Chapter 8--Continued

A Few Days Later

The rest of the first week with Prince had really been on the verge of enjoyable. We were really getting along inside and outside of the studio, and in the mornings, I was actually happy to see him and took pleasure in his company. In many ways, he was like Michael. He was extremely serious about his music, but when the time called for it, he could relax and hang like anyone. We had even sat one afternoon and watched Gone with the Wind together! I felt that I was getting to know the man, and unlike his raw and sexual image, Prince appeared to be quieter and a bit more reserved. I had learned that Prince was a Gemini and that had probably been why one minute he was trying to toss me in his bed and the next he was sharing a bowl of popcorn with me.
I was really warming up to him.
And when I woke up that morning and dropped on my robe before breakfast, I had a question I was bubbling to ask him. And I was determined to get the answer I wanted out of him.
Upon entering the dining room, I saw that Prince wasn’t at the table.
Instead, seated at the head of the table, and wholly chowing down on Crepe Suzettes was none other than Morris Day.
“Good morning Morris,” I greeted him and took my seat at his left side.
“Well well,” Morris looked me up and down, his large dark eyes growing wider. “Good morning Miss Brynn!”
I was fighting with myself not to laugh at Morris.
He was wearing one heck of a mean suit! (Or maybe it was wearing him.) It was made similar to a zoot suit with an extremely long coat that appeared to hang to his knees. The coat was made of a bright metallic gold and pink floral print and fastened with large gold buttons. Under them he wore a plain white shirt and a thin black tie. Matching black slacks finished the look with black wing tip shoes. It was a vast improvement over the shoes from the day before, but it way amazing to me that he was still rocking the same looks from about 1985 and nobody had clued him in to a different type of clothing. Even Michael had given up wearing his trademark glove unless he was performing!
Juan-Carlos appeared and set a plate and my usual cup of coffee before me.
“How are you today Miss Brynn?” He asked casually.
“I’m fabulous. And yourself?” I took a sip of coffee, letting the caffeine fill my body.
“Oh, can’t complain. Hanging in there. You know how it goes.” He shrugged and gave me a grin.
“Where’s Prince? Is he tied up in the studio again?” I wondered and forked some food into my mouth.
“No…brother went upstairs for something about twenty minutes ago. Didn’t tell me what he was after though.” Morris rubbed his mustache.
We didn’t have to wait long for Prince to make his appearance.
“Morning.” He said quietly entering the room. He could have made an entrance without saying a word. Prince was clad in a hot pink, glittery, lacy shirt that looked somewhat like the ones he’d worn in the early 80s. It was a mass of ruffles. Matching trousers and boots completed the look.
His pants were a change. They just barely hung onto hips.
A different pendant hung around his neck. It was silver and was an interlocking NPG, covered with diamonds. (I understood that Prince’s first band, The Revolution, broke up in the mid-80s and that his current band was called The New Power Generation, NPG for short.)
Prince’s hair was blown straight into his eyes once again. I noticed that Prince didn’t seem to dress for the weather, but for whatever he seemed to like at the moment.
Morris and I replied quietly.
I waited until Prince had a mouthful of food before I launched my question on him. That way, if he started raising hell, he’d probably choke first.
“Prince…” I started softly.
“Hmm?” Prince chased his Crepe with a swig of tea.
“Um, today is Saturday right?” I blew a lock of hair out of my eyes.
“Yes.” He set his mug down and looked at me.
“I was wondering if, um…” I trailed off as both Prince and Morris leaned into listen to me. “I was wondering if I could wear something more casual today, since it’s the weekend.” I forced the rest of the words out my mouth in one breath.
Prince glanced at Morris and smiled. “What did you have in mind for ‘casual‘?” He questioned.
“Well, all week I’ve danced to your tune and I wore the little barely there outfits for you, could I wear something that included pants? Maybe even jeans?” I gave him big puppy dog eyes and poked my bottom lip out.
“I dunno.” Prince rubbed his chin. “What do you think Morris, should I let her have some jeans today?” He questioned staring across the table at his friend.
“I don’t know Prince, I mean Miss Brynn be looking good in those little skirts man!” Morris cackled. “Got those pretty legs.”
“Shut up Morris! You aren’t helping!” I exclaimed and punched his arm lightly.
“And besides, you might not have noticed, but it is like twelve degrees outside and my legs and thighs kind of need a break from being hit with icy winds!” I blew a lock of hair out of my eyes.
I reached over and tugged on Prince’s sleeve. “Please? I’ve been good.” I grinned.
Prince nibbled on his bottom lip before saying, “Well, as I guess so. But I’ll have to call Mindy right now to have her change the outfits.”
He tapped his cheek with his fingertips, indicating he wanted me to kiss his cheek.
“Thanks!” I leaned and smooched his cheek loudly.
“Where’s my kiss?” Morris asked snidely as Prince excused himself to call Mindy.
“Your kiss?” I rolled my eyes at him. “You didn’t help me at all dude.”
“I think I should get a kiss just for being Morris Day!” Morris slammed his hand on the table and poked out his lips.
I lifted my coffee mug to my lips and replied smoothly, “Wander around Minneapolis long enough, somebody’ll kiss you. Maybe.” I giggled.
“You’re no good!” Morris laughed and tapped my shoulder.


* * *

“How are you today?” Michael asked over the speakerphone of my cell as I got dressed that morning.
“Oh, I’m fine, how are you?” I called. Mindy was holding my cell phone over the door of the stall. I was ecstatic to finally be wearing a pair of jeans.
But as I picked up the shirt I was going to wear that day, I saw that Prince has dealt me another crooked card. I may not have been showing leg, but my stomach would be out. In my hands was a white, cropped T-shirt with Prince’s name and symbol emblazoned on it in bright red.
“I’m doing good.” Michael giggled as I slipped the shirt over my head. “What’s your apartment like?”
I looked up with a start. “My apartment?” I repeated. I had been so busy with Prince that it had slipped my mind that I was supposed to have moved out of his house and into my private apartment two days earlier. Or at least that’s what Prince had told me when I first seen him.
“Yes honey, you’re supposed to be staying in an apartment downtown right?” Michael prodded.
“Well I haven’t moved out just yet.” I fiddled with my fingers, bracing for Michael to unleash a torrent of wailings about my still being there. He said just the opposite.
“I’m not sure if I want you to move out.” Michael said softly.
I stared at Mindy blankly. She shrugged and I took my phone from her.
“You don’t want me to move out, why?” I questioned sitting on the couch in the middle of the salon and putting on the red knee-length boots that completed my outfit. I left my phone on speaker so I could at least have a witness to what Michael’s logic was.
“Brynn, I was thinking about it. You’re way over in Minneapolis sweetie. You don’t really know your way around there and I wouldn’t be able to sleep if I knew you were alone in an apartment. At least if you’re with Prince at his home, you have company. So if he does try to move you out into an apartment, tell him I insist that you stay. Okay?” Michael explained.
“Sure…okay Michael.” I half replied, pondering why he would have wanted me to stay with Prince.
“Good. I’ll talk to you later. I know you’re busy. Love you.” Michael hee-hee’d.
“Love you, too.” I whispered and closed my phone. Setting it down, I asked Mindy, who was starting to clear her station,
“Hey, have you hear Prince mention anything about getting my apartment together?” I knew that Prince probably would have said something while getting his hair done in the mornings.
“Nope not at all.” Mindy said quickly and I got a inkling that she wasn’t tell me everything she knew.
“Are you sure Minds? Because I’d hate to have ask Prince face to face when I could avoid a complete train wreck if you’d just tell me.” I tapped my foot on the floor.
Mindy sighed and turned to me.
“Alright, Mr. Prince isn’t probably going to get you an apartment, because the last time he paid for one for a woman it got him in a lot of trouble. A lot.”
Mindy walked over and sat next to me.
“What happened? I swear I won’t tell.” I vowed. Somehow I knew that whatever Mindy told me wouldn’t be idle gossip.
“You see, when I first started working for Mr. Prince, I had just gotten out of cosmetology school and had moved here from New York. I didn’t have much money or anything like that. So Mr. Prince paid for me an apartment downtown. The same one I live in now.” Mindy looked down at her hands. “At the same time, he and Manuela had been married for about maybe a year, if that much. From the start I don’t think Manuela liked me very much, because we’re about the same age and all. And she thought I might have been flirting with Mr. Prince. I didn’t. I’m just friendly. You know that.” Mindy gave me a small smile.
“Of course” I nodded.
“Manuela didn’t really want to do anything with me. She even hired her own person to do her hair and make-up instead of using me. And every now and then, I’d hear her arguing with Mr. Prince about me being here and working for him.” Mindy looked up at me, sadness filling her green eyes. “She tolerated me for the length of their marriage, but I know that she thinks Mr. Prince and I had an affair. Mr. Prince never told her he was paying for my apartment, and when she came across the bank statement that listed some money going to my apartment, she damn near blew the roof off this place. I’ll never forget that day.” Mindy shook her head and ran her hand through her hair. I saw that it was trembling.
“It’s okay.” I patted her knee. I knew that whatever had went down must have been traumatic because I had never seen Mindy looked unhappy since I had met her.
“It was really early and as usual I was doing Mr. Prince’s hair and stuff and Manuela burst in here with the bank statement in her hand. She was screaming and crying and demanding to know why he was paying for an apartment in my name. She ran over to me and called me a bitch and everything and Mr. Prince was trying to calm her down. She was hitting him and cursing him. People from all over Paisley Park came running to see what was going on. We thought we were going to have to call the police on her because she was punching Prince and she even hit me in my nose. And in front of everyone, she said, “I’m getting a divorce!” and they’ve been separated ever since. Months now. Brynn…I never had an affair with Mr. Prince. Never.” Mindy looked up at me as tears started tumbling down her cheeks.
“I believe you Mindy.” I reached out and hugged her. “But I guess it’s kind of hard to not be jealous of other women around Prince. I mean, the guy is very attractive.” My face warmed as I thought about how good-looking Prince was.
“But Brynn, it’s impossible for me to like Prince.” Mindy said quietly.
“I’m…I’m not attracted to men.” She looked off in the distance.
That hit me like a brick. I had no idea that Mindy was a lesbian. I kind of figured that every woman within a 500 mile radius of Paisley Park would be trying to throw their underwear at Prince--with them still in it.
I gazed at Mindy, feeling truly sad for her. She had been accused of something she hadn’t done. Regardless of her sexual orientation, she had been caught in a jealous crossfire. And so had Prince.
“It was so hard on Mr. Prince. I didn’t see him for a week, because he didn’t leave his house. Juan-Carlos told me that Mr. Prince wasn’t eating his meals. A lot of us were on edge because we didn’t know if what was going on or what he was doing Brynn. Juan-Carlos told me that the last time he’d seen Prince like that was when he and his first wife, Mayte broke up. And they had been together for almost ten years. Juan-Carlos said that Prince was distraught that he thought the man was going to kill himself.” Mindy put her head in her hands.
I stared open mouthed at her.
Prince? Kill himself? The thought was so far off in the Twilight Zone and foreign to me. I had never even seen Prince cry! I didn’t think he was the type who would be suicidal. The more I mulled it over, it was a plausible idea. The night Prince had kissed me I had wanted to die. I assumed under acute amounts of stress a person was capable of anything.
And as I was about to find out, not only stress triggered unusual reactions.
Near Studio D
Paisley Park Studios
Forty Five Minutes Later

My head was still buzzing from the story that Mindy had told me. It was incredible to think that she might have been Cause Number One for the splitting of Prince and Manuela. And I was also wondering why Prince had split with his first wife, Mayte, but I had enough tact to not open my mouth and ask. Those were extremely personal matters. And the last thing I needed was a petite man in stilettos beating me with a guitar.
Making my way down the blank hall to the studio, it was amazing to me how calm Prince stayed. I guessed that since he was a man, he had to be stronger, because almost all men had that “macho-complex” where they had to be big and resilient in even the most uncomfortable of times.
I had the assumption that Prince was acting arrogant to hide what I was sure a raw vulnerability from watching another marriage crash and burst into flames right before his eyes.
Placing my hands on the doors of the studio, I made a mental note to clear my mind and try to focus on whatever it was Prince had planned to do that particular day.
Upon entering Studio D, I saw that Prince and Morris were perched on the large speakers--Morris’ legs dangling and Prince sitting Indian-style-- and appeared to be engrossed in a quiet conversation, their heads close together.
As I quietly made my way over to them, I tried to appear cool and not give off any signals that I knew anything I wasn’t supposed to. I just had to try to push my new-found Prince tidbits to the back of my head--or better, out of my head.
I stood at the base of the speakers, not wanting to disturb the men, because for one of the few times I had seen them together, they actually looked serious.
After about five minutes, Morris glanced down. Speaking out loud, he announced, “Woo! Look at the devil with the blue jeans on!”
Putting on an effervescent grin, I spun in a circle. “You like?”
Morris’ large eyes bulged.
“Yes…” He hissed and chuckled. “Man, how the hell is it possible?” Morris slapped a hand to his forehead. “No matter what you toss on, you look good Miss Brynn!” He shook his head and wiggled his eyebrows at me.
“Thanks Morris.” I grinned.
Prince, who had been quiet throughout the entire exchange, he was looking down at me and I could make out a small smirk on his lips.
“And you, Prince, do you like what I have on?” I asked, a sudden shyness consuming me.
“I don’t know.” Prince sighed, and I could tell he was only pretending.
“Say what?” I put my hands on my hips and pouted up at him.
“I said I don’t know.” Prince repeated.
“I’d like to know why.” I demanded.
“Well, for starters, you still look kind of kiddish.” He waved his hand over my head.
“How in the hell do I look kiddish? I mean I’m standing here in freaking five inch heels with my stomach out and hello, your name is on the shirt!” I rolled my eyes.
“Me and Morris was just talking about that.” Prince announced and stood on top of the speaker.
“Oh…” I looked down at my hands.
“You know, I had a nice little chat with Mindy this morning.” I jumped back as Prince leaped off the speaker and landed in a crouched position before me. How he landed in heels without breaking his ankles, I’ll never know.
Prince looked down at his feet as he rose up.
“She said that you sent a photo of yourself to Michael Jackson the other day.” He said quietly and I stared up at him, unable to speak.
“She also said that Michael was none too pleased with how you looked for some reason.” Prince continued, rubbing his chin. “Now I want to understand something…” Prince brought his head up and give me a large grin. “Were you not completely dressed?”
“Yes.” I glanced from Prince and up at Morris who was observing the scene, and nodding with every word that came out of Prince’s mouth.
“And weren’t you perfectly made up and coiffed?” Prince approached me.
“Yes.” I made up my mind to never put another call to Michael on speakerphone the rest of my stay in Minnesota.
“Hmmm…you hear that Morris? Michael was bitching about Brynn looking all nice yesterday.” Prince shook his head and Morris cackled.
Unable to stop myself, I blurted, “At least I’m not wearing neon pink, looking like a bottle of Pepto-Bismol up in here!”
Prince’s face twisted into a frown.
Above us, Morris laid on the speakers laughing uproariously and obnoxiously.
Prince crossed his arms and approached and once again he was invading my personal space.
Cocking his head arrogantly to one side, Prince asked, “Do you think Michael would like to see how you look this time? Or does he have a thing against belly buttons being out.”
I was so close to telling Prince that there had been times Michael had kissed my belly button, that I almost amputated my own tongue when I bit down on it.
Being just as arrogant as Prince, I replied, “I think Michael would approve of what I have on. I have similar outfits to it at home…”
As Prince’s face started to soften, I went for the jugular.
“…and so does his daughter.”
“She’s killing me! She’s killing me! Damn!” Morris was on his back kicking like a Big Mouth Bass out of water.
“You know I wish Michael could get a photo of you now just so I could hear how’d he react.” Prince sauntered around behind me.
I instinctively put my hand over my right pocket, where my cell phone was tucked away. I didn’t want him to utilize the camera function on it.
“Well too bad you don’t have a camera.” I said calmly though my soul was shaking.
“Oh but I do.” Prince giggled in my ear. “Yo Morris!” He called.
I almost fainted and fell on Prince when Morris sat upright and produced my little red camera out of the breast pocket of his tacky jacket.
“How’d you get that?” I exclaimed fuming up at Morris.
“Went on a little walk through your room and found it on the dresser.” Prince laughed. “Funny, it was completely empty of photos too.”
“I thought you were done playing Sherlock.” I glared back at Prince.
He gave me a wide grin. “Smile Brynn.”
Before I could move, Prince wrapped his arms around my bare midsection and pulled me against his body in a hug.
I looked up in time to see the flash on my camera go off.
“Oh damn you.” I said weakly. I could just hear Michael ranting and asking why the hell Prince was even touching me!
“Man get off me!” I pulled Prince’s hand loose, some of the glitter of his outfit getting on my hands and stormed up onstage to where Morris sat.
“Gimme that!” I held my hand out at him and tapped my foot impatiently.
“Why should I give it to you?” Morris cackled shaking the phone at me.
“Cause if you don’t, I’ll knock the gel out your hair!” I screamed.
“I’m not wearing gel. I have pomade in my hair.” Morris simpered and twirled my phone in his hands.
“Look Morris, I don’t care if you have dog shit in your hair, give me my camera!”
To my annoyance, Morris threw the camera over my head and I whirled around to see Prince catch it as he got onto the stage.
While I was distracted, Morris latched onto my leg and grinned.
Another flash went off and my temper was soaring out of control.
“That’s it!” I shrieked and unable to restrain myself, I found that my hands were clenched into fists and pummeling Prince. I didn’t even remember running over to him.
“Hey! Hey! Hey! Stop! Damn! Quit! I ain’t into all that!” Prince exclaimed and I felt hands grab me.
I looked back to see Morris holding onto my arms.
Struggling against him, I screamed, “If you would have given me my camera, I wouldn’t have hit you!”
Prince held it out. “Here take it.” He shook his head, through with the matter.
Yanking free of Morris, I grabbed the camera. “You play too damn much man.”
“You’re wound too fucking tight!” Prince accused and smoothed his hair angrily. “You ain’t funky at all.” He poked out his bottom lip.
I don’t know why, but for some reason, out of the blue I felt unnaturally peaceful.
“Funky? You don’t think I’m funky? I’ll show you funky Mr. Prince.” I tossed my camera over my shoulder.
“Morris, be a doll and take a few pictures.” I called casually walking up to Prince.
“It’ll be a cold rainy day in hell before you get funky.” Prince challenged.
“Get ready to dodge flying icicles, babe.” I tossed my hair.
I made my way behind him. I placed one arm around his small waist and impulsively placed my other hand smack in the middle of his chest hair.
Positioning my chin on Prince’s shoulder, I gave Morris, who was poised to shoot a wink and gave Prince a smoldering pout.
Prince gave me one look and followed suit mugging for the camera.
After Morris took the shot, I whispered in Prince’s ear,
“Was that funky enough for you?”
“That was funky enough for me!” Morris hooted.
Prince was even cooler, “That was a once in a lifetime shot. I bet you won’t do anything else like that!” He taunted.
I don’t know why, but I replied,
“I’ll take that bet. You call the next shot.”
Prince’s eyes turned emerald with amusement. “You’re trying to get funky.” He snickered, pulling me in front of him.
“Play your cards right, you might see me get freaky.” I raised an eyebrow.
“Oh damn! That girl is loosening up.” Morris murmured, putting his hand to his cheek.
Quoting Prince’s song, Baby I’m A Star, I said,
“Take a picture sweetie, I ain’t got time to waste!”
“Whoa who are you and what the hell have you done with Brynn?” Prince laughed, his voice reaching into it’s higher registers.
“Do you care?” I flipped my hair in his face. “Now you gonna call the shot or what?”
“I told you she was bound to snap like this man!” Morris said matter-of-factly.
Prince ignored Morris. “Bend over.” He told me.
Sassy as ever, I retorted, “Shouldn’t you buy me dinner first?”
Grinning, Prince gave me a firm push and I obeyed by falling at the waist.
I felt a rush of blood to my head as Prince grabbed onto my hips and squished my bottom against his groin.
“It’s getting nasty up in here.” Morris chuckled and took the shot.
Standing up, I leaned to the side of Prince and said, “Loosen that tie M.D.”
In a flash that was beyond me, I found that I had placed my tongue against Prince’s left cheek, just under his mole. He laughed shyly and grinned.
Taking a picture, Morris asked meekly, “Should I leave y’all alone? It’s about five seconds from getting XXX-rated in this mother!”
Morris stamped his foot.
Walking over to Morris and taking my camera from him, I said with a relish and perk of knowing that I had probably one-upped Prince and Morris,
“That’s the difference between a woman and lady: a lady knows when to stop, and a woman doesn’t.”
Then brushing back past Prince, I said, “I don’t know what you had planned before all this went over, but if you’ll excuse me, it’s just too funky to breathe. Ciao.”
With that, I made my exit, leaving Morris and Prince giggling and trying to figure out what had just happened right before their very eyes.
* * *