Chapter 5

The Jones’ Estate
Encino, California

“Hors d’oeuvre?”
I glanced up at the waiter who was holding a large tray of petit fours just under my nose.
“I’ll take one.” I said quietly and picked a treat up. “Thank you.”
“And for you Mr. Jackson?” He directed the platter towards Michael.
I looked across the small table that Michael and I were sharing. He was looking down at his hands, a small frown on his face.
“Nothing for him.” I nodded.
As the waiter wandered over to one of the many tables that were dotting the expansive back yard of Quincy Jones’ home, I leaned across the table towards Michael.
“Are you alright? We’ve been here almost two hours and you haven’t eaten anything.” I pointed out.
“I…I am not hungry, honey.” He reached out and tapped my hand.
“But Michael, this is a party. You should be enjoying yourself.” I replied motioning to the crowd, that included such celebs as Lionel Richie and super skinny daughter Nicole, Diana Ross and Smokey Robinson.
Everyone was in the middle of scattered chatter and some were grooving to the light music that was playing.
“I am enjoying myself.” Michael fibbed and gave me a weak smile.
“Mike, please! You’ve been sulking since we got here and Prince isn’t even here. Loosen up and have some fun. For me.” I batted my eyes at him and poked out my bottom lip like a small child.
Michael’s face brightened. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ve been acting silly haven’t I?”
“No, I just hate that you were worried.”
I grinned, happy that Michael was finally coming around.
“You’re so good to me.” Michael picked up my hand and kissed it.
I looked down, blushing.
I was kind of shy about him showing affection publicly. His image was still of a major concern to me. But I think that I had most of the partygoers fooled into thinking that I was older than nineteen. In my opinion I felt I looked at least twenty-five.
Another waiter passed by, a platter of broiled shrimp balanced on his palm.
Michael partook of a hand full of them.
He popped a few into his mouth. “These are yummy. Try one.” He grinned.
Michael held out a shrimp to me.
As I nibbled on it, enjoying it’s spicy flavor, I noticed the smile that had finally been warming Michael’s face had suddenly disappeared.
He was staring over my shoulder, a cold look on his face.
I spun around to see what had caused that sudden change in his demeanor.
Standing in the back doorway of Quincy’s home, flanked by two large bodyguards, was Prince.
I have to admit, my heart skipped a half beat at the sight of him.
He did look good.
Prince was clad in a pristine white suit. The jacket had an asymmetrical hem to it--one half of the jacket fell below his knee while the other half stopped at his hip. Under the jacket he wore a red and white zebra print shirt. A matching square was sticking out of the breast pocket on the suit.
I watched as Quincy rushed over to greet Prince with open arms.
As both men embraced, I looked back over at Michael.
Michael’s face was twisted into a full on frown.
I immediately felt guilty for actually thinking of Prince in a good way.
I knew that his presence there was making Michael’s temper soar into the stratosphere.
Prince was making his way through the party, shaking the hands of all the men, kissing the cheeks of the women and even pausing for a few photos.
I noticed that he managed to say hello to everyone except for Michael and me.
He passed right by our table without so much as a glance towards Michael and Michael looked in the other direction. (Though I couldn’t really tell, Prince was also wearing dark sunglasses.)
“I can’t stand that damn man.” Michael grumbled, adjusting his glasses. “Did you see that? How arrogant can one person be?”
I shrugged quietly.
I kept my mouth shut about Michael having as much of an opportunity to speak to Prince as Prince did to Michael.
Prince and his cronies seated themselves at a table a few feet from us and chatted together quietly.
“Michael…” Quincy called as he approached the table.
“Yeah Q?” Michael’s voice was stiff and I knew he was still ticked off at Quincy.
“Let, me talk to you for a minute.” He said patting Michael’s shoulder.
“Will you excuse me Brynn?” Michael nodded.
“Sure--but hurry back.” I giggled squeezing his hand.
I watched as Michael and Quincy went a few feet away and conversed quietly, their heads close together.
As they continued to talk, I let my eyes wander around. Most of the guests were up in the middle of the lawn, grooving to the light dance music playing through speakers placed on the outskirts of the property.
For a moment, I had the feeling that I was being watched. I continued to look around. Eventually, my eyes landed on Prince.
I was a bit shocked to see that he was staring boldly at me.
I shook off the chill his look was giving me. I had to keep myself in check and remember that this man was the reason that Michael was so unhappy.
And I decided that since Prince had had the audacity to snub Michael--and me--it was my turn to snub him right back!
Touching the diamond heart at my throat, I gave Prince a smug smile and turned my head the other way.
I saw that Michael was rushing back over to me, a huge grin lighting his face.
“What are you so happy about?” I asked slyly. Michael looked as though he’d learned he’d won a Grammy or something.
“You’ll see in a moment!” Michael continued to beam and stood behind my chair.
“Could I have everyone’s attention please?” Quincy’s voice rang out through the speakers.
The chatter and music died down.
“I am extremely excited to debut a new song to all of those of you out there…” He began.
“No way!” I whispered and stared up at Michael. The man was glowing like a pregnant woman.
“And it is by none other than Mr. Michael Jackson. With backing vocals by his little protégé, Miss Brynn McAllister!”
Quincy exclaimed and everyone clapped.
“Everyone get up, this is Not Over!”
“Oh my God!” I exclaimed as the intro to the song began to blare.
I hopped up and, with my inhibitions about public affection leaving me, I hugged Michael tightly.
“Shall we dance?” Michael said into my ear quietly.
“Hell yes!” I grabbed his hand and we literally ran to the center of the lawn and joined in the mass of moving bodies.
“I can’t believe you! You are one sly devil!” I shouted to Michael as I bounced around.
“It was all Q’s idea! I’m glad you’re happy!” Michael guffawed.
“No! I’m glad that you’re happy!” I grabbed his hands and we rocked back and forth.
All around us, people were yelling and telling Michael that his song--our song--was awesome.
It was a giddy moment. As Michael and I boogied together, the group around us began to form a circle.
Michael, of course, took the opportunity to showcase his famous dance moves, including the Moonwalk and the Sidefloat. And as he began to freestyle a menagerie of complicated steps, I moved back into the crowd, a grin stinging my cheeks I was smiling so hard.
Soon cries of “Go Michael! Go Michael!” were filling the air.
Michael Jackson was not holding back for anything. His hair was flipping in every direction and his slender body was wriggling and bouncing around the circle. Camera phones were flashing like crazy, capturing this impromptu performance.
“He can still move, can’t he?” Quincy asked loudly putting his hand on my shoulder.
“Yes, sir. He sure can!” I giggled clapping in beat to the music.
“I smell a hit!” Quincy laughed.
As Michael continued to move, I looked over to Prince’s table.
He was the only person who hadn’t gotten up to dance. Even his bodyguards were dancing near the edge of the crowd, with the servants who had stopped working to watch him.
He didn’t appear to have any type of readable emotion in his face. His expression was almost placid.
I turned my attention back to Michael in time to see him whip around into a mad spin at the climax of the song.
Applause and whistles ensued as Michael sauntered over and gave me a warm hug and gently kissed my cheek. He wasn’t even breathing hard!
“Not Over would not be possible without this girl right here!” Michael exclaimed continuing to hold onto me.
The cheers grew even louder and Not Over began to play again. Michael held up his hands indicating the he wouldn’t be dancing a second time.
“That was freaking amazing! It was like being at a concert!” I gasped as Michael and I sank into our seats at our table.
If Michael still cared that Prince was there, he didn’t show it at all.
“No, not really. If I was in concert, trust me, you’d have been dancing right with me. Why’d you step away anyway?” Michael grasped a goblet of water that a waiter had rushed to him.
“It was your moment. And you were spectacular all on your own.” I smiled and squeezed his free hand as he drank with the other one.
“But Brynn, it’s our song. I wanted you to share the moment too.” Michael set his glass down and tapped my cheek with his fingertip.
“I shared it, believe me.” I grinned, a wave of admiration and love swelling in my chest.
Michael sat back and observed the people still jamming to his song.
“Quincy thinks this is going to be a hit.” I confided.
“Quincy is a smart man.” Michael grinned. “I can’t wait for this to hit the masses. If this party is any indication, it’ll be a smash.” He ran a hand across his forehead where finally, a few droplets of perspiration had formed.
“Yeah.” I smiled rising from the table. I was so hot for Michael, that if I thought I could have gotten away with it, I would have jumped him right there. I knew I had to get away from him for a moment, or it would have gotten X-rated very quickly. “I’m going to go freshen my make-up.” I mumbled and picked up my purse.
“Okay.” Michael gave me a small smile.
I couldn’t help myself. Walking behind him, I whispered, “You were sexy up there.” I ran my hand under his hair and against his neck.
Michael turned red and tried to hide his giggles.
I made my way to the main house, being stopped several times by people complimenting my vocals on the song.
In one of the many bathrooms in Quincy’s house, I struggled to calm myself.
I hadn’t been that excited since Michael and I had been intimate. And if Michael had danced one more step out on the lawn, I would have been on him harder than his most zealous fan.
A mischievous grin crossed my face when I realized, that in a few short hours, Michael and I would be going home together.
I pulled some of my cosmetics out of my bag and as I had told Michael, I did freshen my make-up.
I exited the bathroom and started down the hall, feeling confident that I could control myself until I got back to Neverland.
“You’ve got a nice voice, Brynn.” A deep voice from behind me commented quietly.
I spun around, ready to thank whoever had paid me the compliment.
I stopped short.
My purse fell out of my hand and bounced on the carpeted floor.
A few feet away from me, Prince loomed.
“Well, aren’t you gonna thank me?” He asked and began to approach me.
I continued to look at him, actually unable to speak!
Prince was much shorter in person than I thought he was. He had to have been at least four or five inches shorter than me and he was actually wearing high heeled boots. As he neared me, I saw that his shoes were red and white zebra print, like his shirt and pocket square.
“So where’d a kid like you learn to sing like that?” Prince stooped down and retrieved my bag. As he rose back up with it, the scent of lavender invaded my nose. I found that a bit peculiar. I had never smelled a men’s cologne that included lavender.
“Just around.” I replied taking my purse from him. I wanted to get away from Prince as quickly as possible because I knew that if Michael even thought I had been consorting with his mortal enemy, he would have burst into flames with anger.
“You haven’t been trained? I’m surprised. I like your voice on that song. I don’t care much for Michael’s voice--never did anyway--but there’s something new and fresh about your sound.” Prince smiled slightly and removed his shades.
For a moment I was completely taken aback.
Prince was even more handsome up close than when I had seen him hugging Quincy earlier.
Up close I saw that Prince’s skin was of a golden-olive complexion and the white of his suit jacket made his skin glow. His hair, black and longish in the front, and progressively shorter towards the back of his head was a stark contrast to his skin. It was a bit waved and a few strands fell across his forehead.
His was just as pretty as Michael, if not more so. Even though he was very masculine, there were certain elements to his face that were feminine.
He was just on the outskirts of androgyny--and from what I knew of some of Prince’s past looks, he often played into his female features.
Under gently arched blackish-brown eyebrows, Prince was staring at me with large, sparkling hazel eyes that were framed by some of the longest and thickest eyelashes I had ever seen on a man. I was very sure that he was at least wearing a few coats of mascara if not false eyelashes.
As I continued to look at him--still tongue-tied--I noticed that he was sporting foundation and a bit of eyeliner that winged out at the tips of his top lids.
Sprouting from under his straight nose and circling his mouth was a soft semi-goatee.
My eyes glided down to his shirt where most of the top buttons had been left loose, exposing a peek of his yellow chest which was covered in a moderate mass of black curls.
He was gorgeous.
I finally pulled myself together, feeling another pang of guilt and in a somewhat snotty way, I answered Prince’s question.
“Of course my sound is fresh, Michael always finds the freshest and the newest things.” I toyed with the strap on my bag.
“Hey, don’t give him all the credit. I find and use the newest things sometimes too.” Prince rubbed a hand across his hairy chest.
“Oh really? If you say so.” I tossed my ponytail.
Prince gave me a quizzical look. “What you don’t believe me?” He laughed.
“Actually no. I’ve seen The Time and Apollonia 6 and those are the most dated sounds I’ve ever heard. Gee, one guy looks like a cheap version of you, and the other is a girl band singing in their lingerie.” I sniffed and gave him a smug smile.
“I take it you’ve seen Purple Rain.” Prince grinned, rubbing his chin.
“Maybe.” I replied and looked over his head.
I saw Prince turn slightly red at how quickly I had given his most successful movie and album the brush off. I didn’t know that much about him, but what little bit I did know, I was using it against him as best as I could.
And he swiftly changed the subject.
“Do you only sing with Michael? Or do you sing with other artists?”
Prince got so close to me, that our bodies nearly touched.
Whatever type of lavender cologne he was wearing was making my nose burn and eyes water.
“I…I only sing with Michael.” I squeaked over a lump that had suddenly formed in my throat.
“Oh…what a shame.” Prince gave me a sour look.
“Yeah, it is a shame.” I answered, and leaned back a bit. Being that close to him was making me nervous.
I could only worry what Michael would have thought if he saw us that close together.
Prince was on me so tightly that we were practically breathing each others breath.
I turned to walk away from him.
“I think it’s kind of bad when a nineteen-year-old only limits herself to collaborating with one singer.” Prince called.
I stopped dead in my tracks.
“How’d you know I was nineteen?” I whispered, my guard momentarily
being let down.
Prince was the first person I’d spoken to that had gotten my age correctly.
And to be honest, I was curious to know how he had figured out my age.
Prince walked around me as he spoke.
“It was easy to tell. You’re a peach.” He gave me a wide smile. For a moment, he kind of resembled a mouse.
“Excuse me? A peach? What does that mean?” I frowned a bit, trying to figure out if he’d insulted me or not.
“It means…” Prince paused. “It means that you’re young and new. And I like that.” He placed his hand on my bare arm.
“Please--don’t touch me!” I exclaimed and swatted his arm away.
With his touch, it hit me like a ton of bricks how badly I was treating Michael.
“I’m sorry.” Prince continued to give me a smile that I found a bit unnerving.
“That’s fine.” I nodded and started away from him--quickly. “Michael is expecting me. Good-bye.”
As soon as I was out of Prince’s eye line and evil grin, I literally ran back to Michael.
“Are you alright? You took an awfully long time.” Michael smiled at me sweetly as I sat back next to him.
“Oh, I got a little lost in the house. It’s so big.” I giggled, all the while burning with a remorse that seemed hotter than the sun.
“That’s okay.” Michael tipped his shades and looked at me closely. “Are you alright Brynn, you look a little pale sweetie.” Michael pinched my cheek.
“I’m fine.” I smiled and grinned.
As I calmed down, I saw the Prince was making his way back to his table.
In an instance of eye contact, Prince nodded at me, the same disheartening smile once again curling his pink lips.
I gripped Michael’s arm so tightly that he cried out in pain.
“Brynn! What’s wrong?” Michael gasped and tried to loosen my fingers.
“Nothing.” I looked up at him. “It’s just that I want to get out of here with you, that’s all” I purred, more as an attempt to get the hell away from Prince, than to get Michael on his back. The hot feeling I had had before escaped me after my encounter with the tiny predator in heels.
Michael got my semi-hint. He rose from the table and grasped my hand.
“If you’re ready to go, then I guess I am too.” He grinned totally oblivious to my true reason for wanting to make a speedy exit.
As Michael thanked Quincy and his wife for a nice afternoon and said good-bye to a few friends, I glanced back at Prince.
He had the audacity to still be staring at me. There was something about his look that made me feel like he could see through my clothing or something!
I finally felt relief when I curled up next to Michael in our car on the way home.
I was glad the day was over and that I would probably never have to look at Prince again--unless it was Michael’s son.
Never was a shorter time than I expected.
* * *
A Month Later
Neverland Valley Ranch

“Brynn?”
I glanced up from where I was lounging in Michael’s throne.
He was emerging from his bathroom, post shower, and was glowing in the green and white striped pajamas he wore. He looked like a large piece of spearmint candy.
“Yes Michael?” I smiled as he kneeled by my side. His cologne was circling his body in a sexy cloud.
“Honey, I have a favor to ask of you for tomorrow.” He pushed a damp lock of hair out of his eyes.
“Sure…anything.” I leaned and kissed his sweet forehead.
“Tomorrow, I’m going to be tied up most of the day. You know talking music business and different things like that with Rusty.” Michael grinned.
“What kind of business things? And why can’t I go?” I whined and pouted like a 3-year-old.
“Well, Rusty says that he was contacted by someone who really wants to talk to me about maybe collaborating on some songs. But he didn’t tell me who it was.” Michael shrugged, “And you can’t go because I want you to have a personal day with Prince, Paris and Blanket. Every time you’ve been with them, I’ve been around and I think it would be really sweet if you spent the day with them.” Michael reached up and ran a hand through my hair.
I rose from the chair and started across the room. “Mike, I don’t know. I mean me, alone with three kids? Do you think I’ll be able to handle it?” I wondered.
“Yes! Oh Brynn!” Michael ran up behind me. “The kids adore you! You’ll have a great time!”
He rubbed my shoulders. “Will you do it?”
I felt a mischievous smile crossing my face. “On one condition, happy feet.”
“What? Anything!” Michael gasped over-dramatically.
I turned and faced Michael. “I’ll spend tomorrow with your kids…if I can spend tonight with you.” I tapped the tip of his little nose.
Michael gave me a full-on grin. “Are you sure I won’t wear you out?” He whispered in a low tone.
Fondling his chest through his shirt, I murmured, “ We’ll just have to see…”


* * *

The Next Morning

“Brynn! Brynn! Are you up? Wake up!”
I was awaked by the sound of three voices yelling and banging on the double doors of the room.
I recognized them as the rantings of Michael’s children. I rolled over in the bed to see that Michael’s side of the bed was empty except for a little note.
Ignoring the yelling outside, I started to read my lover’s small, almost illegible writing:

Dear Brynn,
I left this note because you were sleeping so well and I didn’t want to wake you. I had a great time last night. Hee-hee. I’m going to be in Los Angeles because whoever my “mystery” collaborator is, wants to be met at his hotel.
I’ll be home later tonight.
I love you, with all my heart, Michael
PS--I’m having some employees come around 11:30 to start up the rides so that you and the kids can have a lot of fun!

Since the trial, Neverland had been working with a skeleton crew because Michael’s privacy was more dearer to him than ever, but I was happy that he had found some people to operate the rides.
I glanced over at the clock and was shocked to see that it was almost ten a.m.
“Brynn! Open up! Please!” I heard Paris scream as I hopped out of bed, pulling a robe around my nude body.
“Hold on, I’m coming!” I called rushing over to the double doors and flung them open.
“About time!” Prince smiled and he and his siblings giggled.
I was surprised to see that all three children were still in their nightclothes.
“Hey…have you kids had breakfast?” I questioned, running a hand through my tangled hair.
“Yes, the cook made us some pancakes and sausage.” Paris grinned. “It was yummy.”
“Well that’s good. Let’s try to get you guys dressed--me too--so we can go out and have fun. Is that a deal?” I hoped the kids wouldn’t give me any trouble.
Luckily, they all agreed and in about an hour, I had them all bathed and dressed with their hair combed.
While they played happily in their playroom, I quickly got myself cleaned up; Michael had laid another “beating” on me.
Not that it was a problem. I loved being squished under Michael in the wee hours of the night.
I soon was decked out in a tank top and shorts, and for the convince, I pulled my hair in a ponytail. I was very happy at the thought I probably wouldn’t see Rusty that day and have to listen to him tell Michael that I looked like a fourteen-year-old.
By the time I got myself and the children outside, Michael’s ride crew had already arrived and most of the rides were in motion.
And I saw--as an added treat--there were people working all the candy and drink stands dotting the ranch.
Prince, Paris and Blanket, a mass of mangles screams, ran off to enjoy themselves.
“Miss McAllister?” A voice asked.
I turned to see a large black man approaching me, an even larger, professional type video camera hoisted on his shoulder.
“Yes?” I replied, a bit confused as to why he had a camera. “Can I help you?”
“Yeah, My name is Sam. Mr. Jackson hired me to film you and his children while he was away today.” The man smiled and a gold tooth flickered at me.
“Um, I don’t know. I’m going to need some kind of proof that Michael hired you.” I said quickly as I knew that Michael would have strangled me if some stranger just came up and started filming his children and me.
“He said you’d probably ask about that.” Sam laughed setting his camera on the ground and producing a small note out of his jeans pocket.
I perused it and saw that it was indeed in Michael’s tiny handwriting.
“Okay Sam. Go ahead and start filming. What exactly does Michael want his kids and me to do?” I wondered as Sam grunted and hoisted his camera back up.
“Nothing, just be yourselves. Michael wants something along the lines of a ’home’ movie.” Sam laughed.
“Yeah, or like a reality show?” I giggled.
“That’s right.” Sam laughed.
“Brynn! Brynn!” Prince ran up to me. “Come on, we want you to ride the Ferris Wheel with us! Please!” He tugged at my arm.
“Ok, Prince, say hello to Sam. Wave at the camera.” I put my arm around his shoulders.
“Hi!” Prince waved. “Come on!” He tugged me away and Sam jogged to keep up with us.
The day was tons of fun. I must have ridden each ride on Michael’s property at least three times and I’m sure I ate enough candy and popcorn to make my dentist an extremely wealthy man.
In the late afternoon after an actual lunch of charbroiled cheeseburgers and French fries, we decided to rest around the pool.
Well actually I did, Michael’s kids had obviously inherited his unbreakable energy and occupied themselves running the perimeter of the pool. Occasionally one of them would get tossed in, fully clothed.
“Miss McAllister…” Sam asked focusing his camera lens at me. “What’s it like working with Michael Jackson?”
I gave him a large smile. “I love working with Michael. It’s incredible.
I love him. I love you Michael!” I smiled even wider. “Life here is great. I work in the studio then after I get to come out here--” I motioned Neverland with my arm, “And have even more fun.”
“Do you like his children?” Sam prodded.
“No.” I shook my head.
“No?” Sam sounded shocked.
“No?!?” Paris, who was clinging to the side of the pool, whined.
I stood and walked over to her. “No. I love you and your brothers.” I stooped down and ruffled her wet hair.
“Oh! Goodie!” Paris giggled. “We love you too!”
“Really?” I giggled as her brothers waded over.
“Yeah, you make Dad happy and you’re nice to us.” Prince nodded while Blanket squealed happily.
“Aww.” My heart swelled knowing that Michael’s children had accepted me.
“This is a nice piece.” Sam commented from behind me and I saw that he was still filming us.
“You are too much. If you didn’t work for Michael, you’d make a great paparazzi.” I commented and started to get up.
“Nah, the hours here are easier and nobody’s cursing me out!” Sam laughed.
“That’s true.” I agreed and realized that something was holding onto my ankle.
I glanced down to see Paris hanging onto my ankle.
“What are you doing little missy?” I questioned.
Quoting Michael cleanly, Paris replied, “It’s a rule at Neverland that you are bound to get wet!” And with that she tugged me off into the pool.
My screams echoed over my head as slipped under the surface.
I popped back up in time to see the three kids running away.
“Oh no you don’t!” I yelled. “I’m gonna get each and everyone of you!”
I shouted and yanked myself quickly out the pool.
I followed the kids in hot pursuit, not really angry and just enjoying our friendly chase out and around the property.
Prince, Paris and Blanket, all holding hands, fled through the game room and led me around the main house three times before making a mad dash to the cobblestone bridge spanning over “Lake Neverland”.
Up on the bridge, Blanket slipped and landed on his tummy and I immediately swooped in and picked him up.
“Oh yeah! I got you little guy!” I exclaimed and began tickling him.
While Blanket wriggled and screeched with laughter, Paris and Prince slowly began to approach me.
“Hey! No false moves or you’re next!” I snickered.
I noticed that large grins covered their faces.
“What are you smiling so hard about?” I demanded as Blanket gasped for air, he was chuckling so much.
“It’s Daddy! Yay!” Paris exclaimed throwing her hands over her head.
“That’s not going to work! You want me to turn around and then you’ll jump on me!” I accused.
“No really! It’s Dad!” Prince insisted.
“Nah!” I shook my head until my soggy ponytail whipped me in the face.
I almost dropped Blanket on his face when a warm hand laid itself on my shoulder.
I looked up and indeed Michael was standing behind me.
He looked at ease in a white button-down shirt, form-fitting dark-washed blue jeans.
“Oh…hi Mike.” I gushed quietly.
“Hello Brynn.” Michael tapped my cheek. “Would you mind telling me why you and my kids are all soaking wet?” He grinned and blew a strand of hair out of his eyes.
“We kind of found our way into the pool.” I set Blanket on his feet and rose up.
“I kind of figured that.” Michael leaned and pecked my cheek.
His children clung to him, dampening his pants and hugging him.
Michael hee-hee’d and rubbed their faces.
“So how did the meeting with your ‘mystery’ guest go?” I asked as Michael kissed his kids.
“That’s why I came out here. He’s in the house and he wants to meet you.” Michael replied.
“Oh, he’s here?” I asked as Michael grasped my hand and began leading me towards the main house.
“Yes.” Michael nodded and said to Sam, who was following us, “Please, go film my children. This is private business. Thank you.”
“Michael, do you think I should change? I mean I’m sopping wet.” I fretted as Michael led me up to the closed double doors of his at-home office. I had no idea who Michael had in the room and I wanted to at least produce a good image.
“It’s fine. You’re at home. You’re supposed to be comfortable.” Michael giggled and opened the door.
Rusty and another man rose from the arm chairs in front of Michael’s large oak desk.
The smile I wore quickly fell off my face as I recognized the other man.
Prince.
I gripped Michael’s hand so hard, I’m sure I heard bones pop.
Michael didn’t seem to notice.
“Brynn, honey, I’d like for you to meet Prince.” Michael smiled.
A chill lit my body and I could only stare numbly as Prince, in a tailored black and white pinstriped suit, approached me.
A self assured smirk was plastered on his face.
I could barely comprehend it. I thought--not thought--knew that Michael hated Prince’s very existence and now, here he was in Michael’s home as welcomed as one of Michael’s brothers.
“Hello, Brynn, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Prince said in a low tone. He made no indication that we had met before.
“It’s nice…to meet you…too.” I forced the reply and I’m sure it came across stiffly.
“Come on Brynn, you can sit here.” Michael guided me to his large leather office chair and I reluctantly sat.
I didn’t know what was going on, but I knew one thing--with Michael and Prince--the singer, not the son--in the same room, all signs pointed to disaster. And I was certain that Rusty had his hand all in the pot in this situation.
“Now Brynn, I’m sure that you’re a bit surprised to see…Prince here.” Michael began gently.
“That I am.” I gave Michael an evil glance.
“But this is straight business.” Michael patted the top of my head.
I glanced at Prince and was disgusted that he looked happy because I was still very wet from the pool. I knew that Prince had a nasty streak as many of his songs illustrated and I hated that I was probably appealing to the pervert in him.
“Now when Rusty came to me and told me that Prince had contacted him, interested in writing music for me, I’ll admit, I was a bit skeptical.” Michael snickered.
“Are you sure that Prince contacted Rusty and that it wasn’t the other way around?” I said without thinking.
Rusty shot me a dirty look and said quickly, “I do believe that Prince contacted me, isn’t that correct?” Rusty ran a hand through his hair and looked over at Prince for confirmation.
“Yes, that’s correct.” Prince nodded, his rings glittering on the majority of his fingers and his put his hands to his face.
“Alright, so Prince wants to compose some songs for Michael.” I twirled my damp ponytail. “What does that have to do with me?” I sighed deeply and I was sure that Michael was unhappy with my less-than-stellar attitude, but for once I didn’t care. I had a raw disliking for the minute man sitting across from me and I didn’t have any trouble showing it.
“That’s what I’m getting to honey…” Michael tapped my shoulder and sat on the arm of his chair, leaning against me slightly.
“You see, Prince wants to write some music for me, but of course he wants something in return.” Michael glanced at Prince. “He wants you to record with him.”
I remained quiet, as a fury began to go on a rampage inside of me.
I stared at Prince.
He wore a small smile on his face and I really wanted to punch it off.
“Well that’s fine, we can head right on downstairs and start busting out now.” I looked back up at Michael. “Right?”
Michael bit his bottom lip and looked away. “Not quite.”
“What do you mean ‘not quite’?” I snapped sharply.
“I got this.” Rusty volunteered.
My glare was icy as I looked into his blue eyes.
“You see Prince wants to record with you at Paisley Park.” Rusty stated.
The words had no effect on me. “What’s Paisley Park? A ride at Disneyland?” I questioned.
Rusty, Prince and Michael all laughed.
Amidst amused snorts, Prince explained, “Paisley Park is my personal studio…in Minneapolis.”
“What?” I shook my head, trying to figure out if I had heard accurately.
“Minneapolis?” I choked out, “ But that’s in Minnesota--on the other side of the country!” I gasped.
“Yes, Brynn it is, but--” Michael began.
“But nothing! I am not going to Minneapolis. I’m sorry!” I popped up out of my seat and ran from the room.
“Brynn! Brynn come back!” Michael and Rusty darted out after me like cockroaches having the light flipped on them. Michael caught up to me as I tried to open the door to my bedroom.
“Brynn, please listen to reason honey!” Michael begged wedging himself in between me and my doorknob.
“What’s there to listen to? I told you. I’m not going to Minneapolis! I don’t even know where the hell Minnesota is!” I breathed into Michael’s face.
Michael looked down and wrung his hands nervously.
“Brynn, you don’t know what you’re talking about. This is a great, grand musical opportunity for Michael and I can’t believe that you have the audacity to try to take that from him!” Rusty whispered angrily leaning in towards.
“Don’t you start with me. I know this is all your doing, Rusty Ross. Prince wouldn’t call Michael on his own. They hate each other. I know you had something to do with this.” I poked him as hard as I could in his chest.
“You are biting the very hand that’s feeding you!” Rusty retorted and began to turn red. “I brought you here from nothing. Michael took you in when you had no other place. To him, you’re a charity case!”
“Rusty!” Michael exclaimed as I struck Rusty in the face with the back of my hand.
“I am no one’s charity case you bastard! Don’t you ever forget that!” I shoved Rusty back and pushing Michael out of the way, I ran into my room.
“Brynn--!” Michael’s voice cracked as I slammed the door in his face.
I threw myself on my bed as hot, angry tears spilled down my cheeks.
Outside I could hear Michael and Rusty pitting angry words against each other.
I didn’t want to be anywhere near Prince. He was not the kind of person I wanted to associate myself with. I knew that he had probably spent the entire afternoon sitting in Michael’s company, chatting him up and smiling at him, doing his damndest to weasel his way around Michael to get at me.
I knew nothing concerning me being alone with Prince on the other side of the country with Michael no where around to help or protect me was not a situation I wanted to put myself in. Michael couldn’t notice the imminent danger that slug Rusty was trying to place me in.
I just knew that Rusty wanted to be the one to say that he had had a hand in rebuilding Michael’s empire. He didn’t care who he stepped on to reach that title.
And I was determined to not go.

Six Hours Later

“Brynn…please…honey, open the door.” Michael begged from the other side of my door weakly.
“No!” I yelled back.
Michael had been perched outside my door since my outburst earlier that day. I was very sure that Rusty and Prince had made their exits long ago.
“Brynn, I just want to talk to you. Please open the door.” Michael knocked faintly.
Michael was making it very clear that he was going to sit outside my door for however long it took.
Not really wanting to, I rolled off my bed and made my way over to the door.
When I opened it, I saw that Michael was sitting on the floor, Indian-style.
“Oh, I thought you’d never open the door.” Michael sighed and staggeringly got up.
“I wasn’t planning on it.” I crossed my arms as Michael led the way back into my room.
“Where are the kids?” I asked as I shut the door behind me. I felt an argument coming on and I didn’t want his children to hear us in the middle of a shouting match.
“I had Rusty take them over to Tito’s house for the night. I wanted to talk to you as privately as possible.” Michael sat on the edge of my bed.
“Michael you can talk all you want. I am not going to Minneapolis. I don’t want to be anywhere near Prince or in his company.” I shook my head.
“Honey, why?” Michael questioned, his voice dripping with sadness.
For a moment I wanted to spill the entire story of how I had encountered Prince in the hallway at Quincy Jones’ home, but for fear that Michael would commit homicide, I kept the story to myself.
“Michael…” I knelt before him. “I don’t want to be away from you. You don’t know Prince that well--I don’t think. I mean you’ll be sending your girlfriend off to a complete stranger’s house. Doesn’t that seem a little weird to you?”
Michael rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “No, not really. I mean it’s all a business transaction. You do a few vocals for him and I’ll get a few songs from him. And I think it’s a good way to repair my image.” He nodded.
“Michael is that you talking or Rusty talking? That sounds like something that blue-eyed devil would say.” I sneered.
“Well Rusty may have said a few things to me. But you know that Prince and I have been on the out and out for over twenty years. Think of how the media would cover this if they found out that we’re actually working together.” Michael’s eyes danced.
“Why Prince? Why now? I mean what could he possibly write for you? You have totally different styles! I can play any one of your records in front of your children and most of Prince’s albums are too raw for even someone your age.” I pointed out.
“Brynn, Prince and I are the same age.” Michael put his warm hands on my shoulders.
“So? You’re nice, you’re a gentleman. Prince is rude and vulgar and not you!” I cried.
“Now how do you know he’s rude? You didn’t speak two words to him today. Now maybe his music is a bit more out there than mine, but maybe after you spend some time with him and get to know him, you might like him and actually call him a friend.” Michael rubbed my cheek.
The thought shocked me worse than if I would have put my tongue in a light socket.
“Prince? A friend? I’d sooner be friends with Rusty! And Michael I’m going to be so far from you. I’ll miss you too much. I love you!” Tears sprang from my eyes as I hugged him.
Michael’s voice dropped. “Brynn, I’ll stay in touch with you. I promise. I’ll call you every night, email you. Everything.” He vowed.
“Michael how are you gonna do that? I don’t have a cell phone or anything like that.” I whined.
“I’ll buy that stuff for you. Brynn…” Michael cradled my face in his hands. “You honestly don’t think I’d send you someplace where I’d think you’d be in danger, do you? I care for you. I love you.” He pecked my forehead.
“No…but--” Michael pressed a long finger to my lips.
“Then it’s settled. You’ll go to Paisley Park, and you’ll record with that leprechaun and before you know it, you’ll be back here riding the Ferris Wheel.” Michael stood suddenly and I fell back on my bottom.
As he made his way to the door, quite swiftly, I asked, “How long am I supposed to be with Prince anyway?”
As he closed the door, Michael mumbled, “Two weeks.”
I sat on the floor for a very long while after Michael had left just thinking.
Worrying.
I couldn’t believe that Michael was going to actually send me off to Minneapolis to be with a man who looked a step away from being the guy hiding in the bushes ready to hump anything with a pulse.
I kept telling myself that I was going to Minneapolis simply on business and as a way to help Michael make a comeback. I knew in my heart that I wanted to help Michael in anyway that I possibly could and I really did.
But I couldn’t help being afraid of what might happen on the other side of the nation.
And I was terrified of Prince.