Love from Another (A Michael Jackson FanFic)

Chapter 12: Sweet As Pie

(Alexandria POV)
The next three days were a whirlwind.

You know, usually when you change your living situation, a few things happen: you clean your old apartment, rent a moving truck, maybe solicit a group of friends to help you pack up your belongings-- bribing them with pizza and cheap beer. This is what normal people do. When you enter a world like Michaels, normal is no longer a part of your vocabulary.

Ever. Again.

Michaels security team arranged for an APB on Juresh Patel and his unknown associate. He was so committed to finding him and bringing him to justice. My skin crawled just thinking about it. His filthy garlic breath, his hairy chest accompanied with his protruding stomach...the sound of him unbuttoning his jeans. I shook my head to rouse my wandering mind and sat on the edge of my four poster bed.

Michael insisted on furnishing my entire life. From this ornate mahogany bed to the clothes on my back, he really went out of his way to make sure I was comfortable. That and he didn't want me to go anywhere near my apartment. Janet, his younger sister, had a few articles of clothing she left behind in one of the spare bedrooms. He recommended I use these until he could take me wardrobe shopping.

How did my life end up this way?

Literally a week ago I was living off of herbal tea and Cheezits and now here I am: living with Michael Jackson.

The Michael Jackson. A place where someone makes my tea for me!

I sat out on the ledge of the balcony adjoining my room letting the warm California sun beat down on my face. My room was on the second floor over-looking all of the Estate. The grass was so green, it looked fake! In the distance I saw the animal habitat, the cobblestone path that lead to the amusement park, and a young Omer on a four-wheeler laughing maniacally as he zoomed carelessly across the rolling hilltops.

Broomhilda, one of Michaels many maids, brought me back to reality by placing a shiny silver platter with a ceramic teapot on the small balcony table. I could smell the Jasmine leafs in the small pot as she poured me a cup and placed it on a matching ceramic saucer. The welcoming scent soothed my jumbled mind and I smiled genuinely at her in appreciation.

"Broomhilda, thank you so much." I began, "you're too kind, I-I can make my own tea if you'd like. I hate to have you lugging up those stairs unnecessarily."

I hope I didn't offend her, but I really did feel bad. Michaels house, although amazing, was HUGE. Broomhilda suffered from a bad limp and I, as I always do, felt guilty having her wait on me.

"Ms. Alexandria. It's no trouble at all! I love to serve, really I do," she said in a strong German accent. She shifted her weight as she dropped two sugar cubes into my glass. She knew me too well already. I bit my lip and furrowed my brow.

She could tell I was uncomfortable, she made her way over to me and patted my hand. "Do you know why Mr. Jackson hired me?" she said. Confused, I shook my head no. She sat down on the balcony railing next to me and said, "well, Mr Jackson, the kind soul that he is, saw something in me. As I am; limp and all!" she joked slapping her right knee. I giggled as I took a long sip from my cup listening intently. "Many do not know this, but I suffered from polio as a child. As did Mrs. Katherine...Michael's mother. Aside from my limp, I'm as healthy as a thoroughbred! So, don't you worry your pretty little head."

Hearing her story gave me even more reason to be so grateful. I reached out and hugged her my stress melting as she enveloped me in her warm embrace. As she retreated, I racked my brain on all the tasks I had on today's agenda.

I looked at my checklist and scowled:

       1. Pickup tour wardrobe at noon at Alexi's