Love from Another (A Michael Jackson FanFic)

Chapter 11. Seven Empty Rooms

[Alexandria POV]

We drove in silence back to the estate. It was now 1:00 AM, but I wasn't the least bit sleepy. I wanted to shrivel up and die of embarrassment. I couldn't bring myself to look at him. How on Earth was I going to keep this job?

He peered outside of the pitch black window; one hand on the steering wheel the other on his chin. He looked deep in thought. I wonder what he was thinking. Maybe he was thinking what a huge mistake he made hiring me. My heart dropped low into my stomach. I hugged myself closer as the station wagon came to a slow halt in front of those same large mahogany double doors.

He rotated the ignition off bringing its soothing rumble to a halt. He clapped his hands together and let them fall into his lap. I braved a look at him and was surprised to see a hesitant smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

What is going on? Why isn't he infuriated? Why isn't he screaming about my reckless life and how I endangered him AND myself? Why...w-why was he staring at me?

"OK, I'm lost. Why aren't you upset? I thought you'd be infuriated with me..." I whimpered. I found myself wringing my hands through my hair, a nervous tick I acquired in grade school.

He chuckled in the dim light of the car. "I'm prepared to take you on," he said gently, "as a project I suppose...stay with me."
My eyes must have bugged out of my head.

'What?! What does he mean? Is he nuts?! I'm a liability!' My conscience screamed: NO. But my inner voice saw through to the sincerity in his voice. I think he feared for my well-being.

His cool voice invaded my thoughts, "I mean, I've got seven empty rooms--you could have your pick. Decorate it how you like. I mean, you wouldn't have to worry about anything, Alexandria. Clothes, food, you name it. We won't be here long-- what with the tour kicking off next month. The whole team will be planes, trains, buses and hotels by then."

No. Fucking. Words.

How lucky could I be? Or...how absolutely insane could Michael be? Honestly, what other choice did I have? Go back to my apartment and be abducted or live on the street with a similar fate? I had my answer; I turned toward Michael and said, "I'm sorry."

His face fell. The smile disappeared. He inched toward me, I could smell the remnants of tonight's dinner on his breath: peppery fried KFC chicken and red wine danced under my nose. He leaned in and mumbled, "ya know, I didn't have very much growing up. We worked, worked very hard, since we were kids and were blessed to have what we have now. I just want to share what I have..."

"Yes," I whispered. "And-a-and I promise, Michael. I will never let anything like this happen. I'm so sor--" He raised his long pointer finger and I stopped speaking. "It's okay, Alexandria. You're family now. "