The Way She Wants It (Michael Jackson FanFiction)

..6..

I walk into my house, throwing my keys on my counter before flopping down on a couch in my living room.

"What the fuck," I sigh running my hands down my face, "Weird." I mumble, looking at the intricate details on the ceiling as my body rests for the first time today. 

Three hours after Michael and I had our little spat he left my dressing room once we had discussed the details of the song. I thought he had a song already written, but to my surprise he wanted to write a song with me. 

We discussed the timing, how the song should flow, the instrumentals and how we would coordinate our schedules. When he suggested that the vibe of the song should be romantic, I was kind of surprised. I didn't think that was a smart move, since he had just met me and barely even knew me. A romantic song would've been easier to collab with someone who was a little more... familiar. 

When Michael left at two in the afternoon, I went back to see what the crew was up to. Basically they were doing the same thing I was doing when I left, but Bria was in charge so everyone was in hell since that girl doesn't have a filter or a sense of time. Therefore they had been dancing for a good three hours without a break.

Great for my dancers.

I haul myself off the couch and painfully make my way up the large set of stairs.

Why did I choose a house with so many of them?

Once I'm in my room, I start to pull off all of my sweaty clothes and throw them in my laundry. 

"Eva!" I yell, knowing she's somewhere in this massive house of mine. I pull my robe over my shoulders as she's running into my room.

"Yes Abby?" she asks sweetly.

"Do you mind making me dinner?" I ask politely.

"Abby, I'm your housekeeper. It's my job to make you dinner, but you insist that I don't unless you ask." she smiles. I laugh, walking into my master washroom, "What would you like?" she asks.

"I don't really mind. Whatever you want to make me, I'll eat. I'm easy. Just make sure it's a bit healthy," I call from the washroom, "I need to keep my body in shape for the tour." 

"Yes ma'am, I'll have it ready in an hour." she smiles, about to walk out of my room.

"I'm just going to take a shower, so I'll be down whenever I'm finished." I sigh, "Oh and close the door behind you." 

She leaves, closing my room door behind her. I peel the robe off of my shoulders and let it pool around my feet as I let the shower run. As I'm about to step in my phone starts ringing from my room. 

"Ugh, shut up," I groan, debating whether to go get my phone. As the ringer drills into my brain, I decide to go get it. 

"Hello?" I sigh, ignoring the caller ID after I've walked out of the washroom. 

"I didn't know you'd be annoyed if I called you," Michael smirks as I rub the bridge of my nose, "Did I call at a bad time?" he asks, considering that I have a life.

"No, not really," I lie. 

Yes it was a fucking bad time, I was just about to shower and now I'm standing here naked talking to a man who I just met today. I know he can't see me, but I feel just as uncomfortable. 

"Good," he sighs before I hear him talk to someone in the background, "You should come over." 

"What?" my brows furrow, "You want me to come over? Why?" I scoff.

"Damn girl, you don't have to if you don't want to," he chuckles, "I was just wondering if you wanted to come hang out with me and a couple other people." I sigh, looking at the time. Eight o'clock.

"Um, sure, but I won't be there for a couple hours." I sigh, running my hand over my hair.

"That's fine. I'll text you my address." he says happily.

"I'm not driving out to Los Olivos, am I?" I smirk, walking back into the washroom. 

"No of course not," he laughs, "We're just hanging out at my place in LA." 

"Okay, sounds good. I'll see you later. Should I bring anything?" I ask, feeling the temperature of the water. 

"Why do I hear water running?" he asks softly, ignoring my question.

"Because I'm about to have a shower," I mumble, looking at my naked body in the mirror above one of the sinks. 

"Oh," he breathes in, with a hint of something behind his voice, "No, you don't have to bring anything." he answers my question from before. 

"Alright, I'll see you?" 

"Yeah, sounds good. Bye Abby." he says sweetly.

"Bye Michael." I say with a hint of sexy. Once I hang up the phone, I hope in the steamy shower as involuntary thoughts of Michael invade my mind. 

*

Parking was a bitch, but here I am walking into the building that supposedly holds Michael Jackson's condo. I look around the front lobby, and for some reason am expecting Michael to be waiting for me, even though I didn't tell him exactly when I'd be coming. 

I walk up to the front desk, and lean on the front of it. The guy sitting there is quite handsome... maybe even sexy. Not as sexy as Michael, but he's up there. 

"Hey, how's it going," I smile sweetly as he looks up at me. He smiles brightly, and eyes the part of me that he can see above the counter.

"Oh my gosh, you're Abby Westbrook," he says happily, "What can I do for you today?" he asks sweetly as I look down his nametag.

"Well, Brad," I start, licking my lips, "I'm here to see my friend and I was just wondering if you'd let me up." I say softly, running a hand across my chest. He swallows harshly and tries to meet my eyes.

"W-who's your friend?" he asks.

"Mr.Jackson." I smile, looking down at my folded hands that are resting on the counter. 

"Oh? Are you sure?" he frowns, as I my body tenses from the feeling of someone behind me, "Mr.Jackson never called dow-"

"Thank you Brad," Michael says from behind me as I turn around, "I'll take it from here." he smiles. I lean against the place where my hands once were and give Michael the elevator look. 

Damn he's sexy. 

"Abby," he greets, looking over me, "Good to see you." 

Here we go again.