GreatCthulhu
Registered user
Global user
Registered: 01-2008
Posts: 35
Karma: 1 (+1/-0)
|
|
Reply | Quote
|
|
The Agent
She sat across from him and glared. Her hand reached into her clutch purse and removed the packet of cigarettes. She placed them on the table before her hand returned to the purse for her lighter. As she lit it she took delight in the pained expression on his face.
“You can’t smoke in here.” He said as he turned and opened the window. “Now, where were we?”
“I was after two percent.” She replied. He shook his head.
“No chance.” He said. “I mean, your boy is good, but he’s not worth two percent. I’ll give you…half a percent.” She took a drag from the cigarette.
“Half a percent, that’s not even enough to cover my expenses,” she mocked him. “Let’s say one percent…and your wife doesn’t get to see the pictures of your recent business trip to Capo Blanca with that pretty little secretary sitting in reception.” The blood seemed to drain from his face as the she slowly exhaled, releasing the smoke from her lips.
“What? How…?”
“Don’t make excuses, I’m sure that she’ll understand,” her words dripped with venom. “Once she’s taken the Mercedes, the kids and the house in the Hamptons.” He looked at her – and realised that she wasn’t bluffing.
“Okay, one percent it is.” He made a few notes on his desk pad. “I’ll have the contract drawn up and couriered to your office by the close of business.”
“Fantastic,” she said as she got up and walked out of the office. “It’s a pleasure doing business with you darling.”
The smog filled LA air was lifting and being replaced by hazy sunshine. It wasn’t actually a clear sky, but it was as close a thing to it as the inhabitants of the city usually experienced. Securing her sunglasses, Roberta “Bobbi” Wallace looked up at the clearing sky and smiled. Her cell phone was in her hand and dialling away as she finished off her cigarette.
“Troy, it’s Bobbi…I’ve managed to renegotiate your deal for Space Alien Invasion 3…No, no, there’s no need to thank me, my fifteen percent is thanks enough…Ciao baby.” She ended the call and dropped it back into her purse. She was hungry, and it had been a productive morning.
The glass of wine washed down the salad as Bobbi sat on the second row of sidewalk tables at the Garden Terrace restaurant on Sunset. She felt entitled to a minor celebration after renegotiating Troy Bellarosa’s deal on his latest dumb action flick – he was the latest in a long line of talent-less daytime soap actors that Bobbi was propelling into the stratosphere of movie stardom…even if some of them did go straight to DVD. What did she care; she still got paid after all.
Her pager beeped, which annoyed Bobbi as she was looking at the desert menu. Her vision strayed from the menu just long enough to gaze at the message. She read it twice before getting up from the table, dropping two fifty-dollar bills beside her plate.
The pager continued to beep at her before she shut it off. She saw the message once more – 911 – and it meant only one thing.
Trouble.
Aaron was scared – there was no other way to describe it. Icy fear was coursing through his veins as he tried to think of anything he’d missed. He picked up the portfolio and placed it on her desk along with a fresh cup of coffee.
The doors to the office flew open, acting like a tornado had struck them seconds before Bobbi strode into her office.
“Aaron, what the **** is going on?” Her question was barked out like an order. “What could be so important to page me while I’m having lunch at the Garden Terrace? You know how hard it is to get a sidewalk table there.”
“I know, I know,” Aaron replied as Bobbi stalked towards him. He felt like a deer in the headlights when she was in this sort of mood. “However, this was faxed across to our office this morning.” He held out a grainy photograph that Bobbi swiped from is shaking fingers. Despite it’s poor quality Bobbi could make out three figures entering a building on somewhere along West Hollywood Boulevard – the most relevant one to her mind was that of Candy Cane, all-American teen singing sensation and Bobbi’s single biggest client. Standing next to her was a person Bobbi could recognise regardless of the picture quality – Scotty Dorfmann, her main business rival.
“****!” she muttered as she looked at it. “That *****!”
“That’s why I paged you as soon as it arrived.” Aaron said, stepping aside as Bobbi walked around him to get to her desk.
“Who’s this other prick in the photo?” She asked, pointing to the third person. Aaron took another look at the picture.
“It looks like Yuri Zimmerman, the new VP at Western Records.” Aaron said.
“Get me a meeting schedule for this afternoon – I want to speak to Mister Zimmerman.” Bobbi said as she stood up and ushered Aaron out of her office. Once he was gone and the door secured, she opened a filing cabinet and removed a strong box from the bottom draw.
By the time Aaron had arranged the meeting with Zimmerman, Bobbi was storming into the offices of Michaels, Rogers and Platt. She headed to the elevator and ignored the security guard who was screeching something about needing an appointment. After she thumbed the button for the eleventh floor she took a moment to compose herself – she’d get one shot at this, and she had to make sure she did it right.
The doors parted and Bobbi stepped out in her grey trouser suit, oozing purpose as she approached the secretary who was sat behind the desk. If this were a nature film, this would be the part where the owl stares at the mouse as it scurries through the grass.
“Is Dorfmann in there?” Bobbi already knew the answer, however it wasn’t the girl’s fault that she was pissed.
“Er, yes, I’m sorry but you…” the secretary spluttered. Bobbi raised her hand as she breezed past her, through the door and slammed it shut behind her. Scotty Dorfmann looked up from computer terminal that he was engrossed in at the sound of the door rattling in its frame.
“It wasn’t enough for you to take my job,” Bobbi said as she walked up to his desk. “You had to take my old office as well and now I find out you’re trying to steal my clients.”
“Well, you have to admit that the view is great here,” Scotty replied, seemingly unfazed by Bobbi’s aggressive manner. “And your client was sorely in need of new representation.”
“Bull****.” Bobbi said as she came to a halt, dumping her bag onto the chair beside her. He was still sitting in his oversized chair with a dumb smile on his face as she felt her anger toward him rising. “You just want to get into her size zero pants.” Scotty pursed his lips and shrugged his shoulders.
“Hey, it wouldn’t be the first time,” he said. “Besides, I understand that Troy and you have a little something going on in the bedroom between shoots.”
“That’s just recreational,” Bobbi spat back. “You stay away from Candy Cane – she’s mine.”
“Not anymore.” Scotty chuckled with a smile that screamed at Bobbi. “And once she’s signed with me, I’ll start on the rest of your clients – in six months I’ll have everyone of them eating out of the palm of my hand.” That did it. Bobbi had bought the pistol along purely to threaten him with it – something to make him crap himself if things got too bad. However, that was all about to change.
“Screw you Scotty.” Bobbi said as she reached into her bag and pulled the gun out. Scotty laughed.
“What the **** are you going to do with that? Shoot me?” He said as he looked at it, noticing that the barrel was extended by something that looked like a silencer.
“Bingo ****wit.” Bobbi’s words were almost obscured by the soft coughing noise the pistol made as she pulled the trigger. The bullet hit Scotty in the head, his face registering a look of amazement in the fraction of a second it took the projectile to cover the couple of feet between them. Bobbi watched as Scotty slumped face down onto his desk – then she returned the gun to her bag and lit a cigarette.
|
|
2/10/2008, 5:42 pm
|
Send Email to GreatCthulhu
Send PM to GreatCthulhu
Blog
|
GreatCthulhu
Registered user
Global user
Registered: 01-2008
Posts: 35
Karma: 1 (+1/-0)
|
|
Reply | Quote
|
|
Re: The Agent
The secretary looked slightly stupefied as Bobbi left the office. She took another glance at the girl – young, inexperienced and vastly out of her depth. Several thoughts rolled through Bobbi’s head before she approached her.
“Hey, I’m sorry about my behaviour earlier,” it was her best smile that seemed to speak to the secretary. “But I think I’ve just cleared things up with your boss in there. How long have you been in LA?”
“Me? Er, about a month maybe?” The girl didn’t even know herself as Bobbi looked at her.
“I guess he doesn’t pay very well, right?” Bobbi already knew the answer to the question. “Look, why don’t you come and work for me? I’ll pay you fifty percent extra with full health benefits and four weeks paid leave.” The expression on the girl’s face was priceless.
“What? You’re serious?” Bobbi nodded. “When do I start?”
“How about right now?” The girl got up from her desk and picked up her coat.
“I should tell Mister Dorfmann,” she said as she moved towards the door of the office.
“Oh, I wouldn’t do that, Mister Dorfmann is just in the process of transferring a couple of his clients to me and he’s really busy,” Bobbi said as she skilfully diverted the secretary away from the door and towards the elevator. “I’ll get my assistant to give him the details later.” As the two women walked to the exit Bobbi flipped her cell phone open and dialled a number.
“Aaron, I wonder if you could be a dear and pop along to Scotty Dorfmann’s office to sort out…” she looked at the secretary. “What’s your name?”
“Jessica.” The answer made Bobbi smile.
“Yes, sort out Jessica’s resignation as well as clean up a few things…Excellent.”
Zimmerman looked at the photographs that were sprawled out across his desk. After shuffling through them several times he wiped the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief.
“I can’t think that Manny Deluca will be happy when he sees these,” Bobbi said as she sat on the edge of Yuri’s desk. “And I’d hate to see you get into trouble over what I’m sure really was just a naked foot massage…”
“What can I do to ensure that these pictures stay…private?” Yuri said between intakes of breath.
“Ooh, lets see,” Bobbi got up from the desk and handed him a small plastic portfolio. “One hundred percent of the profits on the image rights of Candy Cane, seventy percent of the tour revenues and a cast iron six album deal.”
“Jesus…” Yuri muttered, then glanced at the photos again. “Where do I sign?”
“On the dotted line.” Bobbi said. She watched his hand scribble his signature across the piece of paper. “Yuri, it was a pleasure doing business with you.” She placed the contract in her bag and almost skipped out of the office. She stopped as she reached the door.
“Oh, I forgot to mention that I’ve just taken over some of Scotty Dorfmann’s other clients – he’s decided to take early retirement, so I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other over the next few months. I do hope our negotiations will be as simple as this one was, I wouldn’t want to have to play hardball with you.”
|
|
2/10/2008, 5:42 pm
|
Send Email to GreatCthulhu
Send PM to GreatCthulhu
Blog
|
Add a reply
Link to us
- Blogs
- Hall of Honour
- Chat
|
You are not logged in (login)
Board's time is: 11/26/2009, 9:06 pm
|
|
|
