Chapter 193 Pretending to Make Love is Also Fine
Calla left the hospital, and it was already pretty late.
She found a quiet spot and called Anthony.
She never dared to call Anthony from Moonlit Grove, always worried someone might overhear.
The call connected.
Anthony asked, "Dr. Griffin, what did the tests say?"
"As expected, I'm pregnant," Calla replied.
Anthony chose his words carefully, "So, what are you planning to do now?"
Calla said, "Since the result is confirmed and I want to keep the baby, there's only one way to go."
Anthony asked, "What way?"
Calla said, "I need to find a way to sleep with Michael and make him think the baby is his."
Anthony was shocked. "Dr. Griffin, how is that even possible? Would my uncle even agree to sleep with you?"
Calla got angry. "Do you think I want this? Have you ever thought about who put me in this situation?"
Anthony quickly apologized. "Dr. Griffin, don't be mad; it's all my fault!"
Calla said, "Anthony, do you think I don't know what you're thinking? You just think I have no charm and don't deserve to sleep with Michael, right?"
Anthony hurriedly clarified. "No! I've never thought that! In my eyes, you're gentle, elegant, wise, beautiful, and smart with a great figure! Better than most women out there! You're attractive and don't even realize it! Don't underestimate yourself! If my uncle can't see that, it's his loss, not a reflection on you!"
Calla felt much better after Anthony's flattery.
She even thought that sleeping with him wouldn't be bad.
At least he was good-looking, had a great body, was good with sweet talk, young, obedient, always available, and could provide emotional value.
Calla softened her tone. "It doesn't have to be real sex; pretending to have sex would work too."
Anthony was confused. "How can you pretend to have sex?"
Calla said, "Get him in a state where he's not fully conscious, lie in bed with me, and when he wakes up, he won't deny it."
Anthony asked, "Is that even possible?"
Calla got angry again. She had just praised Anthony in her mind, and now he was being stupid.
She hissed at Anthony, "That's why I'm calling you! Think of a way! I'm already pregnant. Do you expect me to figure it out and take all the risks alone? If something goes wrong, won't Michael come after you first?"
Anthony agreed. "Okay. I'll think of a way. Don't be mad, take care of yourself."
After hanging up, Calla calmed herself and boarded the train back.
At the Jones Group, Dean was organizing a party for Elizabeth.
Elizabeth walked into his office and saw him carefully writing names on invitations.
She smiled and asked, "Dean, are you planning to handwrite all these invitations? Isn't it tiring?"
Dean didn't look up, still writing seriously. "Elizabeth, machine-printed names may look nice, but they're impersonal and cold."
Elizabeth felt touched.
She pulled out a blank invitation and took a pen.
She asked Dean, "Which ones haven't been written yet?"
Dean handed her a list. "This list has red marks next to the names that are done. The ones without marks are still to be written."
Elizabeth immediately saw Michael's name and paused. She said, "Let me help you write them."
Dean smiled. "Sure. Let's write them together. To be honest, the characters from your country, Celestria, are really complicated; it takes me forever to write."
Elizabeth chuckled. "It's rare that you can even write our characters."
She grabbed a stack of invitations, sat at another table, and started writing names slowly.
She deliberately skipped Michael's name.
It was like not writing his name was a way to avoid thinking about him.
After writing five or six invitations, Elizabeth finally wrote Michael's name, albeit grudgingly.
The moment she wrote his name, Elizabeth's heart softened a bit.
She slipped Michael's invitation among the others.
Dean called out to her, "Elizabeth, did you write Michael's invitation?"
Elizabeth panicked. "Whose?"
Dean looked up at her with a knowing expression. "Michael. I left it for you to write on purpose."
Elizabeth blushed.
She placed the stack of invitations on Dean's desk. "I only wrote these few, his is in there. My handwriting isn't great. I'm done. You can write the rest. No one will judge you, a foreigner, for your handwriting."
With that, Elizabeth quickly left Dean's office.
Dean shook his head with a smile and continued writing.
When he saw the next name on the list was Daniel, he paused.
He took another invitation and slowly wrote the name in careful strokes.
After finishing, he quietly stared at the name, as if he were looking at the person himself.
He reached out and gently touched the familiar name.
As a result, the still-wet ink smudged on his hand, ruining the name he had just written.
Dean quickly took another invitation and rewrote "Daniel."
He never knew that when one had feelings for someone, just writing their name could stir so many emotions.
After finishing all the invitations, Dean picked out the ones for Daniel, Michael, Matthew, and David.
He called his secretary and asked her to deliver the invitations to the individuals at Stellar Enterprises.
After the secretary left, Dean checked the time.
Estimating that the invitations had been delivered, Dean called Daniel.
Daniel's number was one Dean had memorized.
He dialed the number.
The call connected.
Daniel's voice was cold. "Hello."
Dean also adopted a business-like tone. "Mr. Taylor, did you receive the invitation?"
Daniel replied, "Yes, I did."
Dean couldn't keep up the pretense. "Will you come?"
Daniel seemed a bit less cold. "Not sure yet, it depends on my boss."
Dean felt a pang in his heart and his tone turned unfriendly. "Why do you always talk about your boss? Is there no one else in your life? Is your heart only filled with your boss?"
"No, there's also my job," Daniel replied.
Dean was speechless. "Isn't your job assigned by your boss? How is that different from being devoted only to your boss?"
Daniel said, "You said it yourself, my job is assigned by my boss and my salary comes from my boss. Why shouldn't I consider my boss? Are you the one paying me? Are you the one giving me a job?"
Dean held the phone with one hand and rubbed his forehead with the other, feeling a headache from Daniel's words.
Dean thought, 'Do you have to argue with me to feel satisfied?'
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