Chapter 19

The Following Morning
Around Ten A.M.


“Hello, Front Desk, Claudia speaking.”
I sat in the front foyer of the large suite, twirling the cord of the clear and gold phone setting on a small table.
“Yes, I’d like to have a car pick me up and drive me over to Fifth Avenue. I, uh, I have some shopping I want to do.” I said quietly looking up at a painting of a dog with a dead duck clasped in it’s jaws.
I still felt weird about going off shopping. But I had no one to talk to. Michael had left at about six to get to the Upper East side of Manhattan for his meeting and Rusty and the Jackson trio had left about an hour later, destined for Brooklyn with the bodyguards.
“Name please?” Claudia had a heavy Brooklyn-ese accent.
“Brynn McAllister.” I replied.
“Oh you’re a guest of Mr. Jackson. He called a few hours ago and already arranged a car for you Miss McAllister. It’ll be around to pick you up in about forty-five minutes.” Claudia informed me.
“Michael already got me a car?” I was surprised, Michael had left no stone unturned.
“Yes, Miss McAllister. It’ll pick you up in the front of the building. You’ll be traveling in a red Land Rover. Just be down in the front lobby.”
“Thank you.” I said absently.
“You’re quite welcome Miss McAllister. Would you require anything else before you departure?” Claudia questioned.
“No, that’s all, thanks.” I hung up.
Standing I made my way over to a large mirror on the opposite side of the room.
I gave myself a once over. The weather New York was at unnatural highs for the fall--the temperatures were in the high seventies.
I wore white silk eyelet dress that buttoned up the front and white leather high-heeled sandals. My hair was pulled back into a ponytail exposing my made up face and silver hoop earrings. Silver bangles jangled on my right wrist.
I wondered if I gave off a sort of Charlotte from Sex and the City vibe.
Sweet and lady like.
I hoped I looked like the type of person who just naturally rode in Land Rovers around New York with a limitless credit card.
At the thought of the credit card, I pulled it out of the pocket hidden in my dress and stared it.
Anybody with a brain in their head knew that it was Michael’s unspoken attempt to keep up with Prince’s giving me a car. I didn’t know what to do with the car. I never even got to sit in it. I was certain that while we were in New York, the car was probably being chopped and sold for scrap.
Michael wasn’t going to buy another car--we had a driver at all times--but he was going to buy up most of the northern United States.
I hated that it seemed Michael felt like he was in competition with Prince.
There was no competition. Prince had been a fling--though it was flattering he considered my love making Ferrari worthy--but I was with Michael.
For the long haul.
Patting my hair, I gave myself one last look and made my way out of the room and into a main elevator to get to the lobby.
(If I tried to take a freight elevator, I’d never find the lobby!)
The elevator went down without stopping.
The lobby was totally different from the sixteenth floor. Instead of having an eighteenth century décor, the floor was totally modern and minimalist and in shades of black, white and red.
The lobby was pretty much empty except for a few front desk attendants.
A man sat in one of the square chairs that were scattered around the lobby. Behind him was a framed poster of Jimi Hendrix, in the middle of a wicked guitar solo. His face contorted to music long played.
Since it seemed he was the only form of life in the room, I went over to him.
Might as well make conversation.
“Hi, mind if I sit here? I’m just waiting on my ride.” I smiled.
The man looked up. He couldn’t have been any older than about twenty-five. He didn’t really look like a jetsetter.
He was dressed in a baggy yellow t-shirt with a black monogram of Bob Marley on it and baggy black shorts. Black flip flops covered his feet.
Thick, almost waist length dreadlocks tumbled around his caramel colored face.
“Yeah sure. I’m just killing time here too. Warren.” The man extended his hand to me.
“Brynn.” I shook his hand.
“So what are you doing a place like this? You look like a model.” Warren grinned, his grey eyes twinkling.
He unwittingly laid the ground work for a lie.
“Actually I am a model. I’m signed with Wilhelmina. I’m just crashing here until I got out on a job.” I nodded. All those months of watching America’s Next Top Model had paid off.
“Oh really? What are you shooting for?” Warren wondered and brushed a dreadlock out of his eyes. I noticed with an inner sigh of relief that he was wearing a gold wedding band on his left ring finger.
He was married.
The last thing I needed was some hound dog trying to hit on me.
“Oh, just a little Ralph Lauren thing. Nothing major.” I smiled.
“Oh cool. My wife wears a lot of Polo stuff.” Warren nodded.
He picked at his dreads again, trying to tuck them behind his right ear and an earring glinted at me.
My chest tightened when I noticed what the earring was.
A tiny gold version of Prince’s symbol.
“Uh, Warren…mind if I ask you a personal question?” I asked staring at the bauble.
“Shoot, I’m an open book!” Warren chuckled, crossing his legs.
“Are you a Prince fan?’ I sputtered.
Warren touched his ear. “Oh you saw this thing? Nah, that brother’s a little too out there for me. My wife, Ronesha, is nuts for the midget. That’s why I’m here now. Dragged me all the way from Yonkers here. She’s up trying to get onto the Penthouse floor. Word on the street is that he’s staying here.” Warren nodded and smiled warmly.
My heart quivered.
Prince was staying at the Windbush?
Of all the hotels in the state of New York, Michael had to pick the very same one Prince was in? And Prince was occupying the penthouse suite that Michael had wanted.
I looked at Warren with wide eyes. Maybe Warren was wrong.
Maybe his information was wrong. Maybe Prince was staying at the Ritz, or the Four Seasons, or not even in New York at all. Fans sometimes got information wrong and sometimes celebrities just liked goofing on their followers.
Maybe I was being Punk’d.
I looked around for Ashton Kutcher to jump out at me.
He never did.
I stared down as my hands started trembling so hard, my bracelets jingled.
“Are you okay?” Warren noticed I was shaking.
“Yeah, gosh, it’s really cold down in this lobby isn’t it?” I willed the muscles of my face to make a smile form on my face.
I wasn’t about to tell a total stranger that I was within an inch of soiling myself over the thought that the only thing separating Michael Jackson and Prince Nelson were a mere five floors.
The Penthouse occupied the twenty-fist floor of the Windbush Hotel.
I just hoped that one wouldn’t find out about the other staying in the next hotel.
I could just imagine the headlines:
King of Entertainment Slaughters His Royal Badness over Teen Lover.
I had to make sure that Prince never knew Michael and I were at the Windbush and that Michael never knew Prince was there.
I’d have to keep my nose clean and keep a low profile.
I had to make sure no one from Prince’s camp recognized me…
“Brynn?” A feminine voice asked and cool hand touched my bare arm.
I sighed. The driver of my Land Rover had arrived about twenty minutes early.
Now to get out of the hotel, onto Buyer’s Row and forget about the Purple Pimple.
(Or was it Purple Pimp?)
I grinned up to greet the driver.
It crumbled and fell off my face.
Standing over me, with a huge smile on her face was Mindy!
“M-Mindy?” I was breathless.
No! God No! It couldn’t be.
But it was her.
If Mindy was there…
Prince was there.
It was true.
“Yes!” Her smile was one of relief.
Leaning and embracing me, she said,
“I’ve been looking for you for the longest!”
I was speechless as she tugged me to my feet.
I could only look at her.
She was immaculately dressed in a deep yellow minidress covered with huge white polka dots.
Her hair hung in ringlets around her heavily made up face.
Chunky white bracelets covered her lower arms and a matching beaded necklace hung at her throat.
“Wow today must be my lucky day!” Warren exclaimed from behind me. “I get to see two models!”
“What?” Mindy was clearly confused and her pencil thin, light brown eyebrows furrowed as she tried to understand him.
“Yes, Warren, this is Mindy, she’s also shooting the Ralph Lauren ad with me.” I shot Mindy a stern look hoping that I could rope her into going in with the falsehood.
“Oh…” Mindy nodded, finally getting me. “Brynn, um, Mr. Nelson has been looking for you--” Mindy grinned a little too wide at Warren.
Prince was looking for me? He knew I was at the Windbush! How did he know?
I couldn’t go to pieces in front of Warren because he’d probably want to follow us to Prince and drag Ronesha, wherever she was, with us.
I had to keep up with my character.
“Our agent.” I explained. “It was nice talking to you Warren.” I said quickly grabbing onto Mindy’s hand and tugging her out of earshot as Warren bid us adieu.
Pulling her near the elevators I whispered.
“Mindy, please tell me that Prince is not here! Not in this hotel! Please?” I begged tugging her hand.
Mindy glanced around making sure no one was paying attention to us.
Seeing that no one was paying us any mind, she started to speak.
At that moment, the elevator doors behind us swung open.
“Put me down you big headed freak!” A woman screamed as a large White man who resembled Hulk Hogan, lifted her up over his shoulder and walked, with her kicking and flailing into the lobby.
The woman was very thin and light skinned. She couldn’t have been much older than me. Her outfit was unmistakable. She wore a black shirt with Prince’s symbol on the back of it in white. Long wavy auburn hair fell across her tear-stained face.
A symbol necklace swung from her neck as she continued raising hell.
“I know Prince is up there! Put me down you fat bastard! Ahhh! I saw him! I saw his shoe! Ahhh! Don‘t nobody else wear shoes like that!” She accused.
Across the room, Warren jumped out his chair and ran to the woman just as several hotel security men besieged her and took her from the large man.
The security men lifted who I presumed to be Ronesha up and quickly proceeded out the front doors with her.
Mindy and I stood and watched as they crudely dumped her onto the sidewalk in front of God and everybody.
I put my hands to my face. Prince really was there!
A fan had just gotten kicked out over him.
What was I going to do?
“Come with me.” Mindy grabbed at my hand. “Mr. Prince, is looking for you.” She repeated and led me into the still open elevator.
I didn’t know why I was going with her. I could have broken and run away.
Maybe I was afraid that if I didn’t go with her, Prince himself would come for me.
Then all Hell would have broken wild and loose.
She pressed a button marked ‘Penthouse’ and the doors closed around us.
After the doors had closed, I launched into her.
“Mindy, what the hell is Prince doing here? Why is he here at the Windbush? Michael Jackson is here!” I exclaimed leaning against one of the mirrored walls of the elevator.
A shiny, reflective coffin.
I slapped the ‘Stop’ button and we hung between the tenth and eleventh floors.
Mindy bit her bottom lip nervously.
“How did he know I was here?” I demanded.
I had only seen Prince two days ago when he had turned Neverland upside down and almost got beaten to a pulp by Michael and his brothers. There was no way I could think of that Prince could have found out that Michael was at the Windbush.
Liberty had said the day before that the hotel had a strict customer confidentiality policy.
“I don’t know.” Mindy shrugged. “He just did. When he got back to Minneapolis from Los Angeles, he said, ‘Pack up Mindy, we’re going to New York City.'” She explained.
The elevator spun under me.
How did he know so quickly that Michael was booked at this hotel?
Something didn’t add up.
“I can’t see him.” I looked down at my hands.
It wasn’t fair to Michael. In no way shape or form could I see myself going to see Prince at the Windbush. It just wasn’t right.
I was supposed to be on my way to go shopping.
This was a nightmare.
Mindy panicked.
“Oh Brynn! Please!” She exclaimed shrilly. “You have to! I’ve been walking around the hotel since five a.m. looking for you. And I spent all last night walking and looking. Mr. Prince says he’ll fire me if I can’t get you to him today!” Mindy sobbed, her mascara smearing, sending charcoal tears down her cheeks. “Brynn, I can’t get fired! I don’t want to have to move back to Staten Island and live with my mommy!” She pleaded.
I stared down at Mindy in shock.
I couldn’t believe Prince had put Mindy’s job on the line.
“Are you serious?” I just couldn’t form the idea in my head that Prince had threatened Mindy’s employment.
“Yes. Oh Brynn! Please go see him! I don’t want to move back to Staten Island! You’re supposed to be my friend! Please!” Mindy actually dropped to her knees and hugged my waist.
My mind was flying too fast. I couldn’t see Prince, but I didn’t want Mindy to be a casualty.
Prince knew exactly what his little ass was doing.
He knew I liked Mindy as a friend and wouldn’t want to jeopardize her in any way.
Damn, I was in a tight spot.
“All…all right.” I sighed heavily, feeling despair. “I’ll go see him.”
The weight of the world was on my shoulders.
Mindy looked up at me, her face glowing. “You’ll go? You will? Oh thank you!” Mindy dropped into a seated position and pulled a cell phone out of her pocket.
I stared ay my reflection.
What the hell was I doing?
Just what was I doing?
She quickly flipped it open and dialed a number.
“Mr. Prince?” She said quietly.
“Yes…yes sir, I found her! I’m bringing her up now. Yes sir, we’ll be there in a minute!” Mindy punched the ‘Penthouse’ button again, setting the elevator back into motion.
“Thank God! Mr. Prince is happy!” Mindy said closing the phone and climbing to her feet.
“He would be.” I thought bitterly.
“Brynn, are you really seeing Michael Jackson too?” Mindy asked after a silent moment.
I glanced at her. “Yeah.” I nodded grimly.
“Gee…” Mindy giggled. “I kind of figured that. The way he was pissed at Mr. Prince at Paisley Park.”
Yeah, that was good, bring that disaster in the time/space continuum back up.
“Mindy,” I glanced at her. “I know about your preferences, but would you do what I’m doing, seeing two men?” I questioned.
“I dunno. Maybe. Mr. Jackson and Mr. Prince are nice looking. They are pretty enough to be women.” Mindy blushed.
Yeah, that helped a lot.
We reached the all exclusive Penthouse suite and Mindy punched in a code on a small keypad that made the doors swing open.
Mindy led the way into the suite which yielded immediately to sitting area.
The room had a 1960s, futuristic feel to it.
The room was bathed in shades of blue, white and yellow.
Several egg shaped chairs hung from the ceiling, suspended by clear beaded ropes.
The room led off to a long hallway and end of the hall was a set of large blue double doors, funky star shaped figures protruding from them.
Mindy looked around.
“Mr. Prince? Mr. Prince--we’re here!’ She called out timidly.
A light rock instrumental played from somewhere.
Other than that, silence.
And just like Prince’s home and studio, the place was heavily scented with vanilla.
“Mr. Prince?” Mindy questioned again looking around.
“I guess he’s not here.” I said edging back towards the elevator.
At that moment, one of the egg chairs spun around.
Prince sat Indian-style in the chair.
I swallowed hard.
“Oh, Mr. Prince! I found Brynn!” Mindy exclaimed happily and threw her arm around my shoulders.
Prince dropped his feet from the chair and walked over slowly.
His head was lowered and I could see him licking at his lips.
He looked funkier than I had ever seen him.
He wore a long red lame trench coat that just brushed the tops of the black boots covering his feet. It kind of resembled the coat he had worn in his Purple Rain movie. A placket of pyramid shaped studs covered the right shoulder of the coat.
A black handkerchief was tied around his throat.
And his hair…oh Lord…his hair.
It was parted down the middle and appeared to have been crimped and fluffed a bit too much, yielding to a somewhat frizzed look.
His make up was fairly natural except for thick black liner rimming his eyelids and mascara crusting his lashes.
His light eyes glowed at the sight of me.
He glanced at Mindy. Her face was still streaked with black.
“Fix your make up, Mindy. You look terrible.” He commented snidely and picked at his hair.
“Hmmm…you brought my pretty little Brynn to me.” Prince smiled, getting a bit too close to me. His cologne was engulfing me.
What had he done, put it on with a plant sprayer?
“Hail Mary, Full of Grace, Pray for us Sinners…”
“Yes sir. She was in the lobby.” Mindy bragged as if I was a moose she had shot and strapped to the hood of her car.
“Yeah, I’m supposed to go shopping. There’s a car downstairs waiting to take me to Fifth Avenue.” I explained, once again inching towards to the elevators.
“Oh shopping. Mindy can do that for you.”
Prince indicated Mindy with a flick of his head.
“No, I have to go shopping.” I pulled my credit card out of my pocket and showed it to Prince. I hoped that he saw my name and realized only I could use the card.
Not a smart thing to do.
Prince quickly snatched it from me.
“Huh…Jacko gave you a credit card. That’s cute.”
He tapped the card with a manicured nail. “I’ve seen these before. They have no limit.” Prince chuckled. “Aw, Mindy, isn’t that cute, he’s trying to keep up with the car I gave her.”
Mindy head down, wiping at her cheeks, hummed in agreement.
I snatched the card back. “The name is Jackson, not Jacko. And he could care less about competing with you. He’s in his own league.” I replied coldly. It plucked my nerves that Prince was once again making fun of Michael.
“Yeah, it’s called ‘Extraterrestrial’!” Prince doubled over laughing and grabbed the card again.
Throwing it at Mindy, he instructed coolly, “Take this and go buy some things for Brynn. Bring them back here later. Get some shit that Michael would like. You know, like a nun’s habit.” Prince chuckled.
“Um…yes, sir.” Mindy started towards the elevator.
“Wait a minute!” I spun and grabbed Mindy’s shoulder. “You don’t have to go. I’ll go!” I insisted. I knew why Prince wanted me there.
You didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to guess.
He was probably in the buff under that coat.
Prince’s lips brushed my earlobe as he whispered,
“You don’t let Mindy go, and I’ll give Michael a little call and let him know just where you are.”
I shook off the slight chill I got.
“You don’t know where Michael is.” I glanced back at him and tossed my ponytail arrogantly.
My heart rate plummeted when Prince replied.
“Oh, but I do. Trust me, I do. His ass is over in Manhattan now. In a meeting with some music execs.” Prince chortled and ran his hand down my back, causing me to jump.
Was Prince psychic? How did he know so much?
“Looks like you’re in a tight spot.” Prince giggled.
I wanted to pull every kinky strand of hair out his head.
To Mindy he instructed, “Go ahead on down to that car. Brynn’s not going anywhere. This Pretty Baby is staying with me today.”
“Yes, sir.” Mindy pressed the button opening the door to the elevator and got on.
I watched helplessly as she waved feebly and the doors closed.
She actually had the nerve to mouth the words “I’m sorry.”
I was once again alone with Prince.
I stared at the closed doors.
Prince stepped around me and stood in front of the doors making it clear that I wasn’t going to get away from him.
“Why are you here? How did you know Michael was here?” I questioned, feeling as though I was going to ralph up everything I had ever eaten in my life all over the aqua tile floor.
Prince ignored my inquiry.
“You look nice today Brynn. That dress suits you.” He remarked placing his hand under my chin and causing me to look up at him.
I regarded him icily.
“What? Aren’t you happy to see me?” Prince teased in a singsong voice.
“I’m happy to see you.” He leaned and his lips sought out mine.
I forgot how Prince’s mouth was. How rough and rouge it was. How it seemed to perpetually taste of mints.
Prince raised his arm and put it around my neck pulling me in closer against his slim body.
The kisses he showered on me came even harder. My lips felt sore and raw.
My heart pounded as Prince wrapped his other around me.
Suddenly Prince pulled back and smooched the tip of my nose.
Gave me a sly smile. I was quite sure he had something obscene in mind.
“How did you know Michael was here?” I whispered, trying to catch my breath. I couldn’t let Prince seduce me again. I just couldn’t. I had to be stronger for Michael. I just had to.
“I’ll tell you later. Right now, I wanna show you something Ba-aby.” Prince murmured the last word and kissed my cheek again.
He started to tug at my arm.
“Show me what?” I cautioned. I could only imagine what Prince wanted to do. And for how long.
“Something special.” Prince winked at me. “Follow me.”
He dropped my arm and started swaggering towards the double doors at the end of the hall, hands shoved in the pickets of the coat.
I remained rooted to the spot.
A little nagging voice in the back of my head was telling me not to go after this man. It was too peculiar.
Midway down the hall, Prince realized he was the only one walking.
He spun and motioned at me with his finger.
“You don’t really want me to go in there and call the Missoni Grill. That is where your dear Michael is making his negotiations today. I’ll bet he’s right in the middle of the salad course now.”
Every hair on my head stood on end.
How in the hell did he know that Michael was at the Missoni Grill Restaurant?
And was this man really trying to blackmail me?
“You know Michael is at the Missoni Grill?” Not really thinking about it, I stalked over to Prince, worries consuming me.
“I know lots of things.” Prince giggled. Why was everything a riddle with him?
“Now I got something to show you.” He placed his hand on my back.
It slid down and patted my butt.
“Prince!” I cried and stepped back from him.
“What?” Prince squinted at me and placed his hands on his hips.
His jacket glittered.
“I…I can’t do this…” I stared at him.
Prince stared back plainly. All readable emotion disappeared from his face.
“I…can’t have sex with you. I can’t keep doing this to Michael. I owe Michael so much, Prince. And I love Michael.” I shook my head feeling a wave of tears starting to make their way up from their ducts to my eyes.
Prince’s face hardened and he reached out and grasped my shoulders firmly.
“Brynn…” His voice was like ice in the air.
His eyes widened as he looked me up and down.
“This might come as a shock to your system…but I’m not gonna fuck you.” He said solemnly.
I gazed at him in wonder. He wasn’t going to try anything nasty with me?
Who was he and what had he done with Prince?
“You’re…you’re not?” I wasn’t sure I could trust him. I mean, I was talking to Prince.
“Yes Brynn. I love you. Sex isn’t everything to me, you know.” Prince rolled his eyes. “What I feel for you, it goes deeper than the flesh. And besides I like a challenge.” His eyes danced with a wildness I hadn’t before seen.
“A challenge?” What was this man talking about? Had he had a few too many of those rum spiked apple ciders he’d fed me in Minneapolis?
“Yes. You’re scared to even really touch me. I can tell.”
Prince ran a hand under his nose, curving up and pushed it through his hair.
“The way Michael Jackson was holding onto you when I gave you the car. If he had you around the throat any tighter, he’d have choked you to death.” Prince chuckled.
‘But I’m not even gonna touch you--maybe--but trust me, when I get done, I might have to knock you off with a crowbar.” A mousy grin.
I felt my eyebrows going up.
So many unanswered questions.
“Come on Sugar.” Prince interlocked his fingers with mine and led me to the double doors.
I tottered along behind him.
He pushed the doors open with toe of his boot.
I gazed into the master suite of the Penthouse.
I felt like I had stepped into an Austin Powers movie.
The room was papered in a deep tone of blue, highlighted by white lacquered furniture. The focal point of the room was a large round bed, swathed with spangled white and yellow gold sheets. There was even a lava lamp on the bedside table. The windows on either side of the bed were opened and I could see a part of Central Park through them. The view was almost nicer than the one in Michael’s room.
The guitar music seemed to be louder and I noticed as Prince led through the doors that a large stereo occupied an entertainment cabinet.
A white chair was setting just in front of the bed and at the base of it off to the side was a blue pitcher of iced water and a matching blue tumbler.
“Take a seat Brynn. The show is about to start.” Prince said deeply, pushing me towards the chair.
“Show? What show?” I wondered.
Prince puckered his lips at me slyly for a moment and then made his way around the room, shutting the curtains.
The only light came from the recessed fixtures half hidden in the ceiling.
He then closed the double doors.
I brought my hand to my mouth and began nibbling my nails.
If Prince wasn’t going to “do” me, just what was up the sleeves of that gaudy coat he wore?
His back to me, Prince fiddled with the knobs on the stereo.
Another funky-fused upbeat instrumental, composed mostly of a bass guitar screeching and drums playing.
“This is a special piece I created for you.” Prince announced walking over.
He stopped several feet in front of me.
Placing one hand on his tiny hip and the other behind his head, Prince began rolling his hips about in a circle to the music.
“Oooh yeah! Oooh yeah! I’m gonna bust that body! Oooh yeah! I’m gonna bust that body right!” Prince sang in a chant. Every three beats he alternated his arms.
This is what Prince wanted to do? Dance?
Was he kidding? Even though I had never really seen Prince dance before, I knew Michael could out dance him any day of the week. (Because, he was Michael Jackson!)
Prince jumped into the air and turned his back to me, shaking his bottom back and forth in beat.
His head dipped down and I could hear him fumbling with the buttons on the coat.
He jumped back around, a smirk on his face.
He held the coat closed tightly.
“I got a gift for you…all the way from Minneapolis! Ooh--ooh! Uptown!” He wailed and snatched the coat open.
And let it drift to the marble floor.
A startled gasp escaped my mouth.
Under the coat, he wore a long red t-shirt that had been cut along the bottom and sleeves and tied off with black and silver beads into a makeshift fringe. A silver chain belt cinched the waist of shirt. Under the shirt he wore a skimpy pair of black bikini underwear.
(Who knew he actually possessed a pair of underwear?)
A familiar bulge swung with his every movement.
His legs were covered up to the thighs with black stockings.
A black lace arm sock covered his right arm from the wrist to the elbow.
His gender-bending attire intrigued me. I was trying my hardest to not be sucked in.
He looked like he should have been somewhere on a street corner in Soho with a price tag attached to him.
Kicking the coat aside, Prince kicked his leg out and dropped to the floor in a split, bouncing several times before hopping back to his feet.
The beat of the music changed. Slowed a bit and a piano laced tune faded in.
Accommodating his movements to the new sounds, Prince turned his back to me again and rocked his hips again.
He brought his hands up rubbed his ripe, plump booty.
It seemed larger and firmer than I had remembered.
“Pardon me--my ass has a mind of it’s own!” Prince chuckled.
He spread his legs and bent down a little, hands on his knees, swirling his bottom.
I clasped my hands so tightly together, I heard the bones pop and I think a nail pierced my skin.
All of sudden I wanted to reach out and grab his butt.
The feeling was overwhelming.
Oh why did I find his best feature to be his butt?
Prince straightened back up and I noticed that a bit of fabric had wedged into the crevice of his bottom.
Taking his index fingers, Prince ran them underneath the fabric pulling the material out.
Not that it really helped. The bottoms of his cheeks were exposed and wiggling with every movement.
Prince dropped into a split and somehow threw himself in the air and he was facing me again.
“Hoo! Shit, this music is getting to me! How about you Baby?” Prince wore a wicked expression all over his face.
His eyes were mesmerizing. There was something so lower-level, sexual, and nasty about them. He hadn’t given me a look like that since I had “kissed” him in Minneapolis.
I could only nod. I had lost my ability to speak.
Prince pulled himself into a squatted position.
Moaning, he thrust his hips. His ‘junk’ jangled.
I covered my face, oceans of heat washing over me.
Prince continued making rude noises.
I dared another peek.
He was spread out like a crab on the floor, legs opened to me.
He was thrusting his hips even harder, making his ‘scepter’ bounce up and down.
Still pumping, Prince managed to hold himself with one hand and with the other was fanning his hand over his groin.
“Ugh! Oh shit.” He murmured.
The underwear was sliding off to the side a little and part of his “jewels” were peeping out. A thatch of hair gleamed at me.
I bit down on my finger to keep from screaming.
This dance! Why?
He flipped over onto his stomach and supporting himself with his arms, began pumping at the floor.
“Oh!” Another lusty wheeze evaded me. “God!”
I shut my eyes, trying to erase the obscene vision from my brain.
“I love you Baby…” Prince’s voice was soft as cotton.
I slowly opened my eyes.
Prince was lying at my feet, eyes huge and watching me.
With a self righteous grin, Prince brought a finger up to his mouth.
Extending his tongue, he swabbed his finger, his tongue flopping around like a rosy fish out of water.
He stroked my knee with the dampened fingertip.
His touch was pure fire.
I munched on my lip and twisted to the side, just out of his reach.
“You look hot Brynn…you want a drink of water?” Prince smoothly slid back onto his feet.
His heels clicked as he walked to the water pitcher beside me and poured a frosty glass of water. He stared me down, taking in my soul. My very fiber of being.
“Here.” He held the glass out to me.
I was afraid to grab at it.
“It’s just water, take it.” Prince shook the glass and the ice cubes tinkled.
I reached.
At the last second, Prince pulled the glass against him and turned it upside down, splashing his chest with cold water.
He squeaked. “Shoo…”
“Oh look at that.” He looked down and shook his head. “I’m all wet.”
A smile creased his face. “Are you wet, Brynn?” He snickered. He dropped the glass. It must have been plastic, because it merely bounced on the floor rather than breaking.
“No,” I said stubbornly. I wasn’t, but if this man kept this flash dance up…
“Aww, I’m not working hard enough.” Prince sighed, hands behind his back, looking up at the ceiling. He was oozing perversion.
Prince loosened the chain belt and brought it up, clenching the metal in his pearly little teeth. He growled at me and winked.
Then he tossed it across the room. It landed with a solid clank.
Gripping the shirt with his hands, Prince ripped as easily as if it were a sheet of paper, exposing his damp and sparkling chest.
Droplets in his chest hair twinkled.
He whipped the shirt over his head several times like a stripper before slamming it to the floor.
I put my hands to my mouth, captivated.
He yanked the handkerchief from his throat and tossed it in my lap.
“Put that where you want to Baby.” Prince snickered.
The music segued again. Now a drum was solidly tapping.
“Aw!” Prince screeched arm over head, and dramatically fell to the floor, rolling in the puddle of water he created when he dumped the glass.
A new expression of depravity washed over his face, making his eyes glow green. On other people, the green eyes may have been envy, on Prince, it was horny.
I put my hands on top of my head. I couldn’t believe that I was getting turned on by the display of filth.
But I was.
My heart was pounding, chest heaving…
Prince rose to his knees looking up at me innocently.
His eyes shone so fair.
Poking his tongue out again, licked his fingertips and ran then through his hair.
His light eyes flicked up and down, taking me in.
He was acting as though it was normal for him to be behaving this way.
Pretending to be a Chippendales dancer.
Perhaps it was normal for him.
He pursed his lips and rimmed them with his index finger several times.
Ran his hands down his slick, tight, little body down to his crotch.
Puffed and I could clearly see all of his ribs.
Prince reached out and placed his hand on my knee again, and with the other, rubbed at the fuzz on his chest.
“I know I’m nasty…are you nasty?” He questioned his voice otherworldly.
I gulped.
He was too fine. He was powder fine.
He fell back to the floor, and began pumping against it again, this time accenting ever pump with a scream.
“Ah! Ow! Ah! Ow!”
The music faded out.
Prince stared at me, moving his tongue around his mouth, making weird, semi circles.
His glare was deadly. Was he going to kill me?
“Stand up.” He ordered. His eyes were wide and demanding.
Something deep inside made me obey him.
How my legs supported me, I’ll never know.
Smirking, he turned away, his round booty about a foot away from me.
He was steadying himself on widely spread legs.
Slickly, Prince dropped at the waist.
Swirled his ass again.
I almost went through the roof when his hand shot out from between his legs and up my skirt.
“No!” I exclaimed as his fingers wiggled against my underwear. So close to my personal space. Too close.
“Damn, you’re wearing panties!” Prince stood.
He looked back and rubbed his nose.
“Of course I am! Did you think I was gonna walk around New York without them?” I gasped angrily still feeling his touch.
Prince ground his teeth into his bottom lip, eyeing me hungrily over his shoulder.
He backed up until his sinewy posterior collided against me.
“Oh yeah!” Prince put his arms over his head and bumped his booty against me. “I’m busting that body right!” He yelped.
And then I snapped. I don’t know what happened.
A wave of fire consumed me and I lost it.
I lost it.
“Prince!” I whined and wrapped my arms around his midsection which was starting to perspire. I tugged him against me.
Prince continued rolling and wiggling his hips.
I found myself kissing at the back of his moist neck and at his ears.
Fondling his chest. Even tweaking his little nipples.
Prince dropped his arms, and grabbed my hands, placing them over his “scepter and jewels”.
Holding my hands, he rubbed himself against my palms, through the wafer-thin black fabric. His voice slowed and a loud blare of unorganized notes spilled from the stereo.
He was completely aroused. And certain parts of him felt as if they had been stricken with rigor mortis they were so stiff.
“Ooh…yeah! Ooh!” Prince panted, pushing my hands up and down. “Bust that body…Baby.”
His genitals we so very hot.
Instead of trying to pull from him, I clutched at him, my own groans becoming louder.
Absently, I lifted one leg and rested it on his hip.
Round and round…up and down.
“UGH!” A loud moan escaped Prince and he squeezed down on my hands and wrists so hard, they momentarily numbed.
He threw his head back and smacked me in the face.
“Ouch!” I exclaimed as my forehead throbbed.
He grunted loudly for a few spare seconds, body quivering.
The gyrations came to a stop.
“Ew!” Prince sighed almost in disgust. “Brynn…you got me…even wetter.”
He panted.
For the first time I noticed a warmness on my hands.
I sprang away from Prince.
A light dampness was on my palms and fingertips.
Head drooped, Prince slowly twisted to me and looked up through his long lashes.
“Thank you.” He whispered and kissed my mouth. “I love you.”
I squinched my face up at him. What the hell?
Had I just masturbated Prince?
I studied my hands again.
He had…climaxed on me!
I glanced down and stifled a squeal of surprise.
A line of liquid--that wasn’t water!--was rolling down the inside of his left leg.
Prince chuckled in a low tone. “Hmm, hmm, hmmm…You might wanna wash your hands. I don’t think Jacko wants to know what my juice smells like.”
With that Prince spun away from me and walked over to the open door of the bathroom, hands on hips, booty swaying.
He disappeared inside, pushing the door partially closed.
As water started running inside, I looked down at my hands.
Mortified. Horrified.
He had done it again. Prince had seduced me again!
The sneaky bastard. I couldn’t believe it.
Was I that weak? It was pathetic.
I knew I should have been remorseful, even frightened, but I wasn’t.
I was…in love.
Really in love with Prince.
I was warm with my own sensation of being turned on.
That he had really gone through all the trouble to make up a little dance for me.
It was flattering. Almost as flattering as the Ferrari.
But it was all so wrong!
I slowly wandered over to the bathroom door.
And slipped inside.
I discovered Prince’s boots, stockings, soiled underwear and arm sock on the floor. On the other side of the room, hidden behind blue frosted glass, I could make out his figure, taking a shower. Steam rose from the top of it and billowed across the ceiling.
I looked down at my hands again. My fingers were starting to stick together.
Disgusting.
I found the washbasin and turned on the hot water.
In the shower, Prince screamed.
“Now wait a minute Baby! I ain’t into all that. I don’t need a cold shower now!”
The remark made me laugh.
The first time I had laughed all day. It felt so good.
I picked up the bar of soap and began scrubbing at my hands.
“Brynn, Lover, why don’t you go out there and order up some room service?” Prince suggested. “I’ll be out in a few.”
I suddenly felt so calm. I didn’t know why.
“All right!” I called back.
For the moment, I did feel “all right”
Nothing seemed to make sense anymore.


A Short While Later

“Here…put it in your mouth.” Prince urged quietly.
“I can’t. It’s too hot!” I remarked leaning away from him.
“Then let me blow on it for you.”
Prince brought the fork up to his mouth, a cube of bread covered with hot melted cheese poised on the end of it.
I watched, a smile on my face, as he pursed his pretty pink lips and puffed on the food.
On a table in front of us, two different fondues bubbled. A cheese one surrounded by cubes of French bread and deli meats and a white chocolate one surrounded by assorted small fruits.
“Here.” He held the fork out to me.
I ate the food and beamed at him.
He looked nice. After the shower to get the dirty boy clean, Prince had changed into a low cut black tunic trimmed with green piping and matching black trousers. A black scarf was tied around his hair which he had combed back.
“Let’s try the chocolate.” I offered, dipping a ball of honeydew melon into the white chocolate and holding it out to him.
Prince licked it up off my hand. “I’m glad you washed that hand” He chuckled.
“Prince?” I said dipping another melon ball.
I wanted to know something. Needed to know.
“How did you know that Michael was staying here? I don’t think it’s a coincidence that you and he are at the same place. Especially only two days after you last saw each other.” I looked up at him weakly.
Prince leaned back and crossed his legs staring at me. He was working his tongue around his mouth again.
“You really want to know?” Prince folded his arms over his chest. He seemed annoyed I was even asking.
I didn’t care.
“Yes.” I nodded and my ponytail bounced.
“I’m a star, Baby.” Prince glanced over my head. “I have contacts all over the place and I can keep tabs on anyone I want with a simple phone call.”
He continued. “And I’m watching Michael like a hawk because he has the one thing I want--you.” Prince dunked a banana slice in the chocolate and ate it.
He really wanted me. Gosh.
“I don’t know why you want to stay with him, Brynn. It’d be a hell of a lot easier if you dumped his weird ass and moved to Minneapolis.” Prince shook his head brow furrowed.
I started to object, but Prince shot his hand up, silencing me.
“And he’s got all that baggage. Three children. None of them are yours. You shouldn’t have to play surrogate mama to them--”
I cut Prince off. “Hold it Slick. I love Michael’s children. They love me. Those are the sweetest children I’ve ever met and they accepted me right off the bat. And I can’t leave Michael. Because I don’t just love one person. I love four--Michael, Prince-Michael, Paris and Blanket. And you of course.” I shook my head.
Prince grunted and got up.
“You’re too young to be bothered with children. You’re barely past being jailbait yourself.”
“This coming from the man who just ejaculated on me.” I retorted hotly without thinking.
Prince sucked in his lips and his eyes bulged.
I thought he was going to start yelling at me.
Why did I suddenly envision him knocking the taste out of my mouth like he had done to Apollonia?
Instead, he tossed his head back and laughed wildly.
“You’re good Brynn. Real good.” He staggered over and dropped into my lap.
He nestled his face against my neck.
He smelled so sweet.
“What is that cologne you wear?” I asked, inhaling his trademark scent.
Prince chuckled into my throat. “It’s a perfume, Women’s Armani. I’ve been wearing it for years.”
Hmmm….Prince wore women’s perfume.
At that point, nothing much he said could shock me. Even if he sprouted a second head, turned green and proclaimed he was a spaceman from Jupiter.
“Why don’t you come back to Minneapolis? For real?” Prince tapped a finger around my face. His eyes dipped at the corners; he looked gloomy.
“Prince…” I searched his eyes. “I can’t hurt Michael. I promised him I wouldn’t. And I will not hurt those kids.” I explained quietly.
“Prince, you don’t understand. Michael is very different from you. He’s been hurt so many time by different lovers. I don’t want to hurt him.”
“Don’t you think it bothers me when you leave me and go back to him? I want to keep you with me. Treat you like a real woman. Not a child. He almost shit when I gave you that car. Kinda funny that you’re almost twenty and didn’t have a car. And that says what? ” Prince cracked his knuckles. “That says you’re being babied.”
“We have a driver, Prince.” I pointed out.
“I wonder what Michael would think of his driver bringing you to see me.
I bet you haven’t even driven that car yet--have you?”
Prince eyed me, the color of them darkening from hazel to almost brown.
I couldn’t answer him. I hadn’t touched the car.
He took my silence as an response.
“I knew it.” Prince scoffed and shook his head, appalled.
“Do you go out at all? Do you have any friends that aren’t Jacksons or work for a Jackson?” He questioned.
I looked away from him, simmering. “I’m happy with how I am. The way things are.”
“Sounds pretty fucking lonely to me. In Uptown you had friends. Me, Mindy, even Morris. And you don’t have to sit and baby-sit any of us or play Barbies with us, because we’re all goddamned adults. Think about your life, Brynn. You spend your time with three children, a man who acts like a child with a house that has it’s own amusement park. You’re Wendy to Michael's fucking Peter Pan. God help us if y’all learn to fly. End up somewhere over the rainbow.” He poked his hand into my chest.
“I know Michael doesn’t like me. I don’t give a flaming flying fuck. He knows that I treat you like a woman and not a kid. That’s why he was so quick to get you out of Paisley Park. Because I had you looking like a woman. And you were acting like one. He’s threatened.” Prince ran his hand under my chin.
I slapped it away. Why did Prince always have to go from being so nice and sweet to being an absolute puke bag at the wrong time?
“Michael’s got nothing to be threatened by. A man, who, if he jumped off a street curb will have committed suicide?” I snapped.
“Ha…ha…you’re funny.” Prince laughed mockingly. “And I’m not that fucking short. I’m big where it counts.” He indicated his crotch.
“Please.” I turned from him.
I liked the way my life with Michael was. The closeness, the quietness. I didn’t need a billion people around me like Prince.
And to be honest, the only other person I had seen him with in New York was Mindy. I hated that Prince was always trying to shoot me down.
I wasn’t going to let him.
Behind him the doors to the elevator opened up and Mindy, laden with about thirty different shopping bags entered the room.
She looked a bit frazzled.
“Ah, I see our handy, dandy shopper is back.” Giving me a haughty flip of the head, Prince swung off my lap and helped me up.
“Yes, sir.” Mindy smiled dropping the bags to the floor. She returned my credit card to me.
“What all did you get?” I asked, hoping she hadn’t spent too much money.
“I got lots of things. Shirts, pants, dresses, shoes, lingerie…” Mindy fluffed her hair.
“Lingerie? Ow!” Prince picked up a pink bag with “XXX” printed on the front.
Digging around, he picked out a lilac lace bra and matching panties.
“I think I’ll keep this here. Wear this for me Brynn. Jacko can have the rest of that. ” He grinned devilishly at me. Flipping the bra over, he glanced at the tag on the bra.
“Damn! I didn’t know your tits were that big.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Shut up Prince! And, it’s Jackson, okay?”
I gave a few bags a cursory glance; Mindy had done a pretty good job. Most of the garments were in the line of what Michael would buy.
Hip, but classy.
“What time is it?” I questioned, looking at a blouse with Marilyn Monroe on the front in blue glitter.
Mindy picked up her phone and opened it. (There were never any clocks around Prince, because I had heard he didn’t believe in time.)
“It’s a quarter to six.” She said.
“A quarter to six?” I dropped the shirt. “Michael’s gonna be back to the room by six! I have to be there. Oh my God!” I scrambled to pick up the bags. I knew I’d have to ride the elevator down to the lobby and back up to make it look as though I had entered from down there.
Instead of leaving the Penthouse.
I gave Mindy a jumbled hug. “Thanks for shopping for me.”
“No problem.” She grinned. “Anytime. You saved my job!”
I started for the elevator.
Prince tugged me lightly by my hair.
“When will I see you again?” He wondered deeply , eyes searching my face.
“I don’t know.” I looked up at him, feeling sad. I didn’t know if I was sad to leave him or to have to face Michael.
“You bring the phone I gave you?” Prince twirled my hair.
“Yeah--it’s in my make-up case. But I can’t talk on it. Michael will hear me.” I fretted.
“I’ll text you then. Just text to me what happens. I wanna see you again and soon.” He yanked my head back and kissed me passionately.
We were both gasping for air when he let me go.
I bumped his nose with mine. “Bye, Sexy Dancer.”
He giggled.
I stepped into the elevator.
“Bye Sweet Baby.” Prince blew a kiss as the doors closed around me.
As I rode down to the lobby, I stared at myself in the mirrors.
It was odd, I had two faces, but looked as normal as the next woman…

* * *

“Yay! It’s Brynn!” Paris screamed as I entered the master suite.
She actually jumped into my arms knocking the bags I was holding out my hands and onto the floor.
“Hi!” I hugged her back.
“She’s been bouncing off the walls all day. Rusty bought her an iced latte from Starbucks.” Prince smiled from where he sat in the middle of the floor playing Old Maid with Blanket.
“You had coffee?” I stared down at Paris. She gazed up at me a huge grin plastered on her face. Yup, she was loaded with caffeine--the pupils of her eyes were dilated.
“Yes!” She exclaimed.
“How big a coffee did she have?” I questioned. No seven year old needed coffee. Not even coffee flavored ice cream.
“The biggest one they had.” Prince shuffled cards. “I didn’t have any. Me and Blanket had a smoothie.”
“Rusty!” I called trying to walk with Paris still hanging onto me.
The skunk came walking calmly from down the hall, tapping away on his Blackberry.
“Oh you’re back. Did some damage shopping huh?” He smiled at me.
“You let this little girl have an iced coffee?” I motioned to Paris who was clinging to me.
“The lady who made it said it was decaf. Chill out Brynn.” Rusty shook his head.
“Does it look like she’s had decaf? I’m wearing her like a belt! Where is Michael? Does he know she had coffee?” I argued.
“Who had coffee?” A voice behind questioned.
Michael, in a black three piece suit, was entering the room with his two hired guards.
“Daddy!” Paris shrieked and leapt from me into Michael’s arms.
“Take a wild guess.” I crossed my arms and glared at Rusty.
He almost dropped Paris.
“You let Paris have a coffee? I didn’t even have coffee this morning and I’m a grown man!” Michael’s eyes swelled as he looked at his daughter.
Rusty sputtered.
“This is Paris Jackson! Not Paris Hilton! Next thing I know you’ll be telling me she was dancing on a table somewhere!” Michael picked Paris up and cuddled her close to him.
“Uh, Dad…” Prince waved his hand to get Michael’s attention.
“She did dance at the zoo, but they played a Britney Spears song.” Prince put in. “We were on the sidewalk though. I danced too.” He grinned at Michael openly.
Michael stared harshly at Rusty.
“Right Michael, it won’t happen again.” Rusty made a speedy exit.
Michael walked over and pecked my cheek.
It was amazing he couldn’t smell Prince on me. I was sure some of his perfume had rubbed off on me.
“How was your day Honey? Had fun shopping? I see a lot of bags.”
“Good. How was your meeting?” I tried to change the subject.
The less we chatted about me, the better.
“Alright. I think I gained ten pounds I ate so much. We’ll meet later this week to discuss packaging and a release date for the song.” Michael nodded excitement in his eyes.
“That’s great.” I patted his back as Michael tried to loosen Paris’ arms from him.
He finally managed to get Paris off of him and she ran to join the Old Maid game.
“Did you eat something with cheese?” Michael questioned and I tensed up immediately.
Oh, God in Heaven! He knew! Who told him?
Had Prince really called the Missoni Grill and told on me?
No, Michael was far too calm. Most people blew their stack before murdering a lover.
If he knew I had gotten a semi lap dance from one of the people he detested most in the known universe…
“Cheese?” I repeated breathlessly, lungs deflating.
“Yeah. See?” Michael pointed to my chest.
A blob of yellow cheese stained my dress.
It must have plopped on me while Prince and I were sharing fondue.
“Oh…I uh, had a chili cheese dog at Nathan’s.” I put on a smile, my heart darkening from lying to Michael.
“Cool.” Michael grinned, whipping his jacket off and giving me a warm hug. “Bet that was yummy.”
“The best…” I mumbled quietly.
How long could I keep my cool?
* * *