The Best Movie Actor In Hollywood!

Chapter 391

Christmas was approaching, which in Johannesburg meant the hottest time of the year. The sun scorched the earth under an oppressive heat nearly intense enough to drive a person mad. The ground shimmered, steaming as if it were on fire. The highway was nearly deserted of people, with only cars racing back and forth. Not a single cloud marred the sky, but a gray haze, like a low-hanging fog, blanketed the city, leaving everyone with a suffocating sense of discomfort.

"Damn this weather!"

Matthew opened his umbrella, carving out a small patch of shade for himself, when a mosquito suddenly zipped past. The frantic buzzing of its wings seemed to stir the only semblance of a breeze in the stifling air.

It felt as if five minutes outside made you sweat for two hours straight.

Matthew deeply regretted not taking a car, even though his hotel was less than a five-minute walk from Charlize's building.

Though he was standing in Johannesburg, his mind was still on a Northern Hemisphere schedule, instinctively expecting the chill of winter.

Entering the building, Matthew checked in at the reception desk and took a private elevator straight to the penthouse. The entire top floor belonged to Charlize.

The elevator stopped and the doors slid open. Matthew saw Charlize standing directly in front of him, her arms crossed.

"Hey," Matthew greeted her as he stepped out of the elevator, then immediately asked, "Where's the bathroom?"

Charlize turned and gestured. "That way."He crossed the vast living room and ducked into the restroom. He'd gotten so overheated outside that even relieving himself felt like releasing steam.

When he emerged from the bathroom, Charlize was waiting with a towel. Matthew gratefully wiped the sweat from his face and then took a long drink of the water she offered, the coolness instantly making him feel better.

"This heat is killing me," Matthew grumbled, handing the towel back to her.

Charlize took the towel and said, "You're not the only one."

She looked him over and asked, "What are you doing in Johannesburg?"

Matthew sat down on the sofa. "I came to see you, darling."

"Liar," Charlize said, not buying it for a second. "There's no way you came all the way to South Africa just to see me."

Of course, he hadn't come just to see her. He answered truthfully, "The UNHCR is holding a conference on African refugees here in Johannesburg soon. Have you heard about it?"

Charlize nodded. "I know. The meeting is being held in South Africa because of Mandela."

"I'm attending that conference," Matthew admitted, deciding to stop beating around the bush. "I was coming to Johannesburg anyway, and since you were here, I thought I'd stop in."

"Are you trying to become a UN ambassador?" she asked. She knew Matthew was angling for some kind of title with the UN.

In fact, she was doing the same thing, but with UNICEF.

Matthew took another deep breath of the cool air, feeling the burning sensation in his chest finally fade. "Actually," he corrected, "I'm already a Goodwill Ambassador for the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees. The official appointment came through this past Monday."

Charlize lifted her chin slightly. "Helen's efficiency is astonishing."

"She's been working on this with the UN for a while now," Matthew explained, not hiding anything from her. "Over a year."

Helen had been flying back and forth to New York for over a year. The final push took an intense two weeks, but she finally sealed the deal, managing to edge out Angelina Jolie for the UNHCR ambassadorship.

Matthew remembered Charlize was pursuing something similar. "So, what's the latest with your children's fund initiative?"

Charlize shook her head slightly. "No news yet."

She asked, "Are you going to speak at the conference?"

"I am," Matthew said, relaxing back into the sofa cushions.

"Don't you need to prepare?"

In response to her question, Matthew tapped his temple. "Helen prepped a speech for me before I left. It's all up here."

"Matthew," Charlize said, her tone growing serious. "I truly hope you're going to do something meaningful for the refugees in Africa."

"I'll do my best," Matthew replied vaguely, not wanting to lie to her. "But one person can only do so much."

Charlize could only shake her head and sigh at his response. They weren't just a couple; they were good friends. She knew him well enough to understand that he'd pursued the goodwill ambassadorship for the career boost and public prestige, not out of a genuine desire to help refugees.

"Even so," Charlize added, "if you have the power to help, you should."

Matthew smiled. "Of course."

As a UNHCR Goodwill Ambassador, it wasn't just about giving speeches. He could also make sizable donations and, when the time was right, host a few charity auctions.

Hollywood was full of such charity auctions. The attendees all had their own agendas, and a good chunk of the funds raised often went to "administrative costs" or other purposes. Still, some of the money always made it to the intended cause, and some people were genuinely helped.

Issues on the scale of Africa's—especially war and refugees—couldn't be solved with donations alone. Even someone like him, who knew next to nothing about politics, understood the problems were deeply complex.

Take Mandela, for instance. As much as Charlize admired him, he was both praised and criticized on the world stage, and his critics were just as vocal as his supporters.

Matthew and Helen’s goal in securing the goodwill ambassadorship was simple, and neither had any intention of wading into actual politics. It was all about elevating his public profile, burnishing his reputation, and building the necessary capital for his ascent to superstardom.

After they had talked for a while, Charlize gave Matthew a tour of her two-story penthouse. The apartment, which spanned the top two floors of the building, was enormous. In her study, Matthew saw a carved gold brick inscribed with her name. It had been a gift from South African President Mbeki after she won the Best Actress Oscar, a token of recognition for the honor she had brought to her country.

It was a testament to the weight an Oscar carried; it was easy to see why so many actors and actresses went to such great lengths to win one.

Standing before the glass case that housed the gold brick, Matthew studied it for a moment before asking Charlize, who stood behind him, "Are you planning to settle down in Johannesburg for good? Not go back to L.A.?"

Charlize stepped forward to stand beside him, a small smile on her face. "This is my hometown."

She paused for a moment before adding, "Of course I'm going back. My career is in Hollywood, after all. I've landed the lead in a Warner Brothers film, In the Valley of Elah. I expect to be back in North America by February to start prepping for it."

Matthew knew of the project, as Skydance Pictures had worked with Warner Brothers before. The script was based on the true story of a retired veteran investigating the death of his son after he returned from serving in Iraq.

It wasn't a commercial blockbuster but an awards-season contender. Charlize was clearly aiming for another Oscar run.

Matthew considered this for a moment. "If you're going for another Oscar," he said, "you'd better have a big campaign budget ready."

Charlize just nodded.

****

After dinner, Charlize made no move to show him out, and Matthew had no intention of leaving. So, when it was time to sleep, they naturally ended up in the same bedroom.

They were both adults, and they'd been intimate more than enough times to dispense with any pretense. Sex between them was uncomplicated.

The next day, the Johannesburg weather was considerably cooler. Charlize played tour guide, driving Matthew around the city.

The largest city in South Africa, nicknamed the "City of Gold," was the heart of the country's gold mining industry.

According to Charlize, a white man named J. Harrison had been walking across a farm north of Johannesburg when he stumbled over a rock that turned out to be a gold nugget.

The discovery prompted a gold rush, drawing prospectors from all over the world. As their numbers swelled, the settlement of Johannesburg was born.

Today, a statue of Harrison stands over the road leading from Johannesburg International Airport to the city center.

Charlize’s four bodyguards, their pistols loaded, were with them for the entire tour. Much like certain cities in the United States, Johannesburg had a notoriously poor security situation; it was even known as one of the most crime-ridden cities in the world.

Unemployment in South Africa was as high as forty percent, with the vast majority being unskilled and poorly educated black citizens. The local wisdom was that even seemingly harmless children and teenagers playing soccer on the roadside could turn into robbers in the blink of an eye, pulling guns and knives from under their shirts at the sight of a white tourist.

Matthew was in Charlize’s car, crossing a road that bordered a black township, when he heard the distinct sound of gunshots.

Witnessing firsthand how precarious the security situation was, Matthew quickly lost his enthusiasm for sightseeing. He and Charlize simply returned to the safety of her luxury apartment.

Later that evening, Matthew got a call from Helen. He returned to his own hotel to make the final preparations for the upcoming conference.