With This Fling... (13 page)

‘Seriously, Charlotte,’ said Millie, from her spot at the kitchen counter, where she’d taken to slicing up the walnut loaf she’d brought with her, ‘the entire department’s in an uproar about this foundation of yours and what’s in it for them—Derek loves the idea, by the way—but you not being around to explain your vision isn’t helping any. You need to get in there and get forceful if you want it to happen.’

‘I want it to happen,’ said Charlotte simply.

‘So you’ll be back at work on Monday?’

Charlotte nodded. ‘You want some coffee to go with your walnut slice?’

Millie nodded.

Charlotte set the coffee maker to gurgling. She headed for the fridge. Out came the milk for the coffee and double dollop cream for the cake.

‘So what prompted this Greenstone Foundation idea?’ asked Millie.

‘Aurora’s death,’ said Charlotte. ‘More money than I know what to do with. The need for a
challenge. Not getting the leeway or the recognition I wanted from the university employment system. Take your pick. Life lacked purpose. The foundation will give me one. And flexibility as well. Happens I’m going to need that too.’

‘What does Gil think of your newfound purpose?’ asked Millie.

‘I’ve no idea.’

‘Ah.’ Millie’s eyes turned sympathetic.

‘Guess you two didn’t sort out your differences, then.’

‘No. Some people never lose the wanderlust. Grey’s one of them.’

‘Who’s Grey?’

‘Gil,’ said Charlotte. ‘Thaddeus. Only he’s not Thaddeus either. He’s Greyson.’

‘The man has more names than a birth registry,’ muttered Millie, and bit into her now cream-slathered walnut slice.

Charlotte smiled and toyed with her own food. ‘So it seems.’ What to tell and what to withhold from a woman whose friendship she’d come to value? ‘Millie, will you keep a confidence for me?’

‘Is it likely to impact negatively on my work, my relationship with others, or my ethics?’ asked Millie.

‘Not really,’ said Charlotte. ‘Maybe a little.
It’s probably not going to do a whole lot for your opinion of me.’

Millie put down her slice, wiped her hands on the napkin, sipped her coffee, and set it down gently. First things first. ‘Okay,’ she said cautiously. ‘What’s up?’

‘Gil Tyler was a figment of my imagination. Grey Tyler is the man who came to collect his office. They’re not one and the same. And I haven’t finished yet.’

Harder than she’d thought, this unburdening of her sins. So many,
many
lies. It was time for them to stop.

‘Okay.’ Millie’s eyebrows had risen considerably. ‘Continue.’

‘Grey and I slept together a time or two. It was … intense. Amazing. But strictly short term. We parted ways relatively amicably.’

It seemed as good a summary as any, even if it did downplay the intensity of the real thing.

‘Sounds like a good time was had by all,’ said Millie.

‘And now I’m pregnant.’

Millie blinked, nodded slowly, and kept her mouth firmly shut.

‘Not deliberately,’ said Charlotte hastily. ‘This would be one of those extremely unexpected pregnancies. As opposed to a planned one.’

Another slow nod from Millie.

‘Millie, say something.’

‘Yes,’ said Millie. ‘Yes, I believe that
is
the custom. I just need a moment’s processing time. And we’re definitely going to need more cake.’

‘I have mountains of cake,’ said Charlotte. ‘Also ice cream, pickles, and caramel tart, just in case. All I’m after is your uninhibited response to my news.’

Millie sent her a speaking glance.

‘Although any response will do.’

‘Does anyone else know?’ asked Millie.

‘Not yet. You’re my practice run.’

‘Oh, the pressure to say something you might actually want to hear,’ murmured Millie. ‘I feel like I’m on a game show and you’re the host, waiting for my reply to the million dollar question.’ Millie put both hands to her head and groaned. ‘Can I phone a friend?’

‘Who?’

‘Derek.’

‘Only if you’re planning on inviting him over,’ said Charlotte. ‘I may need him for my second practice run. I think I’ve blown the first.’

Millie ran her hands over her hair and looked back up at Charlotte, her eyes imploring. ‘I don’t know what to say.’

‘Say I can do this,’ pleaded Charlotte, brittleness giving way to uncertainty in the face of
Millie’s continued hesitation. ‘Please, Millie.’ Before Charlotte’s tears started in earnest. ‘I need someone to tell me that I can do this and that everything’s going to be okay.’

‘Oh, Charlotte. Sweetie.’ Millie was on her feet, wrapping her arms around Charlotte. Contact and comfort. Charlotte gulped back a sob. ‘It
will
be okay. I know you. There’s nothing you can’t do when you put your mind to it. You’ll make a wonderful mother. You’ll see.’

‘What am I going to tell Greyson?’ whispered Charlotte.

But to that, Millie had no answer.

Derek arrived an hour and a half later, bearing Thai takeaway for three and a six-pack of beer. ‘I don’t do feel-good films and I don’t do tears,’ he said. ‘I’m here strictly to get the low-down on the Greenstone Foundation proposal.’

‘Of course you are,’ murmured Millie soothingly. ‘Shall we eat first?’

‘We should definitely eat first,’ said a freshly composed Charlotte.

Derek eyed the sweets laden kitchen counter sceptically. ‘You’re into the crisis food,’ he declared. ‘I’ve lived in enough foster homes to know crisis food when I see it and crisis phone calls when I get one.’

‘This crisis doesn’t involve you directly,’ said Charlotte.

‘Then why am I here?’

‘We needed a test male,’ said Millie. ‘And by
we,
I mean Charlotte. Strictly speaking, this isn’t my crisis either—lucky for you.’

‘Millie’s going to observe and take notes,’ said Charlotte. ‘Derek, would you like a cold glass for your beer?’

‘Hospitable,’ said Millie. ‘Nice touch.’

Charlotte poured beer for Derek with a relatively steady hand, wine for Millie, and sparkling mineral water for herself.

‘The mineral water could raise questions,’ said Millie. ‘Maybe you should pour yourself a glass of wine as well, even if you don’t touch it. Derek, what do you think?’

‘Huh?’ said Derek.

‘My mistake,’ said Millie. ‘Proceed.’

Charlotte set three places at the kitchen counter for eating. She set serving spoons to Derek’s Thai offerings. ‘You think I need to be more formal?’ asked Charlotte. ‘Because I can always set the dining table?’

‘No, this is good,’ said Millie. ‘He needs to feel comfortable and relaxed. Derek, do you feel comfortable and relaxed?’

‘I might if I knew what was going
on
,’ muttered Derek.

Millie nodded sagely. ‘Proceed.’

‘I’m going to ask him about his work,’ said Charlotte. ‘Derek, how’s the work? Research coming together well?’

‘Is this a job interview?’ asked Derek, hoeing into the food. ‘Because if this is about the sidekick position for the Greenstone Foundation, I want more prep time. Seriously, Charlotte. You could do worse than consider me for the job.’

‘Interesting,’ said Mille. ‘The man has his own agenda.’ She turned to Charlotte. ‘Greyson may well have his own agenda too.’

‘Who’s Greyson?’ asked Derek.

‘Formerly Thaddeus,’ said Charlotte. ‘In other words Gil. Gil Tyler. Of long pig fame. Millie can fill you in on the details later. The important thing is for you to put yourself in the role of dedicated research scientist and world traveller. We didn’t think it’d be too much of a stretch for you. As for the foundation position, if it goes ahead you’d damn well better apply seeing as I wrote it with you in mind.’

‘Seriously?’ said Derek.

‘Seriously.’

Derek beamed.

‘Excellent work with the compliments,’ said Millie, and to Derek, ‘How are you feeling? Are you feeling relaxed?’

‘Well, I was,’ murmured Derek.

‘I think it’s time,’ said Mille.

‘Are you sure?’ Charlotte didn’t feel at all sure. ‘I mean, he’s hardly touched his beer.’

‘It’s time,’ said Millie. ‘It’s just a practice run. Master the fear.’

‘Okay.’ Charlotte took a huge breath and reached for Millie’s wine, only Millie was faster, holding it up and out of the way before Charlotte could get to it. Derek had his beer halfway to his lips so no joy there either. ‘Derek, I’m pregnant.’

Derek’s beer went down wrong. Derek surfaced all a splutter.

‘I’m thinking you should probably wait until Greyson’s
between
beers to make that particular announcement,’ said Millie.

‘Will do,’ said Charlotte nervously. ‘Derek? Anything to add?’

‘Not a word,’ wheezed the beleaguered Derek.

‘Put yourself in Greyson’s shoes,’ said Millie encouragingly. ‘Anything to add
now?’

‘Am I the father?’ asked Derek. ‘No, let me rephrase. I can’t say those particular words without breaking into a cold sweat. Is Greyson the father?’

‘Yes,’ said Charlotte.

‘And also your fiancé.’

‘No,’ said Charlotte. ‘I’m currently fiancé-less. As is Greyson.’

‘And you want him back?’ asked Derek.

‘Hard to say,’ murmured Charlotte. ‘I never really had him in the first place. Let’s just assume that I don’t really know
what
I want from him at this particular point in time.’

‘Do you want financial assistance when it comes to raising this child?’ asked Derek.

‘No.’ Charlotte shook her head emphatically. ‘I don’t need Greyson’s money. That’s the last thing I need.’ She picked up her glass of fizzy water, wishing it were wine. ‘Is that really one of the first things that came to mind?’

‘Yes,’ said Derek grimly. ‘Not everyone can afford to be blasé when it comes to ongoing monetary commitments, Charlotte, and raising a child very definitely qualifies as that.’

‘So maybe she tells him she doesn’t want his money
before
she tells him she’s pregnant,’ said Millie.

‘How?’ asked Charlotte. ‘How do I do that?’

‘Maybe you start with what you
do
want from him,’ said Millie. ‘Which would be …?’ And when Charlotte remained silent, ‘This is your cue. What do you want from him?’

But Charlotte didn’t know. ‘Maybe, apart
from the knowing … maybe some level of participation?’

‘You mean marriage,’ said Derek.

‘No! Not necessarily.’ Charlotte was starting to tremble now. She countered by crossing her arms in front of her. ‘I don’t know. This isn’t going well, is it?’ she said in a small voice.

‘You’re telling a man he’s going to be a father, Charlotte,’ muttered Derek. ‘How do you expect it to go?’

‘Better,’ she said and choked down her rising panic. ‘I just assumed that breaking the news to him in person would be better, but maybe it’s not. I could email him with the news, or text him, and
then
arrange a meeting …’

But Derek was shaking his head. ‘I didn’t say don’t give him the news in person. I said give him some thinking time once you do. Don’t analyse his initial response. Like as not, it won’t be the one you want. Give him some space with this. Let him know
your
thoughts on marriage and motherhood, and then
let him be.’

‘I can do that,’ said Charlotte faintly, and turned to Millie. Millie who’d been judging her presentation and hopefully taking notes. ‘Millie, so how did it go?’

‘Fine. Just fine,’ said Millie a little too readily. And then, ‘I need another drink.’

Charlotte waited until the following morning to email Greyson. A beautiful late-summer’s morning with not a whisper of a cloud in the sky. A good day, she decided, for sharing unexpected news. Nonetheless, her email to Greyson still took her all morning to construct and finally consisted of three short words. ‘Where are you?’

Greyson’s reply pinged back within ten minutes. ‘Hawkesbury river.’

‘Dinner at my place this evening?’ she wrote back, before she lost her nerve entirely. ‘Seven p.m.?’

This time his reply came almost instantaneously. ‘Why?’

Not a man bent on being amiable. Not entirely unexpected, given that her parting words to him two months ago had been, ‘Don’t call me and I won’t call you.’

‘Need to talk to you,’ she wrote back. Now there was a phrase guaranteed to send a chill up a man’s spine.

Charlotte sat back and stared at the computer screen after that, sat there for ten minutes with her heart in her throat, waiting for a reply that did not come. When the phone rang, she almost slipped her skin. Charlotte reached for it gingerly, hoping it was Greyson, hoping it was not.

‘Charlotte Greenstone,’ she said as evenly as she could, while her hands shook and her knees shook and she tucked her free hand between her knees in an effort to stop the trembling of both.

‘So talk.’ Greyson’s voice; deep and gravelly and riddled with wariness.

‘Hello, Greyson,’ she said, in a voice that wobbled only faintly. ‘I half expected you to be in Borneo.’

‘No.’

‘No.’ She ran through the script she’d prepared in her mind. Some sort of compliment was supposed to come next, but her brain had gone blank the minute she’d heard that familiar deep voice.

‘What do you want, Charlotte?’

‘Not money.’ She remembered Derek’s words of last night and figured she might as well get that one out of the way. ‘You don’t ever need to worry on that score.’

‘I wasn’t,’ he uttered dryly.

‘Because money’s not the problem here.’

‘So what
is
the problem here?’ he said. ‘I’m assuming you’re not ringing because life felt empty without me and you want to pick up where we left off? Am I wrong?’

Charlotte closed her eyes. She hadn’t armoured herself properly against Greyson’s
thinly veiled hostility. She should have. ‘Never mind,’ she said raggedly. ‘This was a really bad idea. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you.’

‘Charlotte, wait!’

She waited in silence. Trembling. Quailing.

‘Dinner, you said,’ he muttered, and his voice was as ragged as hers.

‘Yes.’

‘You should know that I’ll not be able to keep my hands off you if we have it at your place. You should know not to be with me in private right now. I’m telling you this as a courtesy.’