Chapter 17
Cal
Oh, great, thought Cal. His newest member of staff witnessing the wonder that is Elisabetta, on her second day on the job.
Not exactly the way to impress your employees.
Although why it mattered what they thought of his personal life, Cal wasn’t sure.
He wasn’t especially bothered what Kitty’s or Zack’s opinion was of his relationship with Elisabetta.
He’d kept it to himself, never talked about it, and that was it.
But something was bothering him today about Elisabetta turning up like this at the same time as Bea arriving early for her shift.
What was it? That she would think he brought relationship baggage to work?
That he’d appeared ruffled and out of control?
That Bea thought he associated with demanding and vacuous women?
Probably all those things. Bea should see him as the consummate professional, her in-control boss, and now it looked like he let his private and personal lives mix, like some sort of curdled cocktail.
One that, instead of giving you a good buzz, made you queasy and never want to go near it again.
Elisabetta appearing unexpectedly irked him.
He’d called her numerous times and she hadn’t returned any of his calls.
But now she chose to pop up at his workplace.
If she wanted to air her laundry in her workplace – the internet – that was her choice, but he liked to keep his personal life out of the bar.
‘What’re you doing here?’ Cal asked after he’d closed his office door and was certain nobody else could hear. Elisabetta was sitting on the chesterfield; he was leaning against his desk facing her.
‘I think you know why,’ Elisabetta said pointedly. ‘I’m sure you’ve seen the messages I’ve tagged you in.’
‘I’ve seen them.’
‘And you didn’t think to reply?’
‘Sorry, I didn’t realise that by tagging me in something that the entire world can read, it counts as a personal message. Were you expecting a response on your timeline or maybe a Tik Tok? I called you, Betta. So many times. I prefer to communicate using this.’ Cal pointed to his mouth.
‘There’s no need to get sarcastic, Cal.’ Elisabetta sounded a little choked; Cal was sure she was faking it. ‘Although it always was one of your strongest points.’
‘Aye, well, I can’t help it when I’m placed in some of the most ridiculous scenarios. So, are you going to tell me what’s going on?’ Cal refused to say the word ‘baby’. Elisabetta would need to be the first to say it. She’d been able to say it to the universe via the internet so far.
‘I’m having a baby,’ Elisabetta finally said.
Cal restrained himself from the impulse to feign surprise.
More sarcasm would not help this situation.
Playing the game the right way was important for getting straight answers.
After all, keeping quiet on social media had led to Elisabetta being forced to come here to see him in person for his reaction.
‘I’m aware,’ Cal said cooly.
‘And you might be the father.’
‘Might? Okay.’ This was news. Elisabetta was playing it as if she knew exactly who the father was but didn’t want to reveal it to the public so she could string along all potential dads as long as possible. But could it be that she didn’t know herself?
‘Yes, well, Cal, you need to understand that when we broke up – when you broke it off – I was heartbroken. And I did momentarily turn to someone else to help pick up the pieces.’
‘Right.’ Cal refrained from commenting that being so heartbroken shouldn’t have meant forgetting to ask the guy to wear protection.
‘And the dates…’ Elisabetta continued. ‘Well, I’m 80 per cent sure the baby is yours, but it could also be Tobermory’s and—’
‘Tobermory! You slept with a guy called Tobermory?’
‘Yes.’
‘Is he named after the whisky or the womble?’
‘After the place, Cal. It’s a family name.’
‘Okay. Just checking.’
‘What difference does his name make? There’s a new life coming into the world. All that matters is that it’s loved.’
‘Aye, I know that. So you’re here to let me know in person that I may or may not be the father of a baby that you already announced on social media and that I’ve already worked out may or may not be mine. What is this visit designed to add to the equation?’
‘Are you actually being this heartless?’
Cal shook his head in disbelief. He would never make her see she’d gone about this all the wrong way.
‘So you’ll be having a paternity test?’ he asked.
‘Um, yes, although...’
‘I’ll pay for it, Betta. We need to sort this.’
‘I’ve already told you, I’m 80 per cent sure.’
Cal was seething at what was happening. Elisabetta could easily take a paternity test to determine who the father of the baby was, but if she could string the whole thing out as long as possible then that would be her preference.
‘That’s not enough,’ he said. ‘If we can find out for 100 per cent now, then let’s do it. Then I can support you.’
‘I mean, it’s probably more like 85 per cent.
’ Elisabetta took her phone, opened an app and held the screen towards Cal.
‘You see, we had sex on this date.’ She pointed to a coloured grid Cal could barely make head nor tail of.
‘And then we broke up and I slept with Tobermory a day or so later, but I think I’d already ovulated by that point. ’
Cal glanced briefly at the bamboozling calendar of chaos before turning to the bigger issue. ‘Why are you logging the dates you have sex? Why do you have this app? Were you trying to get pregnant?’
Elisabetta was silent, but she didn’t need to say anything. That Cal was right was written all over her face.
‘I wasn’t exactly trying to get pregnant, but I figured that I may as well track things since I was in a committed relationship. I was always faithful to you, Cal.’
‘And I was to you, but that doesn’t make it okay that you came off the pill without my knowing. You came off the pill, right? That’s the only way this kid could be mine. Why are you dangling this in front of me but refusing to take a test to find out?’
‘I don’t want anything invasive, and what if it’s twins? You can’t do those tests if its twins.’
‘What? Is it twins?’ Cal was flabbergasted at the route this conversation was taking.
‘Not that I know of, but you never know. There could be one hiding behind the other.’ Elisabetta was twisting things any way she could.
‘I think we’re done here for now.’ Cal stood and walked to the door.
‘Please, Cal.’
‘I don’t honestly know what else I can do, Betta.
I’ll pay for the best paternity test money can buy.
If the baby is mine, I’ll support you. But you want me to dangle on a string for another six months.
I’m not coming shopping with you for Moses baskets or going to antenatal classes so you can post about it online. ’
‘You’d make a great dad, Cal.’
Cal exhaled. ‘Don’t.’ He knew Elisabetta was trying to twist things and appeal to his softer side.
He would make a good dad – and he hoped that one day he would become a father – but this was blatant manipulation.
Cal didn’t even know why she was so keen for them to stay a couple, anyway.
Besides physical lust, it was an empty relationship.
Sure, they’d gone to parties and dined at some of the finest restaurants, but they’d had no connection.
‘Okay, I won’t say any more.’ Elisabetta shrugged. ‘But the baby is yours, I’m sure of it.’
‘Eighty per cent,’ Cal reminded her as he opened the door. ‘You’re only eighty per cent sure.’ Then he was distracted by a flash of red. Bea coming out of the staff changing room. Damn!
‘I’m sorry we couldn’t resolve anything,’ he said to Elisabetta, maybe trying a little too forcedly to give their conversation the cover of a business meeting. ‘Perhaps if you go away and analyse those figures again, then we can talk further.’
But Elisabetta was no fool. She spotted Bea, too, clocked that Cal was putting on a front and remarked to him that she wasn’t one of his business deals. Bea then disappeared back into the bathroom and Cal was left wishing he could sink into a giant bottle of whisky and drink the lot.