The Curvy Voice Coach and the Billionaire Actor (He Wanted Me Pregnant!) (9 page)

He gave me a doubtful look, but carried on. I could feel the anger and disappointment bubbling away inside me, rising higher and higher. But that was crazy! He didn’t owe me anything. We weren’t going out . He could see—and bed—anyone he pleased.

“What?” he asked, seeing the look on my face.

“Nothing,” I said again. Then, before I could stop myself, “It’s none of my business.”

Now he tossed his script onto the table and folded his arms. “
What’s
none of your business? What did I do?”

I felt myself color at that. Now I was going to have to explain, and I’d sound like a complete loon. I took a deep breath. “I was...
surprised
to see you with Laura Pagonetti. That’s all. I didn’t know you two were an item.”

He looked at me blankly and then smiled. “We’re not. Maury arranges that stuff for me. He talks to her people and they set it up. It’s a photo opportunity for the press. She has a new movie coming out.”

I frowned. “But she was sitting on your lap!”

He shrugged. “That’s the way this stuff works. We drive the rumor mill. The rumor mill gives us publicity. It’s like a deal...a deal with the devil, maybe.”

I looked doubtful.

He sighed. “Remember I had that thing a few months back with Isla Caconazi?”

I nodded. “Secret liaisons in her hotel room.”

He smirked. “You want to know what we did in her hotel room?”

I felt ill. “Not particul—”

“We played
Mario Kart
and ate pizza. It’s just a stunt, Charlotte. We know it’s not real. The gossip sites know it’s not real. The only ones who buy it are the public.”

I bit my lip. It should have made me feel better, but in some ways I felt worse. Now I knew why he’d remained a bachelor. It made for a better story. “Don’t you ever get sick of doing what Maury tells you?” I asked.

He looked a little uncomfortable. “Maury works for
me
,” he said. But he didn’t sound entirely convinced. I thought about how Maury had talked about the screen test—almost as if he hadn’t wanted Tanner to do it, and certainly as if he didn’t expect him to get the part. Did Tanner know that was how he felt? It seemed totally disloyal…but the last thing I wanted was to get between the two of them. He’d known Maury a lot longer than he’d known me.

“But you’re spending your time faking all this stuff,” I said gently. “You remember what I thought, when I first arrived—that you were secretly in the closet? This isn’t all that different.”

He opened his mouth and closed it a few times. “It’s completely different!” he said at last.

“It isn’t! You’re mortgaging your happiness. You should have a life outside of work, but you’re spending yours pretending, faking it with stars just to boost your ratings!”

His breathing had sped up. His hands were bunching into fists. “So?”

“So when do you get time for yourself? When do you get to have something...real?”

He took a single step towards me. “Well, I’ll
take that under advisement
.”

He sounded mad with
me.
What had I done, except point things out? We stood there glaring at each other. “Let’s get back to the script,” I said at last.

We flipped through to his next scene, another of his character’s secret meetings with the woman he really loved, Annabel.

“Take it from, ‘Thomas, you can’t….’” he said. He was looking at me with something a lot like frustration. Had I really pissed him off, by pointing out how unfair his life was? I was only trying to help!

“Thomas,” I began. “You can’t play games with people’s hearts! Christina loves you and she thinks you love her! Leaving her now will destroy her!”

Tanner took a step towards me, until we were only inches apart. “Damnit, woman, I can’t control the way I feel!”

Looking up into his eyes, I could see the passion flaring there. He was either a very, very good actor or—

Idiot. Of course he was a very good actor. Of course it looked real. And he’d even managed to get some conflict in there too, some inner turmoil. He’d get another Academy Award for this.

I glanced at the script. “Sometimes,” I said, “we have to make sacrifices. It doesn’t matter how we feel.”

“How
we
feel? So you feel the same way!” He put a hand on my cheek, just as it said in the script. “I love you, Abigail!”

I could feel the heat from his hand throbbing through my entire body. “Very good,” I said, trying to keep my voice level. “Except you fluffed her name at the end. It’s ‘Annabel.’”

He held his hand on my cheek for a second longer and then dropped it. “What did I say?” he asked, turning away.

“Abigail.”

He shook his head wryly. “The last movie I did, the heroine was called ‘Abigail.’ I’m lousy with names. I’m always one movie behind. I’ll get it right by the time we start filming.

I nodded. And then it clicked.

Abigail.
You’re my Abigail.

He’d meant
You’re my Annabel.

I drew in a huge, shuddering breath. Suddenly, the night before made a lot more sense.

Tanner turned at my gasp. “You okay?” he asked.

I stared up at him. He’d come home, drunk, after faking it all night with a movie star. He’d come to my room and
declared his feelings for me.

“Um,” I said, playing for time.

Suddenly, it all made sense. I’d politely said goodnight and closed the door in his face. That’s why everything was different this morning—we were back to being just friends.
Because he thought I’d turned him down!

I could feel my eyes bulging in horror. What had I done?! For some reason, against all logic, Tanner had made a move on me...and I’d spurned him! I had to say something. I had to tell him he’d got it all wrong, that I’d been fantasizing about him the whole time. I opened my mouth—

“What?” asked Tanner, hopefully.

All my fears and insecurities rose up inside me. It was utterly ridiculous. It couldn’t be true. What if I was wrong? If I was wrong, I was going to look like the most pathetic, delusional woman on the planet. This was
Tanner Cole,
for God’s sake, the billionaire actor
everyone
was hot for. I could see exactly how it would look. Big girl gets to work with heartthrob for a week and convinces herself he’s fallen for her. Best case scenario: he’d gently put me straight and I’d go home in tears. Worst case scenario: he’d tell someone, and the story would get out and the world would know about the plus-sized voice coach who’d misread the signals.

I closed my mouth again. “Nothing,” I squeaked.

***

Tanner went out for lunch, saying he wouldn’t be long. Probably off for a salad, a steak and a peck on the cheek from some actress, making sure they were just public enough to be photographed, while still trying to look as if they were hiding.

I was still turning it over and over in my mind. Another horrible possibility had occurred to me. What if Tanner
had
been making a pass at me, but it was just that— a pass. It didn’t matter that he’d compared me to Annabel. Whatever he’d said may have just been to get me into bed. For all I knew, he did this with all the women who worked for him. That was his reputation, and he’d been drunk…maybe he’d come home drunk and horny and thought he’d try his luck with the big girl sleeping in his mansion.
He must have been stunned when I turned him down,
I thought bitterly. I’d probably bruised his ego.

What if that
was
the case...would it have been so bad? Just before he’d called my name, I’d been fantasizing about fucking him. Would a one night stand really be the worst thing in the world? Sex with a gorgeous billionaire?

I already knew the answer. I didn’t want that because, hot as the fantasy was, in reality I didn’t want to be treated like that. I didn’t want it to just be a one night thing, and have to go back to work in the morning and pretend it hadn’t happened. I wanted something real.

***

Tanner was as quick as he’d promised. Only an hour after he left, he was back. “Okay,” he said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s get back to it.”

I stared at him.

“What?” he asked.

I kept staring. The polished black shoes were normal Tanner. The sharp suit with the white shirt and expensive red tie was normal Tanner. But perched on top of his head was a tiny cone of cardboard, secured under his chin by an elastic loop. A party hat. A
kid’s
party hat.

He followed my gaze and looked up, then smirked. “I promised I wouldn’t take it off,” he said. “For at least an hour. Sorry. You’ll have to live with it. I keep my promises.”

I blinked. “Who did you—”

“Sam. My nephew. I was at his birthday party.”

I looked at him, amazed. “You have—”

“People do have brothers and sisters, y’know. And they have kids. So, yeah. Nephew.”

“I just thought—”

“You thought I spent my life rolling from bar to strip club to casino to starlet’s hotel room?”

“No! Yes. I mean, I get that it’s exaggerated for the press, but...you
do
still do that stuff, right?”

He looked at me seriously. “Apart from the dating. I haven’t been on a
real
date in a long time.” He stared at me as he said it.

I gulped. “But you do the rest. The drinking and the gambling and—”

“I never claimed to be a saint, Charlotte.”

“No! I know! That’s my point. I know you’re not a saint. That’s why I didn’t picture you as an uncle. Not one who goes to birthday parties.”

He moved a little closer and I felt something inside me crackle and surge, energy shooting all the way down to my toes. “You said my life didn’t leave time for anything real. I guess this is a substitute.”

I frowned, amazed. “You
want
kids?!”

“Is that bad?”

“No! It’s just not…bad boy.”

He laughed. “Bad boy? So because I have a good time, I can’t want to be a dad?” He studied me. “You like to put everyone in boxes, don’t you?”

I flushed. “No!”
Yes.
“I just couldn’t see you as being all...white picket fence in the suburbs.”

He shrugged. “Neither could I. But a big place in the country, maybe somewhere with a slower pace...I could see that.”

“Who with? I mean, where does all the fake stuff lead?” I swallowed. “Does Maury eventually matchmake you with another star and you have kids with her?”

“No.” He looked at me, suddenly serious. “It’d be with someone real.”

There was silence for a second. Then he smiled ruefully and turned away, and I suddenly realized that had been my chance to say something and I’d blown it.

“I’m thinking Apollo for the first one, if it’s a boy, and Tinkerbell if it’s a girl,” he said.

“Apollo and Tinkerbell? No, you can’t! God, school would be hell for them! Pick something more—” His shoulders were shaking. “Wait,” I said. “You’re mocking me, aren’t you?”

He turned around, laughing. “Apollo and Tinkerbell?” he asked between snorts. “Seriously?!”

***

That afternoon, we worked on his gestures. The first thing I did was to stand him on a chair.

“I feel like a jerk,” he said.

“It’ll stop you moving about. You pace a lot. You have too much energy.”

“You sound just like my mom.”

I smirked. “We need to calm you down a little, if you’re going to pass for a lord. Lords let everyone else come to them. Imagine your feet are made of concrete. In the scene at the ball, you only want to turn around to talk to someone if they’re more important than you. Otherwise, make them walk around to your front.”

He gazed down at me. “And this is how gentlemen behave? This is what you find attractive?”

I flushed. When he put it like that, it sounded bad. A lot of it
was
rude.

“Or is it okay because, in your fantasies, you’re one of the ladies, so you’re up there with the lords and you don’t have to bow and scrape to anyone?”

My eyes went wide. I couldn’t believe he’d said
fantasies.
What if he suspected that the person I’d been fantasizing about most was him?

“Relax, Charlotte. I’m kidding.”

I swallowed. “I knew that.”

He stared at me. “But you know, you
are
a lady. Someone should treat you like one.”

I flushed. “Let’s move on.”

***

We worked through the afternoon, his accent gradually improving. He was already good enough to fool an American. Another few days and he’d be able to fool a Brit.

And then it would be over. I’d head back to London and the only time I’d ever see him would be on a screen.