Streets of Gold - A Michael Jackson Story

Chapter 28 - Three's a Crowd

--- WARNING!!! This chapter contains segments of sexual content. Proceed with caution. ---

Michael

Thursday April 9th, 1987 – Encino, California

"That's wonderful!" I smile into the receiver. "Thank you so much, Branca. We'll talk soon."

"Who was that?" Miya asks, walking into my office just as I hang up. "Sounds like you got some good news."

"It was my attorney, and I didn't get good news – I got great news."

"Anything you can share?"

"It's about the new house," I say. "We can move in, finally."

"What?" she beams, and I nod before she gives me a big hug. "That's amazing!"

"I know!" I laugh before picking her up and spinning her around. I put her down before kissing her lips. "I should go tell Mother."

"Don't you have to work?"

"I do," I sigh. "But this can't wait. I'll come back as soon as I've eaten."

"You haven't eaten?" she raises an eyebrow.

Oh, boy...

"Jackson, you know I don't want you working without breakfast," she whines.

"I know, baby, and I'm sorry," I console her with another kiss. "Please don't be mad at me?"

"I'm not," she shakes her head. "I'm just concerned."

"Look at you, being all wife-like," I tease. "Now I really wanna marry you."

I pull her in for a kiss, but she pushes me away after a moment, leaving me biting my lip.

"Go eat, Jackson," she says before strutting out of the room. I can't help but watch her leave – the way her hips sway in those blue jeans, how her arms dance from side to side, the waves in her gorgeously colored red and black hair bouncing a little with each step...

I'm the luckiest man alive right now.

* * *

I'm signing off some paperwork when I hear a few soft taps on my door.

"Come in," I say without looking up.

"Michael?" I feel like I heard the soft feminine voice just yesterday. I look up and catch quite a surprise.

"Tatiana?" I take off my glasses, suspecting they've altered my vision.

"Hello again," she says. Now I know for sure that it's her.

"What're you doing here?" I ask, gesturing for her to sit.

"I was in the neighborhood," she waves a hand in the air. "So I thought I'd stop by and say 'hi'."

"Really?" I ask, most of me not buying it. She nods simply.

"I hope you don't mind, but the girl who answered the door said I could come through."

"Who answered the door?"

"Hazel eyes, short hair, black and red, a body for days..."

Miya.

"Oh, alright," I nod, trying not to blush at the last part of her description.

"Is she part of the help?" she asks bluntly.

I frown. "Why do you ask?"

"I picked up an accent... almost British, but not quite."

I chuckle. "She's from South Africa. That's the English they use there."