Ten minutes later Kristina was in the back of a huge black limo with Michael. He had had the courtesy to let her change, and Kristina figured Amy would have approved of her look. She was wearing a black dress that hugged her tiny figure and stopped at the middle of her thighs with a black cardigan over to conceal her otherwise bare arms. Michaels heart had skipped a beat when she emerged from her room wearing it.
'So where are we going?' Kristina asked.
'Well, I'm not exactly taking you out. In fact, I'm taking you in.'
'What do you mean?'
'We're going to my house,' Michael smiled at her. Kristinas eyes widened.
'You're taking me to Neverland?' Michael chuckled.
'No, not Neverland. I don't live there when I'm in the city. I'm taking you to my apartment in the Hollywood Hills. My chef there is preparing a meal for us.'
'Oh, okay, that sounds nice,' Kristina said. The two sat in awkward silence for a moment, not knowing what to say to each other.
Michael really wanted to compliment her outfit, but he knew from instinct that she would find it cheesy. But actually Kristina was slapping herself mentally for wearing the wrong thing. He hadn't said anything about it. She was a little hot in the limo, so she pulled up the sleeves of her cardigan.
'What's that?' Michael asked, pointing to a tattoo on Kristinas lower arm. It was a small, simple black drawing of an electric guitar.
'Oh, this? It's just a tattoo I got like a year ago. It's no big deal,' she said, trying to hide it.
'But it looks so detailed,' Michael said interested, pulling her sleeve back up, which gave Kristina goosebumps. She tried hard to concentrate.
'Um, well, it's a Gibson Les Paul. Probably one of the best guitars in the world. If I had the money, that's the one I'd get. But since I will never have that kind of cash, I figured I'd get the next best thing.'
'It's really cool,' he said, softly touching the lines of the tattoo with his fingertips, making it hard for Kristina to breathe.
'Do you have any tattoos?'
'No. My skin disease won't allow it. I'd really like to, though. But they probably look better on you' he said, straddling his fingers to her hand, and intertwining them, looking at her with a dark look in his eyes, that Kristina hadn't seen before. Was that lust? She never got to figure out, because at that moment the limousine stopped and the driver said:
'We have arrived, Mr. Jackson.'
'I've told you to call me Michael. Thank you, James,' Michael said, giving Kristina a hand to help her out the limo.
--
The dinner was absolutely delicious. Way better than the cupped noodles Kristina was almost succumbed to. The conversation glided without problems between the two as they sat at a table with a view of all of Los Angeles with soft music coming from the stereo. They laughed a lot together and the atmosphere was light and intimate. Kristina almost clapped her hands when the dessert arrived, she loved chocolate mousse.
'Wow,' Michael said with a surprised look on his face. Kristina stopped in the middle of devouring the entire plate.
'What?'
Michael chuckled.
'Where do you put all that food in that tiny body of yours?'
Kristina became embarrassed and laughed with him, hoping she wasn't blushing.
'Oh God, I'm sorry. I just haven't eaten this good in months. And I really love chocolate mousse!'
Michael kept chuckling.
'It's okay. I think it's cute. So... Exactly what are you doing here in the US?' he tried asking her again. Kristina shrugged her shoulders.
'I told you. Studying.'
'But there's more than that. I'm sure you would be able to study in Denmark. Why here?'
'I got a scholarship.' The smile had disappeared from Kristinas face, but Michael kept pushing on. He wanted to solve her mystery.
'Aren't schools in Denmark free?' Kristina just glared at him. Michael knew he had her in a corner.
'What about your parents, don't you miss them?'
Kristina took another sip of her wine. It was her fourth glass. Someone just kept filling it up when it was empty. Maybe it was because of that, but she felt like opening up a bit to Michael. He was obviously curious about her.
'I was raised by my grandmother. But she died three years ago. So I guess I'm an orphan,' she said. Michael looked like a child who had just been scolded.
'I'm sorry, I didn't know that. I shouldn't have asked.'
'It's okay. My grandmother was great. She was the one who told me to start playing the guitar. She taught me my first chords on my dads old Kazooka. And she was so proud of me when I got into journalism and started studying it. Then I got an internship at a paper in Copenhagen, and it was paid and full time. But it was an awful job, and I was only doing tabloid stuff but working an average of 70 hours per week. Meanwhile, my grandmother died, and I wasn't even there to say goodbye to her. After some time, I just cracked. I wanted to get out of there. So I quit, got a scholarship to UCLA and here I am,' she said, shrugging her shoulders and having another sip of the delicious wine. It wasn't untrue, but it wasn't the entire truth either. But that was all she felt comfortable telling him.
'Who was your teacher after your grandmother?'
'No one. I taught myself.'
'Really,' Michael asked with raised eyebrows. 'That's very impressive!' Kristina shrugged her shoulders.
'Not really. Maybe if I had had a teacher, I would know how to play the electric properly.'
'Why do you doubt yourself so much?' Michael asked, with an almost amused look on his face, as he played around with his wineglass.
'I don't. I'm just being realistic.' His look pierced through her, and made her slightly uncomfortable. He was looking at her like he wanted to devour her. But he didn't. Did he?
Michael got up, walked to her end of the table and reached his hand to her.
'Come with me,' he said. Without question, much unlike her, Kristina took his hand and let him lead her to another room further inside the large penthouse-apartment.
She couldn't believe her eyes, when she entered the room. It was a small recording studio with all sorts of expensive high-tech gear and musical instruments everywhere. Including several guitars. Michael chuckled when he saw her expression.
'I figured you'd like it. Can you play any of the guitars here?'
Kristina picked up a beautiful dark brown Yamaha in rosewood. It was for lefthandeds. She sat down without a word and started playing different tunes. Michael sat down on the floor and just watched her. God, she was beautiful, and that dress was making him crazy. He wanted more than anything to slide his hands up her thighs.
He then started singing along when he recognized the melodies and before they knew it they had spent an hour jamming away. The hour was now nearing midnight and the stars were shining in to the apartment from the many big panorama windows.
'See, I told you you could play,' Michael praised her and Kristina smiled.
'You should see yourself when you do it. You look so beautiful.'
'Mighty words from a big performer!' Kristina laughed. She liked hearing him say things like that, but she was sure he just said it to try and make her happy and she didn't want him to feel like he had to.
'I mean it,' he said, giving that look again. That look where you just got lost in the beauty of his eyes. He held it for a little while, until he got up and helped her do the same. He knew she felt out of place when he looked at her like that, and even though he liked her reaction he wanted her to feel good around him.
'Wanna go watch a movie?'
And that they did. They sat together in the living room with all the lights out, but Kristina was barely aware of what was on the screen. Maybe the wine was really getting to her head, but she could literally feel the warmth of his skin and his heartbeat. They were both comfortable on the big, white couch, but yet Kristina didn't know what to do with her hands. Oh, how amazing it must feel to lay with ones head on his chest, was all she could think about. Michael noticed that she was fidgeting, so without thinking about it, he took her hand and put in his on the couch and gave her a little smile. She smiled back, trying to control the butterflies in her stomach. Then she gathered up all her courage, ignored her inner sense who screamed at her to leave the situation and laid her head on Michaels shoulder with her legs under her. Michael responded with putting his arm around her, and Kristina smiled to herself.
Michael felt a shot of happiness and success when he felt Kristinas head on him. She was really starting to relax around him, being more like herself and he liked seeing that. He sat there for a couple of minutes, just feeling the light weight from her head on his shoulder. Enjoying the moment.
'Alright, Jackson,' he thought to himself.
'This is it! That was her sign for you to kiss her! Now go on! If you can get Beyoncé, you can get her!' Michael breathed in and looked down at her.
And then he almost laughed.
Kristina was comfortable in his company, alright. So comfortable, in fact, that she was asleep. Normally if that happened, he would be irritated with the girl, call one of his bodyguards who would wake her up and take her home, while Michael went out to get another. Or just did the job himself. But with Kristina, he just sat there and looked at her sleeping. He couldn't help himself, and softly and very gently touched her cheek and gave her a feathered kiss on the forehead. Then he turned off the tv, gently lifted her up in his arms with ease and carried her towards one of the guestrooms. On the way he passed Rosita, his maid, who gasped when she saw him.
'Don't worry, she's just asleep. We will be two for breakfast tomorrow morning,' he whispered as he carried Kristina on. Rosita just nodded, and when Michael was past her she smiled.
She had not gasped because of the obviously sleeping girl in his arms. She was gasping because the Michael Jackson she knew would never in his right mind carry a girl to a guestroom in his house like that, without them even having kissed. In her time working for him she had seen many women come and go. But she had never seen Michael do something as sweet as this. He must really like her, she thought and went on with her duties.
Michael gently put the slumbering Kristina on the bed in the best guestroom in the apartment. He then grabbed the blankets and put them around her and gently stroked her hair for a minute, not quite able to take his eyes away from her. She looked so vulnerable and beautiful lying there, without her usual wall around her. He liked it. As he got up to walk away, Kristina, still asleep, mumbled something inaudible, and Michael got to his knees.
'What were you saying, sweetheart?' he whispered, caressing her cheek.
'Sweetheart? Where the hell did that come from?' he asked himself.
Kristina rumbled around in the bed and held out her hand in her sleep.
'Don't go,' she then whispered and Michaels heart melted. Without a second thought he carefully got into the bed next to her without waking her. Still with her eyes close,d Kristina then laid herself next to him, with her face on his chest. She led out a satisfied sigh, and her breathing came heavy and relaxed again.
Michael was on his back with his eyes open, with one arm around Kristina and the other cuddling her arm. He laughed inside at the idea of him, Michael Jackson, lying in bed, cuddling a girl. But in reality, it felt really nice. Michael had had trouble sleeping for a long time. But with Kristina by his side, it didn't take long for him to feel his eyelids getting heavy. The last thing he remembered before falling asleep were a few lyrics to a song he was working on. The words just popped up in his head as he fell asleep.
I just want to lay next to you for awhile
You look so beautiful tonight
Your eyes are so lovely
Your mouth is so sweet
I just want to touch you
And hold you
God, I need you
I love you so much...