The Wolf of Los Angeles

Chapter 39: The Big Softie

Hobart Hill Park

Jacqueline, dressed in jeans and sneakers, quickened her pace as she spotted Hawk and Edward. Reaching them, she threw her arms around Hawk, giving him a firm hug. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

Hawk stepped back with a composed smile. “It’s me who should thank you for the lead.”

Sitting down on a stone bench, Jacqueline said, “I saw the National Enquirer piece. My agent blamed that little b***h and ordered her to leave L.A. He said if she shows up again, he’ll have her dumped in Compton.”

“That’s harsh!” Edward, himself from Compton, winced. “A young, pretty white girl ending up there? That’s like something straight out of a San Fernando Valley film.”

Hawk cut to the chase. “I need your help with something else.”

Jacqueline, still feeling grateful, replied, “Anything I can do.”

“It’s simple,” Hawk explained. “You’ll need to pose as a pregnant woman to meet someone.”

Edward handed her a CD that Hawk had prepared in advance. “This has all the details. Watch it and practice.”

“How much for a full day of your time?” Hawk asked. “I’ll pay you the market rate.”

Edward’s eyebrows shot up. “Boss, you’ve got game? Wait, how do you even know what the daily rate is?”

Jacqueline chuckled. “I’m taking a break because it’s that time of the month... Let’s say $200 a day.”

Hawk handed her the cash and said, “It might take more than a day. Watch the CD first.”

Edward passed her a backpack filled with props.

Hawk added, “Inside are professional pregnancy disguises. Take them home and practice. Keep your phone on and wait for my call.”

Jacqueline nodded and left.

Once she was gone, Edward scratched his head. “Boss, why does this feel like we’re the shady villains in a Hollywood movie?”

Hawk smirked. “Who do you think’s stronger—us or Downey?”

“Obviously Downey.” Edward counted on his fingers but gave up halfway. “He’s probably a millionaire. Compared to him, we’re nobodies. Our only advantage is staying in the shadows.”

“Exactly,” Hawk replied. “If we’re not scared of being broke, why should we be scared of lurking in the dark like snakes?”

Edward grinned, his confidence restored. “You’re right. We broke nobodies don’t have anything to fear.”

The next day, Hawk called Cole to check on Downey’s schedule, further pushing the boundaries of his leverage.

Cole revealed that Downey would be visiting Tracy Gym that day.

Hawk then contacted Eric. “Hey, about that gym membership?”

Eric sounded sheepish. “Katherine found someone to help, but I got so busy writing that I forgot to tell you. Let me check with her.”

A few minutes later, Eric called back, asking Hawk to be at the gym by 3 p.m.

Not wanting to keep anyone waiting, Hawk drove to Westwood and parked near the gym.

At 3 p.m., Eric arrived in a Ford Bronco alongside a familiar figure: Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson.

Back then, The Rock wasn’t the box office titan he would later become.

Eric introduced them. Johnson offered Hawk a handshake and a friendly smile. “Eric’s been hyping you up the whole way here. Says you’re a genius at marketing films. Turned one of his doomed projects into a hit at Sundance.”

Hawk humbly replied, “Eric’s movie stood on its own merit. I just gave it the push it deserved.”

“No, no, no,” Eric interjected. “I picked the wrong material. Hawk brought it back to life.”

Johnson’s curiosity deepened.

Katherine, impressed with Eric’s directing talent, was fundraising for his next feature film. Johnson, wanting to network with potential collaborators, had volunteered to help.

“Let’s head inside,” Johnson suggested.

With Johnson leading the way, they entered Tracy Gym. Hawk and Eric both signed up for memberships.

Eric left shortly after, needing to focus on his screenplay, while Johnson guided Hawk through the gym.

In the locker room, VIP members had private changing areas, but Hawk, as a standard member, changed in the communal space.

Emerging in workout gear, Hawk’s physique caught Johnson’s attention. “Damn, buddy. You’re hiding some serious muscle under there.”

Hawk glanced at Johnson. “You’re smaller than I expected.”

“Hey, never tell a guy he’s small!” Johnson joked, glancing down. “Oh, crap. I forgot something important.”

He rummaged through his bag, pulled out a fresh pair of socks, rolled them into a ball, and stuffed them into his waistband.

The once-flat area now sported a pronounced bulge.

Hawk tried not to laugh. Seriously?

Johnson shrugged with a grin. “My PR team keeps hammering this home—image is everything. For my brand, I have to ooze masculinity.”

Then, flexing his biceps, he added, “Keeping this kind of muscle means taking certain supplements. Those kill... certain functions. Guys like me are just big softies.”

“You’re surprisingly candid,” Hawk remarked.

“Hey, as long as it works, who cares? It’s all about that moment of joy, right?” Johnson quipped, heading to the gym floor.

“You just nailed the secret to happiness,” Hawk replied, following him.

The gym was filled with personal trainers guiding their clients, some of whom were celebrities. Hawk spotted Jennifer Lopez and Hugh Jackman.

He didn’t see Downey yet, so he joined Johnson for warmups and weightlifting.

During a break, Johnson said, “Eric mentioned you ran a unique campaign. I’m intrigued.”

“No need to be modest—it worked,” Hawk replied.

“Did you focus only on his movie at Sundance?”

“No, I also helped a Brazilian director, Beto Bront, with Intruder,” Hawk explained. “It was an overlooked foreign film until we turned it into a media sensation.”

“I know that one,” Johnson said, impressed. “It won the Latin American Film Award at Sundance.”

Hawk smiled. The results spoke for themselves.

Johnson pondered for a moment before saying, “My first lead role hits theaters next month. Got any advice?”

“You mean The Scorpion King?” Hawk asked.

Johnson nodded solemnly. “It’s my first time headlining. If it flops, I’m back to wrestling.”

“My studio handles promotions,” Hawk offered.

Johnson, not one to pinch pennies, understood immediately. “The production team’s already handling my PR, but I’m planning to invest in my own campaign too.”

While chatting, Hawk finally spotted Downey arriving with Deborah. The couple, laughing and affectionate, looked nauseatingly unbothered by their past scandals.

Hawk kept his distance, observing discreetly.

After leaving the gym, Hawk checked the documents Johnson’s assistant had delivered and promised to draft a proposal.

Back in his car, Hawk noticed Downey’s lackeys loitering nearby.

Pulling out a burner phone, he called Cole. “Let me know if Deborah goes out alone.”

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