Love At First Fight (Michael Jackson Fanfiction)

..8..

"So.... what's the story?" He asks, placing his plump lips to the rim of his wine glass.

"What story?" I smile, trying to avoid the question.

"Why am I your first date in two years?" He responds. I sigh, sipping my wine. Resting my head on my hand, I begin to figure out how to get out of the situation.

"Well... I just thought it was time to get out there." I smile tightly. His smile fades a bit and he places his hand over mine.

"Jamie, what's the real reason." He says, trying to comfort me. I pull my hand away from his and place both of them on my lap.

"I don't like to talk about it." I sigh, looking down at my manicured nails.

"Why won't you tell me anything?" He asks as I hint at the irritation in his voice. I look up at him, furrowing my brows.

"I knew this was a bad idea," I sigh, standing from the table. Michael stands with me, and walks in front of me.

"I'm sorry," he says softly, trying to hold my hands. I pull them away, folding them instead. "Please, please stay," He says, pulling me towards him by my waist. I sigh, sitting back down, and he smiles, "thank you."

"For what?" I mumble.

"Staying." He continues. I roll my eyes and he lets out a obvious sigh.

"What?" I snip.

"Nothing." He states, leaning his elbows on the table.

"I'll leave, if you want." I say, irritated.

"Do what you want." He grits. I grab my bag and begin to stand when I hear him say something that I don't quite catch.

"What did you say?" I state seriously.

"Never mind." He mumbles.

"I want to know." I snap. Serge walks up to the table and frowns at me.

"Leaving so soon?" He asks politely. I smile tightly, trying to stay calm.

"Yes Serge, and thank you for serving me tonight." I sigh, feeling some of the anger evaporate.

"No problem Mam, I'll walk you out." He says, taking a step towards me.

"Oh no, that's okay," I hold my hand up "I'll find my way. You can stay here and serve Mr. Jackson." I say, shooting Michael a look.

"Okay Miss Montebella, have a good evening." He smiles, handing me my glasses off of the table. I nod, thanking him silently and start to walk out of the restaurant.

"Fuck." I mumble, realizing I have no way to get home.

"Miss!" Someone calls as I'm walking down the concrete sidewalk. I turn, and frown at the suited man running up to me, "I'm Rob." He says, reaching out to shake my hand.

"Michael's driver?" I ask, reaching out to shake his hand.

"Yes, and he has requested that I take you home." He smiles. I roll my eyes, and shift my weight to one leg.

"Just because he orders you around does not mean he can do the same for me." I snap.

"Oh... he says not to take no for an answer." Rob says slowly.

"I know he would say some shit like that. How did he call you so quickly?" I say, furrowing my brows. He starts to answer, but I hold up a hand, "Nevermind. I'm gonna call a cab." I snark, pulling my phone out of my pocket.

"Mr. Jackson really likes you." He tries.

"He sure has a funny way of showing it." I mumble, scrolling though the numbers on my phone.