Charlize stood by the windowsill, lifting her right leg up and doing simple leg stretches while seated—one, then another. As she moved, she adjusted her breathing, each stretch executed with careful precision. Although she had left ballet due to a knee injury, it didn't mean she had stopped loving it. On the contrary, she still kept up the habit she had developed since the age of six. It wasn't just a lingering attachment to ballet; it also helped sculpt her figure.
At that moment, the phone on the wall by the kitchen door began ringing. The persistent ring echoed throughout the room. Charlize glanced back at the empty living room—clearly, no one else was planning to answer it. She couldn't help but call out loudly, "Tyra! Tyra! Get the phone!"
From the bedroom on the right came a tall, curvy Black woman who ran out on tiptoes. She complained to Charlize, "You're right here," but still cheerfully trotted over to the phone and picked it up. "Hello, this is Tyra Banks. Who am I speaking with?"
This woman named Tyra had striking features—her well-defined facial structure inherited the best traits of African descent, and her expressive eyes added a touch of sweetness. At that moment, she was simply wearing a white lingerie set, clearly showing off her figure's advantages.
Charlize had only met Tyra after moving to Los Angeles. Tyra was also a professional model. She had entered the industry in 1990, but over the past two years, her career hadn't taken off. Despite her outstanding natural looks, Black models were still rarely hired in the U.S., and racial discrimination remained unresolved. This left Tyra quite disheartened.
Since neither of their careers had taken off, they were forced to share a place and split the rent to ease their financial burdens. Tyra was usually cheerful and loved joking around. Though she hadn't known Charlize for long, they got along very well. That was rare—especially for two women in the same industry living under one roof without any backstabbing or toxic competition.
"Mhm... Yes, she's here... no problem..." Tyra responded on the phone while repeatedly casting playful glances at Charlize with a teasing smile. Charlize, who had planned to continue her practice, found Tyra's ambiguous gaze distracting and couldn't concentrate at all. She glared back, asking with her eyes, "What?"
Tyra pulled the receiver slightly away and, while looking straight at Charlize, deliberately shouted, "Charlie! Charlie, it's your call—from Mr. Hugo Lancaster... Charlie!"
Charlize got goosebumps all over from the way Tyra teased and called out to her. Furiously, she put her right leg down from the windowsill and also tiptoed over, snatching the receiver from Tyra's hand. But Tyra still grinned and said, "No need to rush, I was just about to give it to you." In response, Charlize kicked her. Tyra cried out, "Ouch, shy now?" and darted to the sofa, escaping Charlize's range, gesturing for her to answer the call.
Charlize didn't want to answer the phone under Tyra's watchful eyes—otherwise, she'd never hear the end of it after the call. But Tyra clung to the sofa and refused to leave. Charlize had no choice but to grit her teeth and stomp her foot before speaking into the receiver with a slightly irritable tone, "This is Charlize speaking."
That genuine tone startled Tyra, who had been enjoying the show. Just imagining the expression on the other end of the line had her rolling with laughter on the sofa. Usually, when girls answer a guy's call, they act a bit more ladylike. If it's a guy they like, their tone and rhythm often change noticeably. Charlize's raw response was definitely unique.
On the other end of the phone, Hugo was momentarily stunned by Charlize's tone, then chuckled, "Seems like I picked a bad time to call."
Charlize realized her tone had been a bit off. She glared hard at Tyra, but it was too late to suddenly switch to a gentler voice—that would be too fake. So, she just stuck to her usual tone and continued, since she hadn't hidden her true self when they first met anyway. "No, it's just that when your call came in, my roommate went nuts, thinking there's something between us, making faces at me."
Hearing her candidness, Hugo laughed again, "Maybe she doesn't believe men and women can just be friends."
"Or maybe it's because our daily lives are so boring that any little thing gets blown up into countless versions." Charlize couldn't help but smile. But Tyra's lovestruck expression on the couch was really getting on her nerves. She had to grab the phone cord and head into the kitchen—out of sight, out of mind. Still, Tyra's hearty laughter from the couch made Charlize's cheeks inexplicably hot: even something harmless was starting to seem suspicious thanks to her.
"Are you not working right now?" Hugo, holding the landline, walked from his nightstand over to the room's only window and sat down.
It was still the early 1990s. Though mobile phones had already hit the market, they weren't widely used. Not only were they still the classic brick-sized models costing over $4,500—far beyond most people's reach—but they also had poor signal reception, leading to bad call quality. That's why they hadn't been adopted on a large scale.
During Hugo's first week after traveling back, he found it very hard to adjust. Computers and the internet weren't widespread, and even phones were limited. It felt like being thrown back into the Stone Age. For people in the 21st century practically addicted to computers and phones, it was pure torture.
But human adaptability is always astonishing. In less than ten days, Hugo had already adapted. After getting used to a life without computers or mobile phones, Hugo now actually found it convenient. In particular, the landline phones didn't have radiation problems and wouldn't make his ears hot, which made Hugo very satisfied.
Charlize also leaned against the kitchen sink. "No. Not just today, but tomorrow and the day after that too, I have no work. Life in Los Angeles is so leisurely—it's something I didn't expect before I left New York." Her slightly teasing and self-deprecating tone made Hugo laugh involuntarily.
"In that case, that's great. I'd like to invite you to dinner. You won't have an excuse to turn me down now, right?" Hugo said with a cheerful smile.
Charlize pursed her lips slightly, a smile full of amusement on her face. "Hugo, is… is this a date?" Actually, when she agreed to give Hugo her phone number the last time they met, Charlize had already prepared herself mentally. But when Hugo hadn't contacted her for about a week, Charlize thought she had guessed wrong. Just as she was at the edge of disappointment, Hugo's call came, taking her by surprise.
Faced with Charlize's straightforwardness, Hugo suddenly realized that in Western culture, dinner dates were considered quite formal. But he hadn't felt that way at all—he simply wanted to invite Charlize out for dinner because of the agent matter. He didn't expect it would lead to this.
"If I say it is, would you say yes?" Hugo's rich, deep voice came through the receiver, making Charlize's heart flutter slightly and the smile on her lips reveal her delighted mood. Then Hugo added, "Of course, if you'd prefer that it's not, then it isn't—because I think what matters most is that you're willing to come out and have dinner with me."
Charlize was so amused by Hugo's teasing honesty that she burst out laughing. Perhaps it was because of the awkward misunderstanding the first time they met, so the two of them always had a relaxed and pleasant vibe in their conversations, lacking the usual caution between men and women.
"As long as I don't have to pay." Charlize said with a smile at the corners of her mouth, a playful gleam flashing in her eyes. As soon as she said that, the sound of stomping came from the doorway. Charlize looked up and saw Tyra anxiously stomping her feet on her behalf. Clearly, she was very dissatisfied with the reply Charlize had just given and was mouthing, "How can you talk about money with a date!"
At the same time, Hugo's warm laughter came through the receiver, blending with the golden sunlight pouring into the kitchen, like a cup of fragrant coffee slowly rising in steam. "Don't worry, I'll save the Dutch treat for our second meeting." This joke made Charlize laugh again, her silvery laughter scattering in the sunlight like countless rays of light.
"So, Pacific Dining Car, eight o'clock tonight—does that work?" Hugo continued. On the other end of the phone, Charlize quickly confirmed, "No problem. See you tonight." Then Hugo heard a burst of girlish giggling over the phone, which made him laugh as well.
At present, Hugo didn't have any friends in Los Angeles. Aside from Joseph, he didn't know anyone. The joy of successfully passing the audition for Scent of a Woman was something he had no one to share with. Although Charlize was someone he'd only met once, at least she was more familiar than a stranger, and they had gotten along quite well during their first meeting. So Hugo took the opportunity brought up by Carl Earle's matter to invite Charlize to dinner as a simple celebration.
On the other end of the phone, Charlize had just hung up when Tyra threw herself at her. "Sally! You're going to have dinner with Hugo—the super handsome guy! Sally, get him! Get him!"
Charlize couldn't stand Tyra's enthusiasm and said with a laugh and a sigh, "Tyra, are you sure the one having dinner with the handsome guy is me, not you?"
....
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