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Baby, you can't go on
Wondering where you belong
Let me help you find yourself
'Cause you don't need nobody else
You shook your hips to El Debarge's voice while buttoning your denim shorts. Michael was at work and you had the house to yourself for a few hours. As usual, you took this time to blast music from the radio and dance with no one watching you. At the same time--though you weren't watching it-- you had the television on. A woman with heavy makeup and a perm spoke about the latest news on a recent earthquake. Yet, you were too wrapped up in getting yourself ready and cleaning the house to care.
Once you finished buttoning your shirt, you grabbed your duster from the shelf and began cleaning any place you could reach. If something was too high, you would climb on top of something else to reach it. Michael would always tease you, saying you were a neat freak or had OCD or did too many of his servants' jobs for them, but you simply liked the satisfaction cleaning gave you.
"You're going to have my servants out of a job," he would say.
"I just like things a certain way," you would reply, "Besides, you can't talk about anyone being control freak. You're the biggest control freak I know."
He would laugh and reply, "When it comes to my work, yes."
It was then that the telephone rang. You hopped off the kitchen counter and slid across the floor in your socks, a useful skill you learned to get around the house faster.
"Hello?" You answered.
"You slid across the floor to reach the phone, didn't you?" Michael asked knowingly.
"I swear, if you have cameras set up in here to watch me while you're gone, I'm gonna--"
"You got the phone way too quickly, so I figured you slid," a teasing tone was present in his voice.
"Don't you ever just say 'hi' to me on the phone, anymore?"
He laughed.
"I miss you," he said.
You could hear the smile in his voice, which made you smile.
"I miss you more. I wish we had more time together," you pulled the phone cord and moved to the couch.
"So do I. You could always come to work with me," he suggested.
You rolled your eyes, this being the hundredth time you'd heard him say that.
"You know I work too. Besides, you always get distracted when I'm there."
"What? No I don't," he argued playfully.
"Should I pull out the receipts?"
"What rec--"
"Remember when you were rehearsing on that really hot day and wouldn't leave me alone about drinking water?"
