I Choose You. Kristina O'Grady

      Brian ignored her babbling. She supposed he must be used to people making absolute idiots of themselves in front of him.

      “I’ve spoken to Rosie,” he said. “Several times these last few weeks in fact. She is, shall we say, uncertain this is the role for you. But…I’d like you to have a look at it yourself before you make your final decision.”

      “What? Oh ouch.” She’d raised her head from her hands so fast she cracked her head on the wall behind her. “You talked to Rosie?” she asked as she rubbed her head.

      “Several times, yes. Hasn’t she told you?” He paused for a moment and then said, “I was afraid of that.”

      Helga pushed down the acid of betrayal and forced herself to speak calmly. “Could you tell me a little about the role?”

      Over the next ten minutes Helga focused on the words Brian was saying. Excitement rushed through her veins as he described the character he want her play. It was gritty and deep, nothing like she’d ever played before. It was the total opposite of the blonde sex symbol she portrayed in every movie.

      She couldn’t sit still and longer. She got to her feet and paced back and forth in front of the side table, walking as far as the phone cord would allow. It wasn’t the first time she regretted her vintage telephone.

      The more Brian talked, the more comfortable Helga became. Soon she was firing questions at him. The more he answered, the more she had to have the part.

      “This role was written with you in mind,” he said just before he hung up. “I hope you decide to accept it.”

      In the excitement, she’d almost forgotten.

      Helga’s hand shook as she hung up the phone. Her heart raced in her chest, her breath fast. The emotions running through her body clashed against each other: elation filled her up so much her feet barely touched the ground, but the anger was like nothing she had ever experienced before.

      Her agent, Rosie Haul, had turned him down. What was going on? What was she thinking? How could she do that? Had she even asked Helga what she wanted to do? No. In six weeks of Brian trying to convince Rosie that Helga was perfect for the part Rosie hadn’t breathed a word about it. Not. One. Word.

      She couldn’t understand it. You don’t just not mention that Brian Hargrave wants you in a film. And it wasn’t as if Rosie could have forgotten that Brian had called her: he’d called her at least two times a week since he sent the manuscript over. She’d said no. Twice. Every week.

      Helga went into her living room and sat down in her favorite red armchair. This couldn’t be happening. Her blood started to pound in her temples. She rested her head against the back of her chair.

      The tabloids were eating her alive at the moment, her films were a flop. It seemed like the whole world had forgotten the good old days when she had starred in films like Love’s Crazy Ammunition, Rockabilities and The Love Thief. Now all they wanted to talk about was how crap she was at acting, Box-office bombs and her disastrous love life.

      She was ready to throw it all in, give up and disappear. Maybe head off and buy a little place in the mountains. She didn’t want to, but she could feel the wall at her back and there was nowhere else to go.

      But Brian Hargrave had handed her a lifeline with his offer. She knew she’d never get another chance like this again. Why had Rosie said no? Why hadn’t Rosie told her?

      This was the absolute last call. Helga needed to take a risk. She needed to get her name back up there at the top or she might as well toss in the towel now and call it quits. But she wasn’t going down without a fight. Not yet.

      She got up and paced around the room. Red-hot anger wouldn’t let her contemplate anything but the drive to her agent’s office to hash it out with Rosie face to face. Helga glanced at her watch as she quickly shoved her feet in her sneakers, not caring if she flattened the back of her shoes; she had plenty of shoes. She was halfway to her door before she remembered she’d left her car keys in the kitchen. Cursing, she jogged back to get them and shoved them in her pocket. Before she left, she called down to the front desk to see if Brian’s package had arrived. The receptionist told her it had and asked if she would like it sent up. After telling the receptionist she’d pick it up on her way out, she slammed her front door and ducked around the corner to the stairwell, bypassing the elevator. The contraption was so slow it was often quicker to run down the stairs. Besides, that way she didn’t have to go to the gym. It was just one of the perks of living on the top floor.

      By the time she made it down to the underground garage she was panting. The exertion should have worn off the edge of her anger, but she was still seething. Throwing her sunglasses on, she spun her tires and her car screamed out of the parking garage. Helga paused only long enough to find a break in traffic before swinging into her lane. She may have been angry but she wasn’t stupid. She didn’t want to cause an accident.

      She looked at her watch again. She had fifteen minutes before she knew she agent would leave for the day. Alarm bells should have gone off in her head when Rosie had started to leave the office every day at exactly five o’clock. What kind of ambitious career driven woman did that?

       Exactly.

      Rosie was incredibly hard to get a hold of outside of office hours as well, which made being on the road for work extremely difficult. Things had sure changed since Rosie married ten months ago.

      Somehow Helga managed to find a parking space right outside the door. HAUL AGENCY shone in gold letters above the doorway.

      Haul Agency was a very successful company. Its offices rose in glimmering glass above the asphalt. When Helga had first signed with the company, Rosie had run it out of her home office. Rosie was successful because Helga was successful. Of course, Rosie now had more clients and more agents working with her, but Helga had always been her bread and butter. Betrayal stabbed Helga in the chest again. That someone whom Helga trusted could do this to her and her career hurt. She shoved the ache away and embraced the anger.

      She stalked up the steps, hitting the lock button on her key ring before entering the building. The muted cheep letting her know her silver Audi R8 would be safe until she returned.

      The glass doors whooshed out of her way when she approached the entrance. She stormed past the cream reception desk and the security post next to it. Bruce the security guard smiled and waved at her. She nodded and threw him a smile that probably looked more like a grimace, and kept going. Poor man, he was really nice and it wasn’t his fault his boss was an idiot, but she didn’t trust herself to make pleasant conversation at this particular moment.

      She scowled at herself in the mirror covering the short hallway to the elevators. She managed – just – to refrain from picking up on of those God-awful snake plants Rosie favored from the long black table along the wall and hurling it into the gilded mirror. She would love to see thousands of shards of glass explode into the pristine environment. It would suit her mood exactly.

      But she didn’t want to give the cleaners extra work. If Rosie had to clean it up…well, she probably wouldn’t have been able to help herself.

      She pressed the UP button when she reached the elevators. She didn’t have to wait long. The doors slid open with a soft ping then the lavish interior filled with Bruno Mars’ latest song and, despite herself, Helga felt herself relaxing.

      It smelled like lavender and in a flash she remembered a conversation she’d had with her agent when Rosie was setting up this office.

      “I read in a magazine that soft music and certain smells can relax clients,” Rosie had said while she lounged on the couch in her home. “In my business, my clients aren’t always stress-free, in actual fact, as you well know, Helga, this is a stressful business. I need all the help I can get.” Rosie had smiled then and sat up, fishing around in her satchel. “I have samples. Will you help me pick a smell?”

      Emotion stabbed Helga in the chest and she was grateful when the elevator doors