I'm Nicole Kennedy, the wife of Michael Jackson. This story is of how I met Michael and our relationship. I'm disclosing a lot of things in here, so just make sure it's between you and me. It'll be our secret-- we wouldn't want anyone else to know...
I turn the TV down, muting Sister Sledge belting out on the screen. It's a bright, clear May morning, and a party is going on next to the pool.
I have my khakis and my tank top on, fanning myself as I step out of the house. Many people are relaxing on beach chairs, others are splashing around in the pool. I catch sight of my siblings sitting at a table on the far side.
"Guys, you really do need to stop leaving the TV on. Dad will catch you next time you do that. I'm not getting in trouble," I tell them.
An 18-year old Alessandra sighs as she adjusts her black bikini bottom.
"Nicole, you need to take a chill pill right now," she snaps. I roll my eyes and turn away from her, gazing at all the people enjoying the sun.
I scan my eyes around the place, taking in the dazzling models and Afros glistening with water.
I sip my lemonade until I lock eyes with a boy on the other side of the pool. He's tall, he's slim, he has an afro, he's... Michael Jackson.
I turn my stare to another area. Margaritas are being served by the waiters.
"Guys, do I look okay?" I ask. Jennifer nods her head.
"You look beautiful. We all do, right Aless?" she teases, getting a playful smack from our older sister.
I turn away from them again, this time noticing Michael Jackson straight away, who's playing around with his older brother Jermaine and a friend.
Jermaine's married to Hazel, I remember. Then, as Michael laughs some more, he looks in my direction. I know I averted my eyes just in time, but I can feel his stare on me.
"Excuse me, guys, I'm going inside." I get up, ignoring the protests at my table.
I make a load of excuse-me's as I walk up to the glass doors and inside the large foyer. I lean on the wall beside the potted plant and take deep breaths. I'm right in front of the hallway when Michael Jackson comes through the door.
"Hey, are you okay?" he asks me. I gulp down the rest of my drink then nod.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Is there something I can help you with?" I reply calmly. Michael walks over to me.
"I... um, noticed you earlier by the pool. You were sitting with your friends?" Michael says in a questioning tone. He's standing right in front of me as I'm still leaning back on the wall.
"Yeah, I was just watching the guests. I'm sorry if I was staring, I just like to admire—" I'm cut off.
"No, no. I'm talking about earlier, when you first walked through the doors. You caught my attention."
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"Oh, did I?" I give a nervous chuckle. "Yeah, well, we always get that when there's a party here. Kind of 'cause, we're the host's children, so..."
"I know who you are, Nicole. I... I just meant to say you look stunning now."
I tuck my hair behind one ear. "Thank you. I'm surprised to hear that, coming from someone like you."
"Why?"
"No particular reason. It isn't every day a music sensation compliments my beauty."
Michael smiles and bites his lip. "How would you like to come sit with me?"
I grin. "Sit with you? Am I in your league to be talking with you like this?" 1
Michael frowned. "Come on. And what are you talking about? You're like, one of the most glamorous people I've ever seen. Let's go."
