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Somehow, Penelope managed to schedule in a world tour for Calista to complete her promotion for her album. It had been a month since Calista found out she was pregnant and she still had to inform Michael of the incoming baby, but she hadn't had the time to sit down and call him yet.
London was cold, rainy and gloomy. Calista was bundled up in her hotel room, slurping up some potato soup she had ordered from room service. She carefully watched the television as images of a variety of familiar artists in fancy dresses and suits walked down a red carpet.
It was the 1984 Annual Grammy Awards and all of the nominees at the award show were present at the event. Although Calista wanted to be there, she had a show the next night to perform.
Calista anxiously waited for the cameras to turn on Michael, but as they hadn't done so yet— she suspected that he hadn't arrived yet. She waited and waited, and once he finally did appear, she noticed he wasn't alone. A young actress, Brooke Shields, stood beside him, holding his hand.
A strange bubbling feeling erupted in the pit of Calista's stomach. She felt betrayed, envious and jealous all at once. Although she knew he was unaware that she was carrying his child, she made a self-note to herself to get back at him, in any subtle way, before she announced her pregnancy to him in the next week.
* * *
Calista performed her concert in London just as any concert she had done in the United States, except this time, she added her own promiscuous performance into the mix— making sure her film crew captured the sultry moment. The moment the concert was over, she scurried over to her film crew and retrieved the footage of one particular performance she found the most appealing and gave it to Penelope to send it into MTV, a growingly popular music channel, to promote her tour as soon as possible. Penelope was satisfied with her enthusiasm for the tour and had the footage edited and sent in a couple days later.
* * *
Paris was exceptionally beautiful. Calista had just returned to her hotel from having lunch at a small restaurant in the middle of Paris when she had finally convinced herself to call Michael. She anxiously sat at the edge of the bed, plucking the phone from its place on the end table.
Calista quickly punched in the familiar phone number and heard the phone begin to ring. She pressed the telephone up her ear, her anticipation growing heavier, and waited until the phone indicated that someone had answered. "Hello?" A gruff voice spoke into the phone. The voice threw Calista off, she was expecting Michael's soft-spoken voice.
"May I speak with Michael?" Calista asked, nibbling at her lip nervously. She assumed the voice of the man was his manager.
The man on the other end didn't reply and simply put her on hold. A few moments later, the silence subsided and Michael's recognizable voice sounded. "Hello?" He asked, sounding sleepy.
Calista cringed, remembering that they were in different time zones. "Hey, Mike. It's Cal." She greeted.
"Oh, hey Cal." He stifled a cough.
"Sorry to be calling so late— well, late for you— but we need to talk..." Calista trailed off.
Michael seemed to move around where he was uncomfortably. "No, I needed to get up in a bit anyway. What did we need to talk about?" He asked, seeming to be adjusting the phone on his ear.
"Well— I don't know how to put this... I guess I–I'll just say it." Calista stuttered.
"Are you in trouble?" Michael asked worriedly when he noticed her hesitation.
Calista's eyes widened. "No, no, no, no! I'm fine. I— I just wanted to say— I'm pregnant. Damn it. I said it. I'm pregnant with your baby, Michael." Calista announced, throwing her free arm in the air.
A soft laugh escaped Michael's lips. "Very funny, Cal." He chuckled.
