I WANT HIM, I WANT HIM NOT (MICHAEL JACKSON FANFIC)

Chapter 42

"We've been on the road for hours." I whined. "Where are we going?"
"Patience, sweet cheeks, patience."
"My patience is running thin, Michael." I pout, folding my arms.
I watch the scenery go by when suddenly I see a sign that reads: WELCOME TO LAS VEGAS. I slowly look over at Michael, who's smirking because he knows that Vegas is one of my dream places. I look back ahead and engulf myself in the place they call Sin City.
"If you don't mind, we're going to do some shopping before heading to the hotel."
"I don't mind." I say, absentmindedly.
We stop at this place called The Forum Shops, and I didn't want to leave cause there's not one store that wasn't there. We then head to the hotel, which wasn't too far, and Michael parks in the parking garage. We walk inside the hotel and right up to the concierge.
"Hello, welcome to Caesars Palace. How may I help you?"
"I have a reservation."
"Name?"
"Michael Jackson."
The woman starts typing away at the computer and I slowly start to walk away from Michael. The lobby in this place alone is fabulous, I can only imagine what the room is going to look like. I then see this guy walking that kind of looks like Markus. Y'all remember, Markus? The one I met on my way down to Florida to breakup with Chris? Claude's, the one that got his ass beat by Michael, brother? I wouldn't be surprised if that was him. I remember he travels a lot for his work.
"Giselle." I look. "I got the room."
I go to Michael and grab his hand, but we don't to go to the elevator like everybody else. We end up going down this hall where a private elevator is. He puts the keycard in and the doors open, and we step on the elevator. The doors open once we get to our suite and it's as beautiful as I thought it would be. I step off the elevator and look around the room, admiring every inch. I go over to the window and the view is magnificent.
Michael comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. "Happy Birthday, sweet cheeks." He says, kissing the side of my neck.
I giggle, then turn around to face him, wrapping my arms around his neck. "My birthday was two days ago."
"I know that, but we're celebrating today, and the rest of the weekend."
"But I told you-"

I'm cut off by Michael pressing his lips against mine. He then pulls away and places his forehead against mine.
"I know you told me I didn't have to do anything, but you should know by now that I do what I want to do. Now, can you just enjoy this?"
I stare into his eyes and I'm starting to feel guilty. He's going all out for me and all I can do is complain.
I nod my head. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet. There's still more that I have planned."
"Oh yeah?" I asked, moving a curl behind his ear. "Like what?"
"You'll see." He pecks my lips, then walks away.
When 6:45 p.m. rolls around, Michael and I head out of the hotel room. He said that he had reservations for us, but he didn't exactly say where. All he told me was that it was for 7 p.m. and to dress formal. We make it down to the lobby and go inside the parking garage. We get in the car and head out the garage, and down the strip. We pull in front of one of the most prestigious restaurants in Las Vegas. Staring in awe, I hadn't realized that the valet had the door open and his hand out to help me.
"Ma'am?"
I snap out of my trance and take his hand. Once I'm out, he closes the door and Michael hands him the keys and a tip. He wraps an arm around my waist and we head into the restaurant.
We walk up to the host, who greets us with a smile. "Reservations for Jackson." Michael says.
The host flips through the pages, assuming he was finding the J section, before he grabs two menus. Michael whispers something to the host before he leads us to a booth that's in the back where we can have more than enough privacy. We take our seats and he hands us the menus before walking away. We start looking through our menus and by the time we figure out what we want the waiter comes and writes down our order. I sip on my water as Michael stares at me from across the table. I try to shift my eyes around the decor of the restaurant to put myself at ease, but his stare is too hard to ignore.
"Michael, you know when you stare at me like that I start getting insecure." I say, sitting my glass of water down.
"I don't see why. If anything you should feel nothing but flattery because I'm admiring what I got."
I blush. "Yeah, but do you have to do it so intensely?"
"Can't help that. I'm an intense man."

Our champagne comes, then our food follows. "Enjoy your meal. Let me know if you need anything."
"Will do."
Michael pours the champagne into my glass, then in his before sitting it back in the ice bucket. We don't do much talking, which for us is surprising, but in a way I'm glad we didn't because I just wanted to enjoy this in silence. After our meal, Michael asked the waiter for the check.
"Wait, I would like some dessert."
"She doesn't need it. Just bring me the check, please."
"Right away, sir." The waiter says.
I raise an eyebrow. "Really, Michael?"
"What?"
I scoff. "I ask for some dessert and you say no like I'm some child."
He gives me that smirk of his. "Don't worry sweet cheeks, we'll have plenty of dessert later."
I furrow my eyebrows, confused. But that's clearly what he wanted because he started to chuckle. The waiter eventually comes with the check, Michael pays, then we leave. Michael rides back up the strip, then he pulls over where I see that we're going in to see a Vegas show. This man really is giving me everything I wanted. He gets out, then comes over to my side, helping me out. We walk inside and Michael shows our tickets to the usher standing at the door. He opens the door and Michael leads me to a table in the middle that's a few feet away from the stage. He pulls out my seat for me before sitting down in his.
"You want something to drink?"
"No, I've had enough."
"Lightweight."
I chuckle as he signals for the waiter. Suddenly, music starts to play and the curtain lifts revealing about 12 girls posed down some stairs dressed in Swarovski crystal covered bras and panties, feathered headdresses, and diamond bracelets with matching dangling earrings. They start doing synchronized movement as they slowly descend the stairs, then they start to do some burlesque type of choreography. About an hour later, the show is about to come to an end and Michael excuses himself. By the time he comes back, everyone is leaving and we follow their lead.
"Did you enjoy the show?" Michael asked, shifting the gear shift to drive.
"Yeah, I did. Thank you. For everything."
"Not yet. There's still one more thing."
"Michael, I can't take anymore."

We make it back to the hotel and as we're riding in our elevator, my stomach gets filled with butterflies. I'm so anxious to see what else he has planned. I guess it was showing on my face because Michael grabs my hand and gives it a light squeeze.
"You alright?"
I give a small smile and shake my head yes. The elevator dings and I swear my heart skips a beat. We step off and Michael lets my hand go.
"It's waiting for you in the kitchen."
As soon as I walk into the kitchen, this guy quintet starts to sing happy birthday, but in their own way for me. I'm smiling from cheek to cheek because they are so good. I didn't notice it at first, but there's a round cake sitting on top of the counter with two number 2 candles on it. It looks to be my favorite, too. After they finish, I clap and Michael places his hands on my hips and kisses my cheek.
"Happy Birthday, again." He looks up at the quintet. "You were great fellas. Thanks."
They nod and as they leave, Michael guides me toward the cake. He pulls out some matches and strikes one and lights the wicks of the candles.
"Make a wish." He says, sitting the book of matches on the counter.
I close my eyes. I wish I get my babygirl back, I wish that I soon get my own bar up and running, and I wish that I have continued happiness with the man standing next to me. I open my eyes and blow out the candles.
"So, what did you wish for?"
"I can't tell you that, or else it might never come true." I say, running my finger along the icing and then licking it. It's silent for a moment. "You know, this is the best birthday I've ever had."
"Well, I hope to make it even better with this last present."
He goes into his inside blazer pocket and pulls out an envelope. He hands it to me and I take it with an eyebrow raised.
"What's this?"
"Open it." I open the tab and when I look inside my eyes bulge. "You told me you had a few hundred to go before you could get your own bar. Sitting in that envelope is $1,000."
"This is very generous." I say, closing the envelope. "But I won't accept it."
I hand it back to him and he looks at me shocked. "Giselle, I'm helping you realize your dream here."
"And I appreciate that. But please let me do it on my own."
He stares into my eyes, silently before letting out a breath. "Alright. Whatever you want."
I give him a peck, but let it linger for a few seconds before pulling away. "Thank you."
He nods his head and leaves the kitchen, envelope in hand.