Laila's father was brilliant at managing people and winning their loyalty. But compared to him, the Golden Globes' organization fell far short. Their appeal simply couldn't compete with hers. Any smart person would know where the better opportunity lies.
Was Michael a smart person? Absolutely. If he weren't, Laila wouldn't have spotted his potential at first glance.
"You're right, Michael. Here's what you can tell them: as long as you come to work for me, I'll cooperate with them to help neutralize the public backlash. Not a bad solution, don't you think?"
Michael found her proposal almost perfectly tailored to the situation. The Golden Globes certainly valued his abilities, but in their eyes, he was ultimately dispensable. If he hadn't happened to be good at negotiations, they wouldn't have sent him for this job at all. If exchanging him could secure Laila's friendship and cooperation, they would gladly agree.
Yet… why did this leave him feeling so strange? His lips twitched, unsure how to respond.
"Thank you very much for your high regard!" After a long pause, that was all he could manage.
If she was serious, this outcome would please everyone involved: the Golden Globes paid nothing to resolve the issue, Laila got the talent she wanted, and he landed a better job. It was perfect.
So why did he feel so unsettled?
After the call ended, Laila left it to Michael to handle the Golden Globes; she only cared about eliminating any narrative that might damage her. She knew she could have bargained for more. But she didn't want to get too entangled with them. If her future success was bought through backroom deals, it would feel like humiliation, not good fortune. Keeping a respectful distance was wiser. Clearing the air publicly cost her little—and poorly handled, the fallout could hurt her too. Besides, she hadn't lost out; after all, she'd already started poaching their people.
She did not doubt that Michael would contact her again. If he truly was foolish enough to stay blindly loyal to the Golden Globes, then he wasn't worth recruiting anyway. She did not need fools.
Right now, online chatter about "Golden Globes Gender Discrimination" is everywhere. Any random forum was full of gossip. Many of the posts sounded plausible enough that casual readers might start believing them.
Having seen many such smear campaigns in the future, Laila easily recognized that someone was deliberately fueling the controversy. It could be rival organizations, or just people eager to kick the Golden Globes while they were down. Plenty of vultures were circling.
Laila didn't care who harbored grievances, but she knew the Golden Globes couldn't be allowed to collapse—not while her name was tied to the scandal. She had to step forward and redirect the public narrative.
So she arranged for an exclusive interview through her media outlets.
This was classic Laila: better keep the benefits in the family.
Once word got out that the boss herself was willing to give an interview, several subsidiaries under her media empire rushed to submit interview requests, desperate for the scoop. Everyone knew this was the hottest topic—any statement from one of the central figures would instantly go viral.
Her old partner, The Entertainer's Gazette, managed to snag the first interview slot.
The interviewer was her long-time associate, Anthony, who arrived armed with carefully selected questions gathered from other reporters and his list.
If they had tried to include every question submitted by journalists, the interview would've taken an entire day and night to finish.
"Director Moran, what's your view on the Golden Globes gender discrimination controversy?"
Having worked together for years, they quickly slipped into a smooth Q&A rhythm.
"As one of the people involved, I don't believe there was any gender discrimination involved," Laila answered without hesitation.
Anthony was surprised by her blunt dismissal. He had expected her to handle it more diplomatically, perhaps vaguely sidestepping the issue. If it were him, he would've seized this chance to make the Golden Globes feel indebted—it might ensure easier wins at future awards.
But by rejecting it outright, she was effectively closing that door. Anthony couldn't quite figure her out. She wasn't usually one to waste such opportunities. He was certain she saw the leverage this gave her, so why turn it down?
"Could you elaborate?"
Laila nodded. "Before I explain, let me first speak about Director Cameron and Avatar. The film is still in theaters and continues breaking box office records. Audiences love it; their ticket sales and enthusiasm are a constant, overwhelming endorsement. In such a situation, why wouldn't it deserve its awards?"
Anthony caught her meaning. "So you believe Director Cameron and his film fully deserve the Golden Globes and weren't given special treatment, correct?"
"Exactly. Every year during Hollywood's awards season, many excellent films emerge. They're all outstanding, making it difficult for judges to make a final choice. It's like picking the most beautiful flower from a bouquet—some prefer roses, others love lilies, and some adore sunflowers. But whichever flower is picked, can you say it's not beautiful?"
"It's the same with awards. The Golden Globe judges preferred Cameron's work this time. If it weren't for the coincidence that both I and Ms. Bigelow happen to be women, would anyone have brought up gender discrimination?"
Anthony pondered this, then asked a sharp follow-up: "So you're saying Director Cameron's film is better than yours?"
"No, no!" Laila waved her hands. "Like I said—it's about personal preference. Every director believes their work is the best, award or no award. The Golden Globes result only means their judges liked Avatar more. But look at other awards—there are plenty of people who prefer my film or Ms. Bigelow's film."
Although Anthony worked for the Moran family, he still knew how to ask questions that would attract attention—and didn't hesitate to continue:
"In your opinion, does gender discrimination exist in Hollywood? Have you ever personally encountered it?"