Living With The Enemy

Chapter One

  February 2, 1990

Purple heels clicked the floor slowly as their owner carefully made their way to the large, in-home studio. With hair bouncing as each step was taken, it was a wonder as to why they didn't change their style sooner. Making their way to the warm, mahogany door, they sturdily pushed it in to see nothing but beauty; it wasn't rare for anyone to be in here, but only the rightful owner and whomever else they allowed in.

      The door closed after they came in. The recording booth was empty, but probably warm, and would always be occupied. Today was the day that everything would be easy; calm, cool, collected, and poised so-to-speak. As the body sat in front of the engineering table, their feet that was clad in heels slide front to back ever so often. Today actually was a good day...until the telephone that was stationed in the room started to ring. Their feet stopped moving, and an annoyed look came across their face. 

      They leaned their arm over the thousands of buttons and dials to grasp the phone. When the butterscotch fingers wrapped around the base of the telephone, they lifted it and pulled their arm back, placing the phone to their ear.

      With a longing sigh, they spoke into the lower end of the phone. "Hello?" Another voice responded immediately.

     "Mr. Nelson, listen here: you have a very important meeting with a very inportant person." Prince took the phone away from his ear and looked at it in disgust. It was Xendrea Maxwell, his personal assistant. Why was she calling at a time like this? And then for a meeting he had absolutely no idea about to add more to his problems. He placed the device back on his ear to hear her still talking. She paused. "Hello?"

      "Yeah, I'm still here. What is this meeting for, anyways? And where are you?" he asked, rubbing his hand that didn't have the phone in it on his thigh. Normally, he wouldn't bother to know or ask of his employees locations, but he sometimes worried for her. She cleared her throat.

      "Just a special friend of yours, Sir." That made him get suspicious. She and he both knew her nervousness was showing. Hell, it was radiating from her side of the phone. "And I am at home right now, getting ready for next week." He had to fight from slamming his hand on his forehead. He had forgotten all about the magazine shoot he had to do.  "You didn't forget, did you?" she asked in worry. "You've only mentioned it a million times to me and everyone else."

      It was the February through March edition of Upscale Magazine, and it's going to be located in the hot sun of Florida. He rose up high in his seat.

      "No, I could never," he tried. Xendrea took this chance to raise her eyebrows.

      When will he learn? I was born at night, not last night, she thought.

      "Anyway, who's the friend?"

      "Oh, um, you know...Michael Jackson," she muttered. She knew this wouldn't sit well with him, especially since the last time they met back in '87. Confusion was more inside than anger.

      Why the hell does that man want to meet with me? he thought.

     He then felt a smirk play its part on his lips.

      "Oh, Michael, huh?" He ran his index finger over his lips. "Tell me: what is this meeting for, exactly?"