticed another car and two motorcyclists following as well, likely freelancers from the media industry. Downey's vehicles didn't go far before they pulled into an underground parking garage of an apartment building, leaving the rest outside to wait.

Hawke parked at a distance, pulling out binoculars to observe. Los Angeles was a melting pot of stars and actors, and the wealth of news to dig through was abundant. After a while, with no luck, the crowd outside dissipated.

Technically, Hawke shared a career path with them, though he was in a league of his own. His primary target remained Downey. He maintained his watch from afar, his binoculars fixed on the garage exit.

...

Inside, a plump friend of Downey's closed the curtains and remarked, "Those idiots are gone."

Downey had changed his outfit and donned a hat before announcing, "I'm heading out now."

His other friend queried, "Can't she come over? Who the heck is she? You're so secretive, we can't even betray you."

"I can't spill the details to you loudmouths; I'm a married good man," Downey replied, admiring himself in the mirror with satisfaction. "While you guys drink here, I'll be back bright and early."

The plump companion advised, "Pick a low-key hotel; don't hit the big ones or you'll get busted."

Downey flashed a confident smile, leaving alone to head downstairs, climbing into a Lexus.

The garage exit flooded with light as the car turned onto the street. The moment it emerged, Hawke hit the gas and followed closely behind.

The Lexus slipped into the traffic flow of Sunset Boulevard, heading northeast, as a black Mondeo trailed stealthily behind.

Downey received a phone call while driving, saying, "Have you arrived? Just wait up for me a bit; I'll be there in ten minutes. Opening a room is something a man has to do; it adds a bit of ceremony."

A woman's voice came through the line, "Romantic Downey, my sweetheart."

Downey chuckled, "I've got a special gift for you, just wait."

After a sweet laugh, the line disconnected, and Downey's excitement surged; he accelerated.

Both he and his female counterpart had spouses, yet the thrill of their affair made them eager for the rendezvous.

...

Not too far behind, Hawke consistently kept the Lexus in sight.

When it veered off Sunset Boulevard and parked at a modest hotel, there was a bit of a line to get in, causing a brief wait.

The hotel was only seven stories tall, without a designated parking lot, so Hawke parked on the street, watching the vehicles at the entrance while dragging a bag from the back seat.

He moved quickly, shedding his casual attire in favor of a business suit and shoes, slipping on large, clear-framed glasses, and switching to a golden wig with a side part before grabbing a black briefcase.

Downey exited his car, tipping the valet before stepping through the hotel's revolving door, scanning the area until he spotted the woman waiting for him. He nodded and smiled, heading for the front desk to check in.

The woman was stationed at the seating area near the elevators.

Hawke entered the hotel's revolving door, noticing Downey in line and seamlessly making his way to the relaxation area while keeping a keen eye on Downey's movements.

He froze momentarily before quickly snapping his gaze away; he had spied Sarah Jessica Parker!

Wife of Broderick, Sarah Jessica Parker. Hawke had dedicated the past few days collecting intel; he was certain not to mistake her.

More importantly, he noticed that Sarah kept glancing toward Downey.

This was intriguing.

Hawke recalled that these two had shared a romantic history.

He sensed that his first business venture in Los Angeles was about to unfold.

And it promised to be a lucrative one!

*****

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