The Curvy Voice Coach and the Billionaire Actor (He Wanted Me Pregnant!) by Victoria Wessex
Authors: Victoria Wessex
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shorts and then eventually we get to swimsuits and bikinis. And the more of myself I have to show, the more scared I get.
And that’s why I liked living in a country where it rained 97% of the time.
But he was my client. What could I do?
“Fine,” I said. “We’ll work outdoors.”
***
He led me down past the pool to a maze of topiary and walled gardens that could have come straight out of an English stately home. The orange grove, though, was definitely Californian. I reached up and stroked an orange in wonder. “ Really?” I asked. “That’s so weird, to me. Oranges in your garden.”
“I juice ‘em for breakfast,” he told me. “You would have already had some, if you didn’t live on tea and toast.”
I was thinking about Maury. “Can I ask you something?
“Anything you want.”
I bit my lip. “Why do you want to do this movie so badly?”
He looked at me for a long time. The breeze blew a strand of hair across my face and he hooked it back behind my ear for me, the skin tingling where he’d touched it. “You noticed that, huh?”
I nodded.
He took a deep breath. “You know what’s coming out in two years’ time? I’m not supposed to tell you this because it hasn’t been announced yet, but: The End of the World III. Fifteen years after the first one. Playing off the whole anniversary thing.”
“Well…that’s good, right?”
“It is good. I’d a prick if I said it wasn’t good.” He waved his hand at the mansion. “All of this—this is from me wearing a vest and shooting guns and saving the girl. I don’t want to seem ungrateful. It’s an awesome way to make a living.”
“But?” I asked quietly.
He pressed his lips together. “I got into this because I wanted to act. To grow. To get better. I want to work hard, not just go through the motions.”
“You want people to take you seriously,” I said.
He looked, for the first time, embarrassed. But he nodded.
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” I said. “I admire that.”
“Maury thinks I’m a tool,” Tanner mumbled.
God, he actually felt bad about disagreeing with his agent! That was touchingly loyal, but— “What does Maury thing you should do?”
Tanner shrugged. “That thing with dinosaurs invading New York.”
I thought about it for moment. I didn’t know the intricacies of Hollywood, but I knew that agents took a percentage of what their clients made. Big, blockbuster popcorn movies meant more money for Maury. I wanted to kill the little weasel.
Tanner sighed. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. I’m sorry. I just—There’s no one I can really talk to about this stuff, you know?”
“Mr. Cole—”
“Tanner.”
“ Mr. Cole… .” My resolve was hardening. “If you want to get this part that badly, I’ll get you it. We’ll turn you into the most English flipping lord they’ve ever seen.”
He blinked at me. “ Flipping? Is that how the British curse?”
I blushed. “It’s how I curse. Now do you want the part or what?”
He looked at me, a smile touching his lips. “Yes. Yes, I want the part.”
“Okay then,” I said. “Let’s start with some voice exercises. And we need to work on your walk. You walk like…well, like a bad boy. Like James Dean.”
“Charlotte?”
“Hmm?”
“Thank you.”
***
After an hour, he was improving rapidly. We’d swapped the bad boy swagger for a ramrod-straight walk that hinted at a military past. And I was about to pass out from the heat.
Tanner looked at my blouse and jeans. “Before we go any further…you have got to get changed. You’re going to get heatstroke.
I shook my head.
He tilted his head to one side as if trying to figure something out. “Let me at least get you into the shade,” he said. At the end of the orange grove, a stone bench faced back towards the mansion, and the trees behind sheltered it from the sun. Tanner pointed me to it and we sat down. I sighed quietly in relief at
And that’s why I liked living in a country where it rained 97% of the time.
But he was my client. What could I do?
“Fine,” I said. “We’ll work outdoors.”
***
He led me down past the pool to a maze of topiary and walled gardens that could have come straight out of an English stately home. The orange grove, though, was definitely Californian. I reached up and stroked an orange in wonder. “ Really?” I asked. “That’s so weird, to me. Oranges in your garden.”
“I juice ‘em for breakfast,” he told me. “You would have already had some, if you didn’t live on tea and toast.”
I was thinking about Maury. “Can I ask you something?
“Anything you want.”
I bit my lip. “Why do you want to do this movie so badly?”
He looked at me for a long time. The breeze blew a strand of hair across my face and he hooked it back behind my ear for me, the skin tingling where he’d touched it. “You noticed that, huh?”
I nodded.
He took a deep breath. “You know what’s coming out in two years’ time? I’m not supposed to tell you this because it hasn’t been announced yet, but: The End of the World III. Fifteen years after the first one. Playing off the whole anniversary thing.”
“Well…that’s good, right?”
“It is good. I’d a prick if I said it wasn’t good.” He waved his hand at the mansion. “All of this—this is from me wearing a vest and shooting guns and saving the girl. I don’t want to seem ungrateful. It’s an awesome way to make a living.”
“But?” I asked quietly.
He pressed his lips together. “I got into this because I wanted to act. To grow. To get better. I want to work hard, not just go through the motions.”
“You want people to take you seriously,” I said.
He looked, for the first time, embarrassed. But he nodded.
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” I said. “I admire that.”
“Maury thinks I’m a tool,” Tanner mumbled.
God, he actually felt bad about disagreeing with his agent! That was touchingly loyal, but— “What does Maury thing you should do?”
Tanner shrugged. “That thing with dinosaurs invading New York.”
I thought about it for moment. I didn’t know the intricacies of Hollywood, but I knew that agents took a percentage of what their clients made. Big, blockbuster popcorn movies meant more money for Maury. I wanted to kill the little weasel.
Tanner sighed. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. I’m sorry. I just—There’s no one I can really talk to about this stuff, you know?”
“Mr. Cole—”
“Tanner.”
“ Mr. Cole… .” My resolve was hardening. “If you want to get this part that badly, I’ll get you it. We’ll turn you into the most English flipping lord they’ve ever seen.”
He blinked at me. “ Flipping? Is that how the British curse?”
I blushed. “It’s how I curse. Now do you want the part or what?”
He looked at me, a smile touching his lips. “Yes. Yes, I want the part.”
“Okay then,” I said. “Let’s start with some voice exercises. And we need to work on your walk. You walk like…well, like a bad boy. Like James Dean.”
“Charlotte?”
“Hmm?”
“Thank you.”
***
After an hour, he was improving rapidly. We’d swapped the bad boy swagger for a ramrod-straight walk that hinted at a military past. And I was about to pass out from the heat.
Tanner looked at my blouse and jeans. “Before we go any further…you have got to get changed. You’re going to get heatstroke.
I shook my head.
He tilted his head to one side as if trying to figure something out. “Let me at least get you into the shade,” he said. At the end of the orange grove, a stone bench faced back towards the mansion, and the trees behind sheltered it from the sun. Tanner pointed me to it and we sat down. I sighed quietly in relief at
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