It was a dark, rainy night in early August. Her car had stalled right outside the swanky restaurant. Feeling somewhat embarrassed, she tossed her keys to the cute valet as if nothing was wrong. As the valet headed towards the drivers side, she ran like hell into the restaurant. Feeling a bit frazzled, she headed for the ladies room. Once there, she let out a deep breath...
"Whew! What the hell kind of day am I having!" she swore out loud.
As she was walking up to the full-length mirror, she saw a piece of lint in her hair, a run in her pantyhose, and a piece of lettuce leftover from lunch stuck between her teeth; not to mention her hair all wind-blown and out of place.
"You mean I went all fuckin' day with lettuse in my teeth and no one told me! Ok...ok girl, pull yourself together! You have an important meeting with an investor and his partner. Breathe in...breathe out...breathe in...breathe out... ok whew..." she said, while touching up her lipstick.
After her little pep talk to herself, she changed her hose and combed her hair back into place.
As she did this, she tried not to think about the pissed off valet outside that was incharge of parking her car. She walked out of the restroom and said to herself:
"I bet he wants to kick my ass right now!" with a unsure laugh.
She walked up to the hostess and asked her if she had a Mr. Donald Patrick waiting for a Ms. Kyla Stevenson. The hostess nodded and said:
"He's been anxiously expecting you...along with his know, they told us not to make a fuss, but...oh... I just can't believe...who is here with him. "Kyla, not being in a mood to listen to some hostess with a highly irritation way of speaking, interrupted, smiled politely, and asked her at which table were they seated.
"Table 7..." the waitress gave her a bitchy look.
Kyla rolled her eyes in frustration at the hostess, and said under her breath:
"Where do they find them!"
Only barely hearing what Kyla said, she asked:
"I beg your pardon?" she asked, her voice full of pretention.
"Oh nothing... Nothing. Table 7?"
"Yes, Table 7. Excuse me Madame, I wish to ask you something? You have a little something going on in here? Listen, we don't look kindly upon hooking. This is a highly respectable rest....."
"Excuse me? Hooking! "
"Do you deny it?"

"Listen, Miss Bitchy, you're messin' with the wrong woman on the WRONG day. If you don't want your hair pulled out BY THE ROOTS, you'll leave me the hell alone, and stay out of my way." Then, Kyla walked softly over the plush, luxurious jet black carpeting of the restaurant leaving the aging hostess red with anger and deeply insulted. For the life of her, Kyla could not get over how beautiful this restaurant was.
As she looked around, she noticed Don sitting at a table with someone whose back was to her--with long black hair and a black fedora. She said to herself:
"Now, who would wear a black fedora inside a restaurant? That's kind of odd..."
Don, noticing her from across the restaurant, stood in excitement with a huge smile on his face. She approached swiftly and with a "grin-and-bear-it" attitude, she walked towards the table.
"Don! How are you? Long time no see, huh?"
"Ms. Stevenson! How is everything?"
And just as they unlocked their embrace, she saw him. The most gorgeous, most handsome, most unbelievably talented man she had ever seen...Michael Jackson.
Michael, sitting and waiting politely for them to finish their reunion, smiled at the both of them.
Kyla stood there; mouth wide open in disbelief. Don, noticing her state, cleared his throat and formally introduced them.
"Michael this is Ms. Kyla Stevenson. Kyla, this is Michael Jackson.
Michael, being completely embarrassed by this incredibly beautiful woman staring at him, smiled, stood and reached out to shake her hand.
Kyla just stood there, like a shocked teenaged girl meeting her idol for the very first time.
Don...well Don was forgotten about the moment she set eyes on Michael.
After about 30 seconds, she caught herself staring and closed her mouth.
"I apologize. I just...I just wasn't expecting to meet Michael Jackson in a restaurant tonight."
Then she turns to Don: "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I wanted it to be a surprise. I know how big of a fan you are so I asked Michael to come and sit in on one of our business meetings. And since our business concerns him, it didn't seem like a problem. Do you have a problem with it?" "No! No! No problem at all."

Michael was utterly captivated by this woman. She struck something deep inside him with the tone of her voice, the mild swagger in her walk, and her legs...oh her legs looked as if she was a dancer or as if she worked out religiously. And with the short white business skirt-suit she was wearing, they shown in all their glory. As she made an attempt to sit in between them, Michael jumped up, and pulled out her chair.

"Thank you." she smiled, still somewhat in shock.

"You're welcome."

Michael could not help noticing her gorgeous eyes. The color of the brown leather-bound classics in his library that he'd read so many times before; brown and as deep as oceans. They could swallow a person up inside her soul.

A baby dear. That's what the shape of them reminded him of.

"A baby dear..." he mumbled out of control of his thoughts.

"Did you say something Michael?" Don asked.

"Uh, no. Sorry...just thinking aloud" he said, looking down in embarrassment.

"Well, shall we order?" Don asked.

"Yeah. I'm starved. Don, you wouldn't believe what happened to me today!" Kyla said.

The only thing she could do to keep from staring at Michael was to ramble on and on about the terrible day she had. And as she talked, she spoke to both Don and Michael. She thought to herself:

"Yeah girl, just play this cool and try not to scream out, AHHH! Michael Jackson! Michael Jackson!!! You are in control of yourself, Kyla. Breathe!"

She continued: "So anyway, It started when I woke up this morning...30 minutes late for an important appointment because I forgot to set the alarm clock the night before. Then, as I was getting dressed so quickly, my nails tore through 3 pairs of panty hose..." she blushed a little for saying the words "pany hose" in front of Michael.

"Oh wait! Let me back up a few situations. I forgot to pick up my dry cleaning the day before, so obviously I had none of my absolute, 'knock-'em-dead' business suits to wear, not that it mattered anyway you know, they'd all be pissed..." she stopped abruptly and looked at Michael.

"I'm sorry! Excuse my language!"

Michael just smiled and nodded.

She thought: "Girl, get a grip!! God give me strength..."

"Really? you mean I didn't offend you?" she asked Michael.

"No, not at all. Sometimes I get pissed too" he said jokingly to lighten the uncomfortable nature she was in.

She smiled and continued to babble away.

"So, anyway, I finally made it to my car and what do I discover? I'm almost on empty! So, I had to stop at a gas station that looked kind of shady, if you know what I mean. I think he gave me some contaminated gas or something because my car has been stalling all day. So I finally get to the office and..."

And as she talked, Michael listened attentively at this most astonishing creature.

"A business woman too! She has brains and beauty. And what a figure! She's just so intelligent, and those eyes..." he thought to himself.

By this time, Michael was looking dreamily into her eyes like a love sick teenaged boy that was afraid to ask this raven-haired Goddess out on a date.

Kyla continued to babble: "...and can you believe that as I pulled up to the restaurant, my car stalled AGAIN! That valet must be soooo angry with me right now!" she chuckled.

She had the most beautiful laugh he had ever had the pleasure of hearing. Her laugh, to Michael, was like a harp playing in heaven.

Michael thought: "Whew! Calm down Michael! She's only a beautiful woman... You've seen hundreds of them before. How can she be affecting me like this?"

Kyla continued: "...and no one ever bothered to tell me I had lettuce stuck between my teeth!"

And at that comment, both Michael and Don laughed out loud.

"It's not funny you guys, " she said chuckling right along with them.

"...and let me tell you what else happened. When I came here, that bimbo of a hostess thought I was a high priced hooker! She accused me of hooking in this "highly respectable" restaurant...oh the food here."

"No. She didn't! What did you say in response?" Don asked.

"Well, lets just say I threatened to beat the crap out of her in this "highly respectable restaurant" and pull her hair out by the roots...." she chuckled.

They ate, and laughed together, and she saw for herself how wonderful of a sense of humor Michael had. He laughed and joked right along with them and they talked about everything--from what kind of toys they had when they were little, to what kind of movies they loved. Don was a little more reserved, but he could tell some pretty funny stories too, though.

Kyla simply fell more in love with this man's laugh, if that was possible. She could already tell his embarrassed laugh from his excited laugh and his "that-was-very-funny" chuckle from his "the-only-reason-I'm-laughing-is-because-I'm-so-embarrassed" chuckle.

She learned more about him that night than she had ever learned from reading newspapers and magazines. Even her imagination was no competition for the real thing.

For example, she learned that Michael had an extremely strong work ethic and a drive to be the best at whatever he tried; much like herself. She also learned that he is somewhat uncomfortable around people with whom he just met--not because he was odd, but because he was afraid they wouldn't accept him or like the kind of person he was for some jealous or vindictive reason.

She learned that he liked compliments; they helped his self-confidence. She learned that he believed in the concept of "soul mates" and that there was a perfect woman that would both identify with and be complimentary to his personality traits; like a yin and yang situation.

He was feeling very chatty for some reason. Maybe because Kyla understood the points he was trying to make before he could fully express them clearly. Perhaps he was because he just couldn't feel uncomfortable around her. Perhaps he was because he liked her.

Needless to say, they didn't get any business plans discussed and being the last three people to leave the restaurant, decided on another day to get together and really discuss business.

As they got ready to leave, both Don and Michael got into separate vehicles, watching Kyla waving goodbye to her wonderful dinner partners. And then her luck returned to its normal state...her car was parked down the street and probably wouldn't start.

"Oh shit!" She said aloud, causing the valet to look at her.

"Could you call me a cab?"

"Sorry, ma'am. I am officially OFF duty in 2 seconds. There. Call your own damn cab!" He shot at her from over his shoulder as he was walking to his car and left.

She started to get angry, then understood his mood. "It probably took him a long time to get it parked down the street!" she said.

"What am I going to do now?"

Then another bad luck situation hit her: she'd left her cellular phone on the desk in her office.

"Ahhh! Damn!" she said, tired and defeated.

Just then, a black suburban pulled up next to the curb. The window came rolling down and who did she see? That gorgeous man named Michael Jackson.

He had remembered the problems she was having with her car and came back to make sure everything was alright. He couldn't keep his mind on anything else.

"Hi! Need a lift?" He said with a slightly embarrassed chuckle.

"Yeah! Thank God! I didn't know what I was gonna do! I left my cell phone at the office so I couldn't call anyone without walking 3 or 4 blocks to a pay phone. And the valet I asked to call me a cab, yelled at me..." she began babbling again.

"Well, you can tell me all about it on the ride home," he said with an almost angelic smile.

He unlocked the door, opened it, and slid over to the other side.

She stepped in and when doing so, tore a tiny hole in her last good pair of panty hose.

"Damn!" she blurted out, covering her mouth almost immediately.

"It's okay, Kyla. I'm a grown man. I curse sometimes too.."

"Sorry... not for cursing out! For apologizing for cursing...I mean, I just....I just don't want to offend you. You know, I read in the paper that you cover your ears when people swear and that you..." she said.

"What is going on! Get a grip girl! Get a freaking grip!" she thought to herself.

"Let me see," he said, reaching down for her leg.

He stroked her ankle softly and ran his finger over the whole. Then, his hands began to very slowly move upward until he was at her knee.

She couldn't believe it. Michael Jackson was feeling her legs!

Kyla, being the ever attentive flirt, said nothing and acted as though this was natural.

She continued to speak: "...and that you don't like when people curse cause it sends out negative energy vibes, or something."

"Ummmm, Michael!" she was thinking.

Michael, getting a hold of himself, quickly removed his hands and looked at her under the moonlight coming through the open sunroof.

"Where do you live?" he asked.

"Uh...I'm staying at a hotel. Oh no! I left my hotel key in my satchel...which is locked inside my car. What's really going on?! Maybe I should stop cursing so much! That maybe why so much negative energy is with me."

She threw her head back like a whipped dog.

"Oh you, uh, wanna stay at my house? Not my house, but one of my hideaways that I go to when I want to be alone," he asked.

"I couldn't impose..." she lied.

"You won't be imposing. Anyway, do you have your I.D. with you?"

"Aw Damn! It's in my satchel...I did it again!"

"Then how will you get them to give you a spare key to your room without any I.D.?" he said, looking like he had just won a very important intellectual argument.

And so, they headed to one of Michael's secret hideaway in a secluded location.

"Oh great!" she wanted to scream, "I wonder what the night will bring?" she said to herself.

"So, Michael," Kyla began, "Aren't you afraid that if you take me to your secret hideout, it won't be a secret anymore?"

"Nope," he simply said.

"Why not?"

"Because...I feel like I can trust you," he said turning and looking at her.

"You just met me. How do you know I don't have a secret hidden camera in my bracelet or somewhere?"

"Do you?" he asked, flirtatiously.

" hear you're working on a new album?"


There was an awkward silence.

"You have a name for it yet?" she was trying her hardest to make small talk.

"Nope, not yet."

"What are some of the songs on the album?"

"I don't mean to sound rude or anything, but I don't want to talk right now. I'm having a mental vision."

And as Michael closed his eyes, Kyla stared wide-eyed, and curious like a child. She thought to herself: "I wonder what he's thinking. I bet its something meaning and spiritual. I bet its another idea for another song or something."

As she sat there, Michael was visually picturing how it would feel to kiss her lips, touch her breasts, and feel her lying on top of him. He was curious as to how she would sound as they were making love, and would she want to spend the rest of her life with him.

"I must be crazy!" He said aloud, forgetting for a brief second that he wasn't alone.

"Excuse me?" said Kyla.

"Nothing, nothing. Just thinking aloud again."

Another awkward silence.

"Oh, here we are." he said.

They arrived at this huge, mansion-styled house. Kyla thought: "It figures his hideaway would be some huge mansion! What am I saying? This is a little apartment compared to Neverland.

Michael stepped out of the car, walking over to Kyla's side to open the door and helped her out.

"Thank you," she said politely as he held out his hand to her.

Kyla thought: "Oooo, his hand is so soft and rather huge...and such long fingers! That is a definite plus!" She chuckled out loud causing Michael to look over at her.

"What's so funny?" he said.

"Nothing. Just thinking about something."

"Yeah, you know I hear that once you go crazy and start to talk and laugh to yourself, they send you to the loony farm," he said, jokingly.

"Well, then, both of us should call ahead and make our reservations." she laughed.

She walked a couple of steps behind him, up the stairs, and to the door. He pulled out his keys and opened the door himself because it was late, and he didn't want to disturb the cook that was already asleep by now.

"Oh my God," was Kyla's only response. This place was beautiful! Everything was in its own little place. The wooden floors were incredibly shinny. The living room was huge and the spacious couch was very inviting. Even the pictures on the walls seemed to fit just perfectly.

"Michael! Its simply breath-taking!"

"Glad you like it. I'm very proud of it. I picked out the decorations and everything!" he said that last sentence like an excited little child.

"I just...I don't think I'm worthy." she joked.

In his heart, Michael was saying: "You are worthy of the world on a solid gold platter."

But his words came out awkward: "Well, you are worth it...I mean, you're not unworthy, I mean, some people are worthy of everything. No wait! That didn't come out right!" Now he was babbling!

"I understand," she said with a smile.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, sure, what?" she replied.

"Would you mind if I kissed you? I mean, if you don't feel that way about me, I just...I mean...well...," he stammered.

And as he was babbling, she leaned over and kissed his lips, not too hard, not too soft. As they kissed, Michael's hands came across her over back and lingered very close to her buttocks. And then......and then......

"Kyla? Kyla? Wake up sleepy head. We're here."


It was all a dream!!! A lousy stinking dream!!! She couldn't believe it! She had fallen asleep in the car on the ride to his house. Needless to say, she was terribly disappointed.

"But you...I..." she stammered.

"Humm?" was Michael's reply.

Kyla thought: "Oh, that's just great! A perfectly rotten end to my perfectly rotten day."

When the car stopped, Michael got out first, and walked up to the door motioning for Kyla to join him. She thought: "Oh, he isn't going to open the door for me? Guess he's not very chivalrous to women with whom he just met. Interesting."

She was beginning to figure him out. He was like a wonderfully talented, outrageously beautiful puzzle that she wanted to get to know better. She took pride in solving things.

"Michael... I've been calling you Michael and I didn't even ask you if I could call you that. You want me to call you Mr. Jackson or the King of Pop or something?" she said very seriously, finally making it up to the door where he was standing.

"You're joking right?"

"Uh...I uh..."

"You've read one to many articles in the wrong magazines Kyla. You should think about changing your reading material. A little less, Enquirer. I don't ask people in my personal life to call me that. I don't ask the fans to call me that. Stay away from the rags, Kyla," he said with a boyish grin.

Kyla thought: "This man is perfect. He's smart, funny, intelligent, and polite, and has a very serious side to him. What about what the papers were saying? Was he really weird? As much as I like him, his music, and his talent, I can't help but to wonder if the papers were in some way true. However, I haven't seen him do anything that would be considered weird. I haven't heard him say anything weird. So where was all this 'weird' nonsense coming from?"

"Hey Michael? Why do you wear so much makeup?" she asked, trying to figure out the whole 'weird' thing.

"To even out the blotches on my skin." he said, point blank.

"How big are these blotches for you to use so much?"

He began to dislike her probing attitude.

"Listen. I'm a little tired. I'm going to sleep. You can go into the bedroom, last door on the left. There should be some pajamas or something in the drawer. Good night."

Kyla thought: "Oh Shit! I offended him! Man! He's never going to tell me anything. Way to go girl! Real smooth. I guess the night isn't going to be as exciting as I hoped."

As Kyla started towards her door, Michael came back, peeking around the corner. He just had to get a look at that walk again! Michael thought: "Look at her...she's absolutely perfect! Right down to the way she walks. Just let me make it through the night Lord!"

He hurried back to his bedroom which was a ways down the hall and to the right.

Kyla opened the door and, of course, the room had all the necessary things that one would ever need. Kyla thought: "If this is his place for getting away from people, why would he have a hotel-like bedroom set up this way?"

Another piece of the puzzle. Now, if she only knew where it fit!

She yawned sleepily as she took off her business clothing and slipped on the p.j.s.

"Ooooo, nice. Silk too!" she thought out loud.

"As she got into bed, she noticed how huge it was, and how little she felt being in the king-size bed all alone. She wanted a little company. She was in "the mood" so to speak. An hour went past, and she was still wide awake. She turned and looked at the clock.

"2:58 a.m. I have got to get some rest."

She just couldn't shake that feeling. The only thing worse than deciding to wait until marriage to have sex, was being obligated to wait. So, she began to do something she had been doing since she was 16; pleasuring herself.

As she laid there on her back, with her finger down below 'uncharted territory', she began to think about Michael. His soft flowing hair. His huge, child-like eyes. His smile that was so bright, it could light up a small city. She wondered how it would feel to have his hands all over her; how it would feel to be passionately made love to by him for hours and hours at a time.

"Michael..." she called out in the quiet night.

Before she knew it, she was there; moving her hips wildly as she laid on the bed. What she didn't know what that Michael was watching!

He had snuck down the hall to watch her sleeping. For some reason, he was curious as to whether or not she snored. He got a big surprise instead! She hadn't noticed him, the door was only slightly ajar.

Michael's thoughts: "I shouldn't be watching this. What am I doing? This is personal for her."

But he couldn't take his eyes off her secret display. And when she called out his name, he could hardly believe what he was hearing. He wanted to join her; lie beside her, take over the job she was doing on herself.

After she came, Michael quietly slipped back down the hall into his bedroom. The bulge in his pajamas made it a little weird to walk.

Michael thought: "I must be mad! That's it! Completely insane to watch her like that. I hope she didn't see me! Please, I hope she didn't see me!" he pleaded to God. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, scared that she saw him watching her.

He thought: "I've only know this woman for 5 hours and she's completely taken over my thoughts."

Finally he fell asleep; peaceful at last. And Kyla finally fell asleep as well. Both thinking about the other, wishing and hoping.

The next morning was bright and beautiful. The sun shown through the window brightening the entire room.

Kyla rose, stretched, yawned, and sat in bed looking out the window.

"Beautiful," was the first word that came to her.

It was 6:35 a.m.

Michael was still in bed dreaming of her.

Kyla got out of bed and walked to the bathroom.

"Uhhh! I look horrible!" she said, looking into the mirror.

She took care of her business, took a shower, and brushed her teeth.

"My goodness, he even has new toothbrushes already sitting out..." she thought.

"Ah! That's much better."

She then put on the same clothes she had from yesterday and walked down to Michael's room to see if he was awake. It was now 8:45 a.m.

She tip-toed to Michael's door, which was slightly ajar.

As she peeked into the room, she saw him. He was asleep on his back with the covers down to his knees. He had on a white V-neck styled undershirt and black satin pajama bottoms. His hair was flowing around the pillow, cascading over his shoulders and down his neck.

She was frozen in time; unable to move or speak. Then all of a sudden, Michael opened his eyes and saw Kyla standing there. He jumped up.

"Uh! Good morning."

"Morning. I didn't mean to wake you. I was just...I just wanted to know if you were awake."

"I am now," Michael said with a small yawn, "So, where ya off to?" he asked.

"Um, I have to get home and change. Then its off to the office."

"Did you sleep well?"

"I did. The bed was as soft as feathers."

"I'm glad. I didn't want you to be uncomfortable," he said with another little yawn.

"Well, thank you very much," the professional business woman in her came out.

"Now, I would appreciate it if you would arrange for your driver to take me back the hotel."

Michael said, "Hey, do you have to leave so soon? It's only 8:55. Can't you at least stay for breakfast?"

"Well, I guess I could call in and tell them I'm going to be late. Ha! I'm already late anyway. I was supposed to be there at 9:00. Oh...Ok. I'll have breakfast with you Michael."

At that instant, Michael jumped out of bed and looked as if his heart would burst from happiness.

"Breakfast will be ready in 10 minutes!" he said from over his shoulder as he was leaving the room.

And there was Kyla, standing alone in Michael's bedroom. Michael was very messy; not junky, just a little unorganized. There were books of all kinds scattered all over the floor. There were CD's of all kinds of artists on the dressers, at the foot of the bed, and on the floor. There were other trinkets on the dressers and pictures of Jesus and Peter Pan on the walls.

Kyla thought: "How could someone so pristine, so immaculate have such a messy room?"

On the night stand, she saw a picture of one of the most famous women in the world right now. It was Kisha Emazz. (lol ! don't you love the name lol!) She was talented, gorgeous, and filthy rich. Of all the entertainers in the world, she came the closet to Michael in talent, style, and sheer genius.

"Hum, I wonder if he's seeing her?"

Then she thought: "Oh yeah, he is a bachelor. He probably has pictures of all kinds of women."

"Hummm...I wonder what Michael Jackson has in his closet...."

She checked to make sure Michael wasn't coming back up the stairs and she began to boldly go where no man and probably no woman had ever gone before.

She opened the door and to her amazement she saw....she saw.......CLOTHES!

She said aloud: "Oooh! Clothes! Now I know he's weird. What kind of person keeps CLOTHES in a closet?" she made fun of her curiosity.

She began to touch his clothes; holding them up to her nose and smelling his wonderful scent.

Becoming overwhelmed by the experience, she leaned too far over and hit some secret switch that made the back wall of Michael's walk in closet open up. There were motion sensitive lights running along the length of a short hallway.

"What's this?"

She felt the curious child in her come out once more and began to walk the length of the hallway. She wasn't even thinking about the gorgeous man downstairs supervising his cook, who he'd awakened, making them breakfast.

The hallway led to a long flight of stairs, which she immediately began to descend. She was getting closer and closer to a lighted area.

"It's some sort of a cave," she looked shocked.

"This can't be a real cave."

And it wasn't. It was a replica of a cave. But this cave was different. It had grass on the ground; the soft kind. It had a candle-lit glow about it. It looked more like a secret-rendezvous/romantic getaway fantasy place.

"Only Michael," she said with a chuckle.

She turned to go back to Michael's bedroom.

"Oh!" she drew in a breath.

He was standing on the last step looking at her.

"I...I, uh..." she began, "I'm so sorry. I really am. I was just so curious as to what was in your closet, and I accidentally pushed something, and the door opened, and I know I shouldn't have..." she was babbling again.

He held up his hand, motioning for her to stop.

Even though he gained his composure back, he was still a little angry at her for snooping.

"You see something that interests you?"

She was confused by his question.


"Do you like it down here?"

"It's...different. But in a good kind of way. It's very romantic."

"Yeah. You should see it at night when the moon is full and the stars are shinning brightly."

She thought to herself: "Is he hitting on me?"

Just then he went over to a piece of a rock, moved it, and revealed a control panel. He pushed a button and a piece of pseudo-rock began to move. It revealed the morning glow of the sun.

"Oo," she said.

"You like it?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Yeah. You had this built! I didn't even know they had companies that built....pseudo-caves that connect to someone's bedroom,"

"Yeah, well, I got lucky," he said coming over to her.

He was dangerously close to her now.

She thought: "He is hitting on me!"

He looked down thoughtfully into her eyes and asked her:

"Do you still wanna have breakfast with me?"

She didn't answer. She was off in her own little world, which involved him kissing her passionately and running his hands all over her body.

Michael walked up to her and put both arms on her shoulder.

"Kyla? Are you ok? Hello?"

She was daydreaming.

"Huh? Damn!" she swore aloud.

"Ok, Kyla, Remember what you said about swearing and negative energy," he joked.

"Oh yeah...right." she said, embarrassed.

"So...," he waited for her answer.


"Are you still having breakfast with me?"

"Oh. On yeah. Only if you answer this question: Why aren't you angry with me for snooping?"

"I was angry with you. I'm just not very good at expressing my anger outside of my music. Besides....I snoop too sometimes," he said with a wide grin.

"Come on. Let's go eat."

They had breakfast, which was delicious, and she said goodbye to her cutie pie.

"Hay! Kyla wait!" Michael said, catching her before she got into the car, "Um, when can I see you again? I really enjoy your company."

Kyla smiled and said, "How about tomorrow night, say around 9:00?"

"Ok. I'll see you then."

With that, she headed out the door. Once she made it to the car, the driver was looking at her with this huge 'you-slept-with-Michael' look on his face.

She said to him, "Don't even think about it! Nothing happened. And if I dare see you on Hard Copy 'telling all,' I swear, I'll have you begging me to show mercy on you." she was extremely serious.

That slapped the smile right off his face.

When they made it to her car down the street from the restaurant, she went to reach for her car keys. Low and behold, there they were, still in the ignition, locked inside her car.

"Ah, damn!" she said, kicking the front tire.

She finally made it up to the front desk with her satchel, her I.D., and her car keys after paying "Pop-A-Lock" $65.00 for unlocking her car.

They gave her a spare key, just incase, and up she went.

She was so busy with the rotten luck she was having, that she didn't even think about Michael until she finishing making her flight reservations to return home to Atlanta, GA.

Her night was a restless one. All her thoughts were filled with Michael: his scent, his softness, his gently disposition, his eyes, his smile and oh don't forget those fingers!

She hardly got any rest at all and she looked like hell the next morning.

"Uh!" She said, licking her tongue out at the creature that was staring back at her in the mirror.

Today was the day when she would see her sweetie pie again.

"I just love the nickname," she spoke out loud. Then thought to herself: "He liked it too when I gave it to him over breakfast."

All the day long Michael was on her mind. Usually she could keep her mind off certain situations when she worked. But this time was different, of course.

Finally!!! 5:00! Quitting' time!

All she wanted to do was go home, soak in a hot bubble bath and prepare herself for Michael. Just as she was walking out of her office, her boss came in with an armful of paper-work.

"Ms. Stevenson, we have to have these finished by tomorrow morning at 9 AM. Get busy.

"Oh no, no, no, no! I'm not staying here tonight to finish this! Have one of the others do it! I have.... an appointment at 9:00!"

"Excuse me? Did you forget who you're talking to?"

"Man please! Did you forget? I trained you when you didn't know a damn thing about advertising or promotions or management! Now, you get someone else to handle this or do it your damn self!"

She didn't want to think about the glass ceiling or discrimination tonight. Then, she walked out of the office and turned off the lights, leaving her pseudo-boss standing speechless in the dark, with an arm full of papers.

Now. Off to see Michael!

Michael was looking out the window waiting for Kyla to pull up.

"I wonder what she'll wear tonight?" he said aloud.

His excitement was clearly written all over his face. Even his cook could see how thrilled he was.

"You're excited about Ms. Stevenson?"

"Yeah! Oh, I mean," he pretended he could take her or leave her.

"...she's ok. She insisted on having dinner with me tonight, so I'm just being polite."

"Yeah, right, Michael. She insisted?" he said with a smile.

"No. I insisted! I'm sooo, soooo excited!" he said, blushing.

The cook just chuckled in amusement at his smitten boss, who continued to probe the starfilld night for his queen.

"I wonder what he's thinking," Kyla thought as she was driving her rental car up to Michael's protective gate.

The security guy recognized her from the other night and let her in without hassle.

"MJ's expecting you," the first security guy said with a huge smile.

"And ma'am, take it easy on him," the second one joked.

Kyla just shook her head in amusement.

"Don't worry, I'll try not to hurt him," she replied with a little chuckle.

When Michael saw her pull up, he jumped up and down clapping his hands like a 3 year old.

"She's here!"

He ran to the door and just before opening it, ran his fingers through his hair one more time; not that it made a difference anyway. (lol)

When he opened the door, there she was--his goddess, his queen; in a pantsuit!!

"Huh?" Michael said aloud, disappointed.

"Nothing, nothing," he looked down at the floor and stepped out of the way, "Please come in."

Though it was not what he expected, he had to admit that even in a conservative pantsuit, she still looked hot.

"You look great!"

"So, do you. What are we eating tonight?? I'm starved! I didn't eat lunch today."

At that question, he wanted to answer, "hopefully, you..."

"Oh, just a little pasta, and salad, baked potato...and apple juice," he smiled at the last one.

"That sounds nice. I especially LOVE apple juice," she said smiling.

The evening went along beautifully and they felt as if they'd known each other for years. They knew so much about each other in such a short period of time. They talked for hours. Then he heard, the most heartbreaking words he'd heard in a long time:

"Michael, I'm engaged to be April of next year."

Michael's eyes dropped to the floor. He felt like crying.

"Oh," he managed to say.

"But it's not like a real marriage. It's so complicated to explain...It's more of a business deal of sorts. A rotten deal, but a deal nonetheless."

Michael couldn't believe what he was hearing. This woman was going to marry someone for money. Could this be? He heard something deeper in her meaning. What did she mean by "its so complicated to explain?"

"What?" he asked.

His head was trying to make since out of what she was telling him. Could she be a gold-digger? What did she want from him? Why would she do this?

"Is money that important to sacrifice a life of marriage for?" he asked.

"No! I'm not finished."

"Go on."

"What I found out is that the father of the guy I'm suppose to marry is blackmailing my father. You see, daddy's business partner embezzled 15 million dollars from the company over 5 years. The money was supposed to be for a charity my father was heading. His father got his hands on some very incriminating documents with my father's forged signature on them..."

Michael began thinking: "this is like a soap opera."

"He said that he wanted control of daddy's business or else he'd go the FBI."

"Go on."

"He said that a merger would not look that suspicious to anyone. His rotten son-of-a-bitch for a son has had sort of a crush on me. He wants to conquer me! The only way he can get me is this way! He talked his father into making the deal contingent upon the two of us getting married..."

And then she broke down into tears.

"Ooh...shhh. Don't cry," he said taking her into his arms.

"My God," he thought, "How could they do this to her?"

"I just...just don't see where I have a choice. I have to or my father and a lot of people who work at the company will go to jail or loose their jobs."

"Hush...shhh. You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"But, what else can I do?"

"I don't know. But you can't marry someone you don't love! What if you meet your soulmate or something while you're married to this guy?"

"He said that he didn't expect the marriage to be one of monogamy. I told him that I refuse to go whoring around town like some tramp and that if we had to get married, I wanted him to stay faithful."

"What did he say?"

"He said that he calls the shots and that he could do anything he damn well pleased. That includes him jumping from bed to bed to bed! I refused to be made a fool out of like that. Isn't it bad enough I'm being made a fool out of by being blackmailed into marrying him! Then, he slapped me."

Michael's eyes widened at the thought of anyone hurting her.

"That...that bastard!" Michael said, surprising himself.

If he ever touches you again...."

"I don't want you going to jail for that piece of crap! Cause he'll sue in a heartbeat. I just, I just..." she began crying again.

Michael looked down at this sweet angel crying in his arms. He pushed her away from him a little and began to kiss her tears, slowly and softly.

"I'll find a way out of this. I promise you that," he said.

She just continued to cry until he passionately kissed her. She placed her hand upon his left cheeks as they were kissing.


"Stay with me tonight, please...I need to feel you...I know we only just met, but I feel like I know you so well," he asked, breathlessly.

"I can't...I...I just can't," she said pulling away from him and looking down at the floor.

"Why not?"

"Because of Clause No. 2, Section 8, Sub-section B, page 87."


"The marriage...I have to show proof that I'm....still a virgin."


"Yeah. When they found out, they made it a part of the contract. What I want to know is how diary! That's how that bastard found out! The maids told me he barged into my room while I was gone one day. After that night, I never could find my diary!"

Michael was stunned.

"Please don't be angry with me...I'm sorry!"

Then, she jumped up and ran out the door to her car, started the engine, and left.

Michael sat there dumbfounded.

"This is the one. I know it is. I have to help her," he thought.

"Huh?? Kyla!"

He was so spellbound by the thought of them being together, he hadn't realized that she'd actually left. He just thought she ran into the bathroom.


He made it to the window just in time to see her tail lights moving away in the dark night.

He tried to contact her all through the night. He tried the office and the hotel where she was staying:

"What! She checked out? When?"

The voice said just about half an hour ago.

"Oh no! Did she say where she was going?"

The voice said no.

"Ok, thank you," he hung up the phone, anxiety eating him up inside.

"Where could she be? Where is she going? What did I do wrong?" he questioned.

He remembered her saying at dinner that she lived in Atlanta and that she was temporarily working to set up the LA office for her company.

"I have to go to Atlanta! I bet that's where she'll be," he exclaimed.

Finally making it to the airstrip, he hurried on the plane telling everyone to speed up. He was frustrated and anxious to find Kyla.

"I wonder what's taking so long! God!"

"I wonder what's taking so long?" Kyla said as she waited in line to board the Redeye Flight 268 to Atlanta.

She had been crying that whole night and wore shades to hide her puffy, red eyes.

The only thing she wanted to do was get home to her own bed, take a hot bubble-bath, and try to forget that incident with Michael.

She had convinced herself that Michael didn't want someone with so many personal problems. That he would think she was trifling. That she was not worthy of him. She would stay away from him for fear of ruining his life, she concluded.

"Oh God, if Peter knew I was in love with Michael Jackson he'd probably try to embezzle money from him too. That bastard!"

That sealed he decision. She didn't want Michael getting hurt by this vicious, calculating man.

"Michael doesn't know what Peter's capable of. He could ruin his career with me. The rag magazines would have field day with this information!"

The situation was looking more and more bleak.

She finally made it up to the ticket counter and what did she discover:

"Shit! I left my ticket on the coffee table at the hotel!"

Her old luck was returning once more.

"Yes! Yes! Finally! We're moving!" Michael said aloud, the frustration at an uncharacteristically high level.

He was on his way to rescue his dream woman. If only he knew how!

"Well, I could use my clout to persuade him to break the deal," he thought to himself, "Maybe I could expose him for the liar he is. Maybe I could hire a hit man to kill him!!" he thought in utter frustration.

Michael's not the kind of man to give up. He's persistent and determined, especially for something he wants and needs: the love of a woman whom he adores, respects, and cherishes.

He sat there in total frustration; sweat pouring from his head.

He thought: "It hurts not being able to help someone who is being hurt; reminds me of my mother."

"Hey! Someone turn on the air-conditioning!" he shouted.

Before he knew it, the flight was over and he'd landed at the airport. He rushed off the jet before anyone else and jumped into the navigator.

"Come on Rory!" he yelled out of the window from inside the vehicle.

"Take me to Stewart/Hollifield Management and Advertising Agency," he said in Rory.

"Right away, sir."

Kyla has to go back to the hotel and get her ticket because her flight was sold out, so she couldn't purchase another ticket at the airport.

When she was driving back to the airport, the sun was rising.

She thought: "Oh that's great! Just perfect! Damn it! I've missed the flight."

So, with a broken spirit, she decided that she'd go back to Michael's house, if he'll have her.

"Might as well face the music now...hope he doesn't curse me out or anything..."

What she didn't know was the Michael was already on his way to the Atlanta offices in search of her!

She drove to Michael's house defeated and tired.

Once there, she discovered from the security guys that Michael had gone to the airstrip and taken his private jet to some unknown location.

"Oh ok...thank you."

She had to check back into the hotel.

"The story of my life," she thought to herself.

"I'm looking for a Ms. Stevenson," Michael told the receptionist.

"Ms. Stevenson is at the LA offices," She couldn't believe who she was talking to.

"But...I thought she was here! Can you tell me her address?"

"We're not allowed to give out that information," she said with a slight giggle.

"Please?? I need to find her. I have to talk to her. Its important!"

"Sorry. Please understand. Why are you looking for her?" a twinge of jealousy arose in her tone.

When Michael put on that "pitiful little boy" face, the receptionist's heart melted.

"Ok. The address is, oh, let me write it down for you."

Michael read: 527 Cloverlane Dr... Call me sometime- 555-6347- Carroll.

He looked down at Carroll: "Thank you very much. I hope I'm not getting you into any trouble." He was definitely NOT interested.

"No problem," she replied smiling, her body hot with desire.

With the address in hand, he flew out to the car and told Rory where to go.

"Step on it!" he yelled.

"Hum! Why's he looking for the Queen bitch of the world?" she commented to her boss's secretary from across the room.

Cloverlane Dr. was just outside Atlanta where all the rich families lived. The drive was a good hour and a half from the downtown area where the company was located.

"How much further?" he asked impatiently.

"Oh, about another hour. With this traffic, it could be another two."

"Damn!" Michael swore aloud.

He could hear Kyla's voice saying:

"Don't swear cutie pie. Remember the negative energy?"

"I'm sorry..." he said aloud.

"Excuse me, sir?" the Rory asked.


They drive ahead in silence.

Oh, Ms. Stevenson. You're back so soon?" the hotel clerk asked her.

"Yeah. I left my ticket and missed my flight."

"I'm sorry. Are you checking back in?"


"Same room?"


"Ok, all set! John, grab her bags will you?"

With that, she walked to the elevator. Before she could make it there, the clerk called out: "Ms. Stevenson!"

She walked back up to the desk.

"There was a man calling for you. He sounded upset about something."
Her heart raced! Could it be??
"Did he leave a name or number?"
"No, he just asked. He called about half an hour after you'd checked out."
"He did! What did he sound like?"
"Just answer me.
"To tell you the truth, I kind of thought he sounded like…..uh….Michael Jackson!" he said with a grin, "Yeah, he definitely had a distinct voice."
Her heart was racing. He was searching for her!
"Did he say if he was coming back or anything else?"
"No, ma'am. Sorry."
In a way she was relieved. She had to keep Michael away from her, no matter how much it hurt. In another way, she was so sad for doing this to him.
"I should have never stayed at his house that night! I should have taken my chances here at the hotel," she thought.
Then she thought: "If I did, I never would have found out that his favorite color is black, or that he doesn't like to wash his own hair cause it takes too long, or that he sleeps in a white shirt and silk pajama bottoms, or that he LOVES chocolate."
Her thoughts were drifting back to him: the way he made her feel when he touched her, his breath on her ear, his scent, his beautiful eyes, his laugh, his great attitude about life, his adoration for women.
"Oh man! This sucks!" she said dropping her head down as the elevator door opened.
"Excuse me ma'am," John said.
"Nothing," she replied.
If she only knew how much Michael loved her, how she made his heart dance with excitement, how much he liked her.
If only she knew he would do anything for her; to be with her, to be loved by her.
If only she knew he was in Atlanta heading for her empty house!
Once in her room, she ran to the phone and called one of Michael's business partners: Daniel Wyatt.



"I have to get in contact with Michael! Do you know where he is?"

"Wait! Slow down! How have you been Kyla? Why do you need to get in touch with Michael?"

"He, uh, I uh, just please tell me if you know where he is."

"Sorry, I don't. What's this all about?" he pried.

"I can't explain now. Just please call me back at the hotel if you find out where he is."

With that, she hung up the phone without even so much as saying goodbye.

Her heart sank like a stone.

"Where is he? Why was he calling me? Maybe he just wanted to see if I am ok."

She calmed down and decided that it was best for Michael NOT to be in any kind of contact with her. She was a "marked woman" so to speak, who didn't want anyone else around her getting hurt.

But what she didn't know was that the person who orchestrated the whole set up with Peter and his father was Daniel Wyatt!

"Yeah, Peter. Yeah. She called me frantically looking for Michael Jackson."

"Why?" said Peter.

"I don't know. I didn't even know she knew Michael Jackson."

"So, how's the plan going?"

"Very well. By the end of this year, we'll have Michael begging to pay us to stop! HAHAHA!"

"Just make sure it goes off without a hitch."

"Ok...Ok. Don't worry. When we're finished with him, the world is going to ask 'Michael who?' HAHAHAHA!"

"Where are you in the plan as of right now?"

"Well, I've gained his complete trust. The false story I planted in the Enquirer made him very pissed, so I came out publically against the writer and now he thinks I'm completely on his side, stupid fool."

"What's next?"

"I'll get the boy's parents to sue him for child molestation. After the first time, the public is going to believe everything this time. Bless Evan Chandler! He had a hell of a scam going on!"


"That man is a genius! He's my inspiration. HAHAHAHA!"

"Very good, very good. I'll be calling for more updates later in the week."

"Ok. Don't worry. We're gonna have the company financially set for the next 2 centuries! HAHAHAHA!"

"Very well, goodbye."

With that, Daniel hung up the phone. The devil in sheep clothing was preparing to strike! But what he couldn't figure out was why Kyla was looking for Michael.

"Kyla? Kyla? Open up! It's Michael! Kyla? Are you in there?"

He rung the doorbell and knocked on the door so hard that Rory thought he would knock it down.

"Kyla, please talk to me!"

No answer.

"Please! I'm begging. Open the door."

No answer.


He must have knocked for twenty minutes with no answer. Rory had gotten tired and went to the car to rest.

Michael's heart felt incredibly heavy. He just sat on her porch trying to understand why she'd ran off.

"I can't understand it. I can protect her. Why did she run away?" he said aloud.

Then, Rory broke his concentration: "MJ? Mike don't you think we should get you to a hotel? We should call Wayne and Yannick. They might be furious right now."


"Hurry. I think the neighbors are starting to get nosy."

Michael jumped up and ran to the car, slamming the door in behind him.

As they drove, Michael was slumped down in the back seat, his hair was in disarray, and his head was spinning.

"Which hotel, sir?"

"Any one of them, Hyatt, Omni, whatever, I don't care."

"Ok. I heard the Hyatt is the best."

"Fine," his reply was almost inaudible.

Once at the counter, the driver checked Michael in and everything went off without a hitch.

"Mr. Jackson," the desk clerk yelled, running up to him.

"Could you please sign this for my wife and kid? They love you. They have all of your albums."

"Ok," was his response.

Michael signed the paper for him.

"Thanks. Thanks a lot," the clerk said with gigantic smile on his face.

"Your welcome," Michael said quietly.

They were escorted by the hotel security up to the Presidential Penthouse floor, exclusively for the rich and famous that came there.

"I hope you find everything in order, Mr. Jackson," one of the guards said while opening the door.

"Um hum," Michael said while staring at the floor.

The guards left.

Michael didn't even notice how beautiful the room was. He just sat on the soft couch thinking about his goddess.

"I wonder what she's doing right now," he thought.

"Oh! I have to call Wayne and Yannick and tell them where we are."

Rory just stood there watching and feeling Michael's pain.

"Get out of here you asshole!" Kyla shouted as 6'5, 250 pound Peter barged into her hotel room.

"How the hell did he find me?" she thought.

"You're so feisty! I love that! It makes the challenge worthwhile. HA!" the dirty bastard said.

"What do you want?"

"I want to know how do you know Michael Jackson?"

"What? Michael? How did you know I knew him?"

"Oh, a little birdie told me. I know everything! Answer me!"

"I met him about 3 nights ago. Why do you want to know?"

"Shut up! I ask the questions." he yelled, then slapped her across the face.

Lying on the floor, she looked pitiful and helpless. Her heart was screaming: "Michael! Help me!!" her hair was wild and was now covering her face.

"Just…stay away from him!"

"You tellin' me what to do?" he asked, then pulled her up by the hair.

"Listen, stay away from him. I'm warning you, or else he'll be going to your funeral!"

Her heart almost stopped with those words.

"Michael and I will be doing business together pretty soon! My kind of business."

He said, slamming the door behind him. Kyla was lying on the floor, confused, hurting, and angry.

"Oh Michael…" she said aloud, wiping the blood from the corner of her mouth.

She had to get to Michael; to warn him, to let him know he was in danger.

But how?

"Huh?" Michael jumped up.

'Michael, help me!' he heard his heart scream.



"Huh? Oh my God, she's in trouble. Rory! She's in trouble! We have to find her! We have to…"

"Mr. Jackson!" Rory interrupted, "We can't go anywhere! Wayne and Yannick told us to stay put until they get here!"

"No! We have to find her."

"Where, Michael? Huh? You don't even know where she is! Please…its better if we stay here and wait for Wayne and Yannick. They could probably help you more than I could anyway."

His reasoning was correct. Michael was being torn apart inside, almost to the point of tears.

"Ok!" he grudgingly conceded.

"Why don't you get some rest, MJ."

"I can't rest knowing she's being hurt. Don't you understand?"

"Please Mike,"

"Okay, alright."

He walked to the bedroom, laid down fully clothed, and closed his eyes. He fell asleep the minute his head hit the pillow.

What was he going to do?

That night, his dream was filled with images of her --her fragrance, her laugh, her legs, her walk, her wildly cocky, self-confident attitude. How could someone change his life in only 4 days!?

In the dream…….

"Michael, you're so silly!" Kyla laughed as she ran around the room chasing Michael.

"Stop it! Don't run!" she giggled.

Michael laughed because she couldn't catch him.

"Michael…" she said breathless, "I love you!"

He ran up to her and kissed her forehead: "I love you too, my queen!"

Then, they embraced each other. She'd reached up and touched his cheek.

"Michael! Michael! Wake up!" a voice at the door yelled.

"Are you okay?" another voiced called."

"Huh? What? Kyla?" Michael said groggy from sleeping. It was about 5:00 p.m.. Wayne and Yannick made it to the hotel and Michael opened the bedroom door.

"Mike you look like hell," Wayne said.

"Thanks," Michael said sarcastically, "I feel like it, too."

"Why did you run away? We were worried sick that you had been kidnapped or worse."

"No, no. listen. I'm gonna shower, then I'll fill you in."

"Ok, Mike."

As Michael was pulling off his clothes, he noticed the huge bulge that was so familiar to him in the morning..

"Sorry to disappoint you, but this is not the time, fella," he said aloud, talking to his manhood.

He stripped, and got into the shower. Then suddenly, he began to cry silently so the others wouldn't hear him.

He cried for Kyla; for their relationship. He cried because he couldn't help her; because he couldn't find her. His personal life was a mess, and it didn't look like it would get any better.

Still crying, he slouched down slowly in the shower until he was sitting on the pristine shower floor, crying like a lost little child.

Michael opened the door to the bedroom, after about half an hour.

"I'm ready," he called to Wayne and Yannick.

They just stared at him, with sad looks on their faces.

"Rory filled us in…We're sorry Mike," Yannick said.

Michael stared at the floor.

"So? What do you want us to do?"

Michael's eyes shot up to look at Yannick.

"I want you to find her! She needs me…and I need her."

"Sure thing, Michael."

"I love her," he said quietly.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Yannick called out.

"Let's go! Michael, just give us all the information you know about her and we'll talk to our connections and see what they come up with."

"Ok. Her name is Kyla Stevenson. She's about 5'7, thin, very beautiful, big brown eyes, a wonderful smile…"

"No, Mike," Wayne cut in, "Where does she work? Her home phone number? Address?"

"Oh," Michael said embarrassed.

"She lives at 527 Cloverlane Dr. She works at Stewart/Hoffield Management and Advertising Agency. They have offices in New York, Atlanta, LA , San Francisco, and some overseas."

"OK. That should be enough to start with. Hey, Mike, any special characteristics about her? Where does she like to hang out? What's the name of the hotel she was staying in?"

"The Bellmount. I don't know where she likes to hang out."

"OK. Thanks. Don't worry. If she's on this earth, we'll find her."

"Sure. Please hurry. She may be in trouble."

"What kind of trouble?"

"I'll explain that part to you later. There's no time now. Go. Hurry!"

"Right away, Mike," Yannick left.

They took turns guarding Michael while the other one searched for information.

"I have to check in with Daniel an see what's happening in the media."

"Ok, Mike," Wayne said.

Michael picked up the phone and dialed.

"Hello? Dan?"

"Hay Mikey! Where are you? I haven't heard from you in 2 weeks."

"I know. I've been a little busy. I'm sorry. How is the P.R. going?"

"Just fine. Fine. The world is ready for you now. The concert is going to be great!"

"I told you I don't wanna do the concert."

"Aww. Mike! Why not! It would be great for the Heal the World Charity. It could bring in millions for research. Think about it some more, huh."

"No! My decision is final. I can't focus on a concert right now. I need rest! I don't want to do some half-assed show! What will my fans think? I'm not prepared, Daniel."

"Come on Mike."

"No! Please! I'm just calling to tell you that I may not be in contact with you for a while. I have some personal business to take care of." He was becoming upset again.

"What kind of business?"

"Personal," he shot at Dan.

With that, Michael hung up the phone. As much as he liked Daniel, he didn't want to feel any pressure right now. He didn't completely trust Daniel Wyatt either. For some nagging reason, Michael couldn't shake the feeling that he was hiding something.

Kyla got up from her nap. The corner of her mouth was red and swollen, and her eyes were puffy from crying.

She went to the bathroom to clean herself up.

As she looked in the mirror, she saw some pathetic, wretched creature staring back at her; someone she didn't like. She didn't like her life anymore. She missed the way it was. She could go where she wanted; do what she wanted; feel what she wanted.

She said aloud: "I can't bring Michael into all this crap! He'll resent me for the rest of his life! But I'll have to warn him. I got to ! Peter is planning something and Michael's in danger!"

She thought to herself: "Maybe I can write him a letter? Maybe I could send him a telegram! Damn, why didn't I get his number?!"

She got in the bathtub and cried a long sorrowful cry. What she didn't know was that Michael was crying for her too.

After she got out of the bathtub, she picked up the phone and asked room service to send her some eggs, toast, coffee and milk.

"Oh, Michael! Michael! Michael! Where are you?"

After breakfast, she turned on the television.:

"And Flip, looks like the weather will continue to be hot and steamy!"

"Looks that way Kathy."

"Ok. In Entertainment news, 5,000 people have gathered outside the Hyatt hotel in Atlanta for glimpse of pop icon Michael Jackson."

"The singer is in Atlanta for unknown reasons. His spokesman, Daniel Wyatt, said today that Jackson is there taking care of 'personal business.'"

Her heart leapt for joy.

"Uh! He's in Atlanta! What's he doing in Atlanta? I have to go to him."

As quick as a flash, she grabbed her things and headed to the airport.

"One ticket to Atlanta, please."

"Sure, Ms. Stevenson," the desk clerk remembered her face.

"She grabbed the tickets and waited in line to have her carry on checked.

"Oh, excuse me madam, "someone said after accidentally bumping into Kyla from behind.

"Oh that's ok,"she said while turning around and seeing the snooty hostess from the restaurant.

"Oh, It's just you, "the hostess replied, "I thought it was somebody important."

"Didn't I tell you to stay out of my fuckin' way?"

"No need to get vulgar. Oh, I would expect that coming from you. I see you had a little disagreement with someone. One of your johns I suppose," she said, in her irritating voice.

"Look, lady, you get the hell away from me or else security is gonna have to pull me off yo' snooty, over-tanned, bleached blonde, silicone-having, old monkey ass!"

"Well!" the hostess said, grabbed her bags, and walked away.

"Hurry up!" she said under her breath, turning around to get back in line.

Finally she was through the gate and walking out to the plane.

Once on the plane, she breathed in and out to keep herself clam. She had to think of some way to get in the hotel to see Michael.

"They may think I'm just another fanatical fan!" she thought.

I can't say that I'm his girlfriend. That line has probably been used 10,000 times by now. I can say that I'm one of his lawyers!" she thought.

As she set out on her mission, she hadn't realized she picked up a tick: one of Peter's hired thugs He was following her; seated 2 rows back.

The tick picked up his phone: "Yeah boss. We're on a plane to Atlanta, now…I won't lose her…I'm very smart, too…She won't get away…I don't know where she'd going, maybe home…ok boss." He hung up the phone.

This wasn't going to be easy. As Kyla sat on the plane, she realized that all her life she had loved this man. Now she may be responsible for hurting him.

"He'll just despise me," she thought.

She closed her eyes and fell asleep; dreaming of Michael:


"Come here Michael!"

"Nope! You're gonna have to catch me!"

"Michael, please?"

"Nope, nope, nope!" he laughed.

"Ok…ok…you win!"

"Yay!" he said, walking over to her.

"I love you Michael!" she said.

And he embraced her, picked her up and gently laid her down on the bed.

"Michael…" she said in between kisses.


He slowly began to undress her; taking her blouse off and then her bra.

"Michael…" she moaned as he began kissing her breasts. Her nipples began rising with excitement; her body readying itself for Michael's entrance.

He slowly began to make his way down her gold lace panties, taking them off with a little help from her.

"Oh!" she said as Michael began to kiss her womanhood; his tongue exploring every inch of it; working her into a frenzy.

After she came, Michael pushed himself up on top of her "I love you!" he said in a frenzied breath.

"I love you sweetie pie," she said giggling.

He smiled, and they made deep, achingly slow, passionate love to each other.

"I'll never let anything hurt you, Kyla," she heard him whisper in her ear.

If only that were true!

With Kyla awake and her dream over, the tick called in to tell his boss that they were ten minutes away from landing.

"Yeah, boss…10 minutes. Huh? Ok…the plans all set…yeah…sure, I got it….I got it…check in with you later."

Kyla sat in her seat feeling like she would scream! She felt uncomfortable, claustrophobic, pissed off, and terrified all at the same time. She wanted to jump for joy and burst into tears. She wanted to stay away from Michael and she wanted to hold him in her arms.

These inner conflicts were taking their toll on her sanity.

She kept trying to convince herself that she would only cause Michael pain. She doesn't realize how deep his love is for her. And all this in less than a week's time!

As she stepped off the plane, she nearly tripped going down the steps. She left her carry-on on the plane and had to go back and get it. That old luck again!

"Am I losing my mind?!" she said aloud.

She finally got a phone and called to check her messages.

"Why didn't I give him my home phone number?" she thought.

So, she caught a taxi and headed for the Hyatt Hotel.

The crowd outside the hotel was making it very difficult for traffic. The driver couldn't even get down the street where the hotel was located. So, she paid him, jumped out, and began navigating through the hysterical crowd of fans.

By some God-sent miracle, she discovered a secret side entrance into the hotel. She quickly ducked in, making sure no one saw her.

"Damn!!" the tick said aloud, "Damn! Damn! Damn! I lost her!"

He picked up the phone and called Peter.

"I lost her…I'm sorry…I know…but there's like 10 million girls out here…I know…she blended into the crowd…ok…ok…you can't do that…are you threatening me?…alright.. ok I'll find her."

With that, he hung up the phone. He ran through the crowd searching in vain.

"Shit!" he said, defeated.

Kyla made it to an elevator. At first, she had no idea what floor he was on. It was a good thing, however, that she remembered that most times he always stayed on the top floor of any hotel just incase he had to be airlifted out incase of an emergency.

So up to the 32nd floor she went.

Once the doors of the elevator opened, the hotel security lunged toward her, grabbing her and patted her down for weapons of any kind.

"Hay! What the hell are you doing?!"

"Just checking to make sure you're not armed Ms."

"I'm not! I'm Michael's attorney. I have some very important business to discuss with him."

"Looks like you got caught up in the frenzy outside," the other security man said, noticing the black bruise on the side of her mouth.

"Oh,'s crazy out there." she replied.

She didn't look crazy and her demeanor didn't seem suspicious, so they let her pass.

"Thank you!" she said, straightening her collar and running a hand through her hair.

As she walked to Michael's door, she prepared herself to talk to him:

"I'm not gonna look him in the eyes. His eyes are deadly. I will not hug him. I'd melt in his arms. I won't even touch him."

When she knocked on the door, Wayne answered.

"Excuse me sir, I would like to talk to Michael."

"Yeah, and so would the rest of the world. How did you get up here anyway?"

"I'm Kyla Stevenson. Just tell him I need to speak to him, please.

"You're…..hey Mike! She's here!"

He grabbed her and pulled her into the hotel room.

Michael came running out of the bedroom. His hair looked as if he'd been wrestling. He was wearing a plain white T-shirt and black slacks.

When he saw her, his jaws dropped, and with his arms out-stretched he yelled: "Kyla!"

He ran over to hug her; grabbing her, putting his arms around her, and kissing the top of her head.

"Where have you been?! I've been looking everywhere for you! Why did you run away?"

She'd broken one of her rules. And, like she predicted, she melted in his arms. She closed her eyes and began to weep silently.

"Its ok.. Its ok. What happened to your mouth?!"

"Peter. He came into my hotel room and…"

"That bastard! I wasn't there to protect you! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry sweetie."

"Michael, I came to warn you. Peter's going to try to do something to you. I don't know what, but please watch out. He said something about 'doing business' with you. His business is not the honest kind! I'm afraid that he'll hurt you, Michael."

"Hurt me? Why? I don't even know him."

"You're a big target Michael. But this man is no ordinary, run-of-the-mill extortionist. He'll try to ruin your reputation for life, I know he will."

"Shhh…I'm just so glad to have you back in my arms, ummmm."

His long arms and warm body made Kyla feel safe again.

"Michael, listen to me! You have to be careful. He may have someone around you working for him. He's just that meticulous and dirty!"

"You're really upset about this, aren't you," he was getting very concerned.

"Yes! Please, just listen to me. Please?"

"Ok. But what now?"

"Let's go back to the hideout," she said.

"I have other hideouts you know…" he said with a slick smile.

"Oh? Where?"

"Jamaica. Sweden. Switzerland. London. Las Vegas…"

"Let's just go somewhere where we can be alone," she cut in.

"Ok. I like Switzerland. It's so incredibly quiet there. We can have some peace."

"There won't be any peach for me. I've been wrestling with myself: should I be with you? Am I good enough for you? I don't know the answers to those questions. All I know is that I love you."

"That's the most beautiful thing you probably could ever say to me…except maybe 'Michael, you're going to be a father'"

"Michael!" she pulled away from his embrace, "I told you that isn't possible or my father will to jail!" she said with an extremely serious tone.

"Please, Kyla! He won't go to jail if we figure away out of this. I promised to help you and I will."

"You can help me by taking me away from all this crap!"

"I will."

Michael told Wayne to get the jet ready for Switzerland. Wayne complied while picking up his telephone to call Yannick and tell him what was going on.

"It'll just be you and me…"

"I just need someone to hold me, you know. I feel all confused about everything. It wasn't supposed to be like this, you know. I was supposed to be the first black woman to become the owner, CEO, and CFO of a major Fortune 500 company. I was supposed to be the richest woman in the world. Now, my life is a pile of ashes…a pile of crap!"

After her confession, she broke down into tears for the "umpteenth" time.

"Michael? Just tell me it'll be ok!" she sobbed.

"It will, sweetheart. I promise."

"But what if it isn't? What if everything sucks!?"

"It won't suck," he said with a slight chuckle, "I'm not gonna let it."

His relieved tone was making her more comfortable.

Then he kissed her--a kiss that lasted for what felt like an hour; slowly, deeply, passionately, they embraced. Holding each other. Afraid for each other; loving each other completely and without fault.

Now, how are they going to get out of this mess?

They were on the plane heading for Michael's quaint little hideaway.

"Michael? You awake?"

"Uh huh," he said, groggy.

"No you're not!" she laughed.

He just smiled and nodded his head without opening his eyes.

"How much further?" she asked.

"About an hour now," he said opening his sleepy eyes and glancing at his watch.


"What's wrong?" he asked, sitting up and staring into her eyes.


"Yes it is. I know that 'nothing' routine. You say 'nothing', then end up spilling your guts. You can't carry the weight of the whole world on your shoulders. That's some advice my mother gave to me when I was very young."

"That's very good advice."

"So, are you going to follow it?" he said, with raised eyebrows.

"How are we going to get out of this crap! He has my hands tied!"

"What does your father think about this?"

"He doesn't. He seems to have some stupid reasoning that if he just ignores it, it'll go away. To this day, he doesn't know about the stipulation that I be a virgin. He's convinced himself that I must have truly fallen in love with Peter. Michael, he's a very proud man. I love him for it, but sometimes, that pride can lead to disaster."

"Yeah, I know what you mean...I love hearing the sound of your voice. It does something to me. It inspires me," he said, changing the subject.

"To do what? To write songs?" she asked.

"I've been writing songs about you my whole life. 'Love is a feeling….give it when I want it…cause I'm on fire…quench my desire'……'So listen to my heart…lay your body close to mine…let me touch you with my love……"

"Touch me with your what, Michael?" she giggled.

"Love!" he laughed out loud.

"Michael!" she laughed out loud.

"What?" he asked with a cute little boy look on his face.

"Very beautiful lyrics."

"Well, that's the way you make me feel"

"'The way you make me feel…you really turn me young….you knock me off of my feet….my lonely days are gone….'"

"Ha!" Michael laughed. "You forgot that one!" she said giggling.

"Very nice! You have a beautiful singing voice...You ever thought about singing professionally?"

"Nope. Too much hassle. I don't think I want my life put under a microscope. Then the whole world would know how crappy it is."

"You like that word don' t you?"

"What word?"


"You'd prefer I say shitty?" she said with a chuckle.

"Oh no…crappy is fine," he laughed.

They were on their way to paradise.

"In entertainment news, singer Michael Jackson is being sued yet again for child molestation. The parents of a young boy claims that the singer molested their 9 year old son over a period of 2 months. The civil suit was filed earlier today. The parents said that their child is heartbroken and confused. We'll have more news after this…"

The plan was taking effect.

"What! I don't believe this!" shouted Elizabeth.

"This is not possible! They're trying to do it again! They've got different people, but they're trying to ruin him again!"

With that, she walked over to the phone and tried to call Michael.

No answer.

She dialed again.

No answer.

"Michael, where are you?"

"Finally!" Kyla shouted, "This place is beautiful!"

They'd made it to his other home.

"Yeah. It's very relaxing. I come here as often as I can."

"Wow! Look at the huge trees. Michael!" she was excited like a child.

"I know! I've seen trees before!" he joked.

"Wow! Look at that! Ooo, Michael! Ooo, look at that bird! What kind of bird is that!?"

"I'm not sure, but its very beautiful."

"Ooo, Michael, look at the sky! No smog! Oh my goodness! It's breathtaking!"

"It sure is!" he said, while staring at her.

"You're not even looking!"

"Yes I am!" he replied.

She jumped up and down, so incredibly excited. She had momentarily forgotten about all her troubles.

Being with Michael was good for her sanity. She didn't feel like she had to prove herself to him. She didn't feel angry or hurt. And for a short while, she didn't even feel scared.

"Come on. The cabin's this way."

As they walked, they talked about the beautiful scenery and why he decided to buy a house here.

"I wished we would have gone to Jamaica, man."

Michael laughed at her pitiful impression: "We can still go, right now if you want."

"No. We've come so far already. I wanna enjoy this place too! I like to travel or at least I use to…"

"What happened?"

"Peter Morresey happened. "

They walked in silence until they'd reached the house.

"Oh my god! Michael! It's like a freaking shopping center huge! This is a hideaway?!"

"yeah," he said shyly.

"Only the best for Michael Jackson, huh?"

"When you said 'cabin' I thought of a tiny one…maybe 5 room thingy. This is astonishing!"

Michael just watched her. He gained strength from her excitement.

She reminded him of a little baby that became excited from discovering she had hand, that's how incredible she looked.

Michael just beamed with love and adoration.

"Life can't get any better!" he thought.

Everything was in an uproar. People where talking about it. Asking: Where's Michael? What were his comments? Did he even know about what was going on?

Once Wayne and Yannick got back to the states, they heard the awful news.

"What the hell!" Wayne shouted.

And they listened to the evening news and CNN for details. And then they saw the worst:

"So , Mr. Wyatt, are you saying that you knew that Mr. Jackson was molesting kids?" one reporter shouted.

"Yes I did. It hurts me to say this. I couldn't stop him. I tried to talk him into getting help"

"What! That bastard!" Yannick yelled at the television.

"We gotta get to Michael!" Wayne said.

They jumped on the plane and headed for Switzerland.

"I wonder how the Switzerland people entertain themselves?" Kyla asked.

"They're not that different from us…well…yes they are!" he laughed.

"I wanna see what kind of TV programs they have."

"Go right ahead," he couldn't stop staring at her.

She flipped on the television and there was footage of Michael along with foreign narration.

"Michael! You're on television."

'I wonder what for," he said, coming closer to the television.

They began showing the press conference that Daniel Wyatt was giving. The narration was jut low enough so that Michael could hear what he was saying.

"What!" he jumped up in rage.

"That's Daniel!"

"What?! Is he insane?! That….that…oooo…wait 'til I get my hands on him!"

Michael was furious!

"That lying asshole! I knew I couldn't trust him! I knew it!" Michael shouted, "Kyla, we have to get back. I'm sorry."

"Its ok…you handle your business…I'll be right beside you." She replied.

"I will!"

"I can't believe Daniel would betray you like that! I….Oh no…oh no! This…you don't think this has something to do with Peter?"

"Peter? Way?"

"I bet this is what he's been planning! He's gonna try to get you to settle the case for some huge amount of money! That way, he's financially set for life"

Michael's head hurt. They'd tried once before. He didn't think he could go through that again.

"I'm so tired of this…so tired…" he was on the verge of crying, his rage turning into sadness.

"Michael come on…let's go!"

They ran back to the car that drove them to the house and drove to the airstrip to wait for Wayne and Yannick with the jet.

With that, Michael and Kyla was off to the states.

Michael was mad as hell and wasn't gong to let people run over him anymore!

As Michael was getting off his private jet at LAX, the swarm of media had already settled in.

"Mr. Jackson, did you do it?" one voice yelled.

"Michael, are you a child molester?" another said.

"Michael who's that?" another called.

"Mr. Jackson, why aren't you answering our questions?"

"Will you settle out of court?" yelled another.

"What do you think of Daniel Wyatt's comments?" another said.

With that question, Michael shot a look at the reporter that made him freeze in his place.

"Daniel Wyatt is a lying, scheming son of a bitch!"

At Michael's comment, the reporters yelled, screamed, and reached for their cell-phones.

"That a boy, Michael!" one yelled.

"You tell 'em Mike!" another said.

Apparently, he'd made some friends since the last time.

The questions continued until he finally reached the van.

"Uh!" Michael growled.

"That was wonderful how you handled them, Michael," Kyla said.

Michael was brooding with anger. He didn't even pay much attention to Kyla's comment.

"I am not going through that hell again without getting my say so in."

"I understand. Did you see their faces when you called Daniel a son of a bitch! They went wild!"

"Yeah, well, it wasn't like I was lying."

"You weren't."

"I just hope my mother isn't angry that I cursed someone you on nationwide television. She always taught me to contain my anger and work through it."

"She'll 'forgive' you. Michael! I think she would have been really proud of you."

"Hello?" Wayne said.

"Let me speak to Michael."

"Mr. Jackson is unavailable at this time. Who's calling."

"This is his worst nightmare…"

Just then, Wayne motioned to John, one of Michael's other security men, to begin recording the conversation.

"His worst nightmare?"


"What do you want?"

"They want 650 million over 3 years."

"650? For what?"

"Because your boss is a child molester."

"No he isn't and both of us know that. Who are you?"

"Don't you worry about who I am. I'm prepared to take a settlement of 350 million to be paid out over 5 years."

"What makes you think he'll settle?"

"History. Hum, pardon the pun. He'll settle because he doesn't want the media to know all the lurid details of how he raped a 9 year old boy…"

"Listen you piece of shit! Keep your fucking threats to yourself."

"Oh, don't be so rude," he mocked, "I'll give him some time to think about it before I go public."

"Hey, you…"

Dial tone.

"Got it!" John said.

Just then, Michael and Kyla burst through the door.

"Mike, man, they're trying to do it again. The lawyer, Gary…Larry… Feldman or Felder or something is holding a press conference tomorrow," Wayne said.

Michael just exhaled in sorrow.

"Why me? What did I do? I don't understand."

"Michael, sweetie, some people are just assholes!"

Just then, John turned on the television and Notabz was being interviewed along with other Michael supporters.

"Michael is innocent! We, his fans, are sick and tired of underhanded, low, dirty, back-stabbing, money-hungry people trying to take advantage of him! We won't stand for it any longer!" she spoke eloquently.

"It just pisses me off! He's done nothing! Nothing! Nothing to deserve this! These allegations are false!" said Candygirl.

"This is just another attempt to get money from him," said Notabz.

"I'm happy they support me. Who were they? Someone get their names so I can thank them in person." Michael said.

"See? Your fans are the most loyal fans I've ever known. They believe in your innocence. It's that damn Peter they should be talking about all over the news. And Daniel." Kyla said.

Michael's head was clear, focused, and ready. He had been through this kind of battle before. Only this time, he wasn't doped up, he didn't have advisors telling him to do the wrong things, and he didn't have a bunch of snakes standing around him, waiting to betray him.

"They want to fight? They'll get a fight!" Michael said.

That night, they planned their strategy. They already had the somewhat incriminating tape recording of someone asking for 650 million dollars. Next, they would try to find out who these people were, their backgrounds, and their motives.

Michael didn't care about their feelings. He didn't care about what people would think if he spoke his mind. The only thing he cared about was that 9 year old boy with whom he had spent 2 hours with, along with 29 other kids that came to visit his ranch in Neverland.

"I just hope they aren't poisoning his mind…" Michael said in disgust.

"The only people in the world whose opinion I care about are the children, my family and my fans."

"Mike, you should get some sleep. It's only 9 PM, and you've been up for almost a day straight." Kyla said.

She was worried about Michael. She hated seeing him upset. She began to wonder if she had anything to do with this. Were they hurting Michael because of her? Then, she thought about how orchestrated it all was.

She thought: "They had to have been planning this for months….years even. It's just too well planned."

Michael finally agreed that he should get some rest. He closed his eyes and was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Then, the phone rang.

"Hello" Wayne said.

"Hello, Wayne. Let me speak to Michael, will you."

"I'm sorry Mr. Taylor, he just dozed off. He'd been up for almost a day straight. Do you want me to wake him up for you?"

"Oh no! Don't! Let him sleep, but please tell him to give me a call as soon as possible. Thanks."

"Sure thing."

He hung up the phone.

Why was this happening to her? She'd found her love of a lifetime and all this crap was swirling around the both of them.

That night, she couldn't sleep. Michael was tossing and turning; rolling from one side of the bed to the other. She'd felt so terrible for him.

"He doesn't deserve this, God! Are you listening to me? He follows your teachings. He studies your methods. He loves you with all his heart. Please, if you will. Bless him and lead him to victory. Amen." She said aloud.

With that, she tried to get some sleep.

The next morning at around 9:30 am Wayne rushed into the bedroom.

Kyla was sleeping on the love seat in Michael's room.

"Mike! Wake up! Mike!"

"Huh? What's wrong," he jumped.

"The Chandler kid is holding a press conference! Wake up!"

"What? Why?"

"Don't know. Come see."

Jordan Chandler, the son of the man that launched a million speculations, was holding a press conference.

Jordan's words:"

"I was very upset when I heard the news of Michael being accused of molestation. I am very worried right now. I am worried because I am afraid that the same people that brain-washed me, are brain-washing that little boy. I was not sexually assaulted, molested, or funded by Michael Jackson. My father made me take some kind of drug that planted false memories into my head. With the help of wonderful therapists, I was able to know the truth. I remember my father threatening to beat me to death if I ever told. To a 13 year old kid, that is frightening. I just wished I had the courage to come out against my father sooner. I am an adult now, and I don't have to live with the pressure of getting beaten to death by my father anymore. I would live to apologize to Mr. Jackson for putting him through unnecessary hell. I was a child and didn't know any better. Again, I would like to stress that Mr. Jackson did not sexually assault, abuse, or molest me in any way shape or form. And I would like to ask the media and the public to look into this new crop of allegations. The same people that were involved with my situation, are involved in these new allegations behind the scenes. It happened to me. It is likely that it is happening now. Please, don't let it happen to anyone else. Thank you."

The conference was over…no questions were taken.

Michael just broke down into tears of joy.

"I knew one day the truth would come out," he said, still crying, "I just didn't think it wold be anytime soon."

"Shh…" Kyla comforted him.

She looked to the sky, winked and mouthed the words "Thank you" to God.

"Every cloud has a silver lining," she said to Michael.

Her love was making him stronger by the minute. She was his rock. His anchor. She was his reason for wanting to go on.

"You know what Kyla?"


"I thanked God last night in my dream. I thanked him for sending you to me. I thanked him for letting me find my one true love. Thank you for loving me. Don't ever stop."

"I just can't stop loving you….," she began to sing softly, "I just can't stop loving you….and if I stop…..then tell me just what will I do…..I'll never stop loving you…" she changed the last line.

Then she kissed him on the nose.

As she sang those lyrics, he started to smile.

They stayed that way for a long time. Holding each other. With each other's love, they could conquer the world!

The next morning, Michael woke up at around 5:30 a.m. He wanted to watch the sun rise.

He stood there staring out of the window thinking about his life. All the heart-ship, the heartache, the lies, the deceit. Then he looked over his shoulder at Kyla. He'd given her the bed this time. She represented, to him, all the love that exists in the universe. That's why he couldn't let this happen to her. He had to find some way of protecting her. He remembers not being able to protect his mother. This was eating him up inside. Maybe that was the reason he felt like protecting those who couldn't or can't protect themselves. Kyla has a lot of his mother's characteristics. But in some ways, she was completely opposite.

He turned back to the window just in time to see the sun rising.

"Beautiful," he said aloud.

"Ummmm, Michael?" Kyla was awake.

"Yeah?" he turned to her.

"How're you feeling?"

"Um…I'm ok."

"Good. I slept like a baby! This bed is so comfortable."

"I'm glad."

"What are you doing up so early?"

"Just watching the sun rise…and thinkin' 'bout you."

They smiled at each other.

"I've been thinking…is there anything, that you can prove, that was done illegal by Peter or his associates?" he asked.

"Um…nothing that I can prove."

"Did they ever hurt you in anyway that would cause him to be thrown in jail?" he was grasping at straws.

"Besides assault, no… and even then, he could arrange all this from prison."

"I know those are lousy ideas, but I'm just brainstorming."

"I know. At least you've come up with that. I couldn't even get that far."

"Maybe we can get one of his people to turn on him…spill the operation?"


"Maybe we can infiltrate his organization and record criminal activity." His plans were getting more complex.

"Yeah! Oh wait! It won't be admissible in court." She looked saddened.

"But the public will ear it up!" he said, with a sly grim on his face.

"Michael…you think you should do it?"

"It may be dangerous. I don't know."

"John is one of the best in the business."

"You sure he isn't working for Peter?"

"I'm not sure, but I'm pretty sure. Normally, I get these vibes about people. I use to ignore them because I didn't want to upset people or be mean. But I don't get any negative vibes from him."

"Well, what were you guys able to come up with last night?"

"Pretty much what I just said. I just wanted to make sure there was no other way."

"Michael, will we ever get out of this?" she said looking down at her legs.

"I'm not sure, but I'm sure going to try."

"You seem to have someone on your side: Jordan Chandler."

"Yeah. I thought for sure his life would be wasted-his memory distorted forever. How could he put his own child through something like that?"

"I kind of figured something was wrong when he sued for emancipation." She said.

"Um…Well let's get to it! We have some rats to exterminate." he said.

"Yeah. Fat, nasty, smelly rats!" she said, smiling.

"With little beady, red eyes!" he said, making a silly face.



"Do you think I dragged you into my problems?" that question was eating away at her.

"No! Why would you say that!?"

"Because you seemed to be doing so good until you met me."

"My meeting you was the best thing of my life…marry me!"

"What!" she exclaimed.

"I know it's sudden. You can be my wide and we can have lots of little babies…I love you."

"Michael! If I marry you, then Peter goes to the police, my dad's company goes up in smoke…wait! Wait a minute! That's it! I don't freaking' believe it!"


"He has a vested interest in daddy's company. He would never allow it to go up in smoke. I think he may be bluffing. Oh, wait! My father will still go to jail. Shit! I thought I was on to something. Damn it!"

"Don't swear Kyla, stop cursing…" he said smiling.

"Oh, I forgot!" she laughed.

"Kyla? What's your answer" he said, turning to subject back to her.

"You know I can't!"

"no one will have to know. We'll go to Australia or somewhere. We'll keep it secret. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Please?"

"I…I don't know."

"You choosing your father over me. I don't see how I could have put you in that position. I apologize."


"No, no. I understand. I shouldn't have done that." He said, ashamed.

"No, its not that I don't want to. You're the sexiest, most precious, man I've ever known. It's just that the valley is too deep and wide to jump over. I can't be happy with you knowing that my father is in a maximum security penitentiary. And I can't be happy knowing that you need more that what I can offer you."

"Oh," he said quietly.

Awkward silence. Neither Michael nor Kyla knew what to say.

"I don't wanna lose you. I'll wait however long…" he cut in.

"I can't ask you to do that."

"Oh no. This is personal. They're screwing around with my reputation, my marketability, my income, my family's emotions. God I can only imagine what they're doing to my fans."


"I love the way you say my name…"


"Say it again!"

"Michael, I'm serious."

Just then, Wayne knocked on the door.

"Yo, Mike. Is everyone descent?" Yannick knocked on the door.


"The press are very skeptical right now," he entered, "They don't know. What to believe. I tell you that Chandler kid may have given you a little more time to work on a strategy before talking to the press."

"Um…Hey, do you know how he's doing?"

"I don't. But that kid, sorry…young man really came through when we needed him the most, I tell you."

"Yeah, he did, didn't he?"

"Good morning Ms. Stevenson." He said, turning to her."

"Please, call me Kyla."

"You sure you're boyfriend here wouldn't mind?" he joked.

Michael threw a pillow at him and they all laughed.

How long would it be before they laughed like that again?

Out of bed, Kyla stood her eyes gazing over at Michael. She could not believe she was in a bedroom with Michael Jackson. She wanted to scream like a lovesick teenager: "Ahh! Michael! I love you!" running to him, jumping on him, and kissing him all over.

Michael, noticing her staring out of the corner of his eye, looked at her with those huge brown eyes, a smile fixed on his face.

Him, noticing her staring made her turn away from him instantly. She didn't want to send him any mixed messages anymore, so she looked at the floor.

His smile disappeared and his face took on a look of concern.

"What's wrong?" he asked her, genuinely wanting to know.

"Oh, I just…nothing, really, "she stammered.

"Nothing?" he looked suspiciously at her, "What's wrong Kyla?"

"I was just…I'm sorry Michael"

"Sorry for what?"

"For everything! For not being able to love you the way you need to be loved," she began pouring out her heart, "For not being able to hold you next to me! For not thing able to kiss you without fear! For not being able to…to satisfy you without thinking of my daddy locked in some jail cell..! Uh! For not being able to take the time to caress you! You need more than someone who can only love you like…like…some lusting teenaged girl!" she gasped.

Now all her fears were in the open. She watched him anticipating that he would slap her to stop her hysterical rambling. As he walked over to her, she flinched:

"Why'd you jump? I'm not gonna hurt you?" he questioned.

"Its….I thought you were going to slap me out of my madness or something." She replied.

"What!? I'd never! Never Ever! You…oh my sweet angel!" his sorrow getting the better of him.

"I wish I could pull you into my heart and keep you there forever. Away from all the harm, both physical and mental. I wish my love was enough."

She sobbed quietly on his shoulder making tear stains upon his dark green button down shirt.

"…but I can't," he continued, "I can't do those things. And if I did, you'd be like prisoner…you wouldn't be able to experience life for yourself…to go off alone and explore…I'd be you're….jailer."

"My jailer!" she looked at him through tear soaked lashes.

"Um hum." He said quietly.

"Not my jailer…my protector. I used to be strong Michael! I did! I use to do what I wanted, be the kind of person I wanted. It's a shame you have to see this nut case! You would have loved her! She was strong willed, independent…" her words trailed off into thin air.

"What?" he asked.

"I…I…" she thought about the consequences of her next words:

"If I say this, it'll break his heart! I can't put him through that! Not anymore!"

"Go on." Michael urged.

"Nothing." She replied.

"I'm tired of NOTHING! I want SOMETHING! Am I grasping at straws in this relationship?!" his eyes wide with love and confusion.

"No! I love you, Michael Jackson! I'm out-of-my-mind, butt-crazy in love with you! There!" she said turning her eyes from his gaze.

"Did you mean that?" he asked suspiciously, his eyebrows raised.

"Yes," she said quietly.

"I love you more than life itself. I love you more than I love breathing…"he said quietly.

As he was talking, she surprisingly was walking over to him, feeling his words deep down to her soul.

Before he could finish, she was kissing him gently on his lips. She was hurting way deep inside and he was the only one that could cure her. She use to think that her conscious choice to save herself for marriage was good. But she didn't factor in the fact that she may fall in love before a feasible marriage prospect was in view. Her deep ache translated into drenching wetness and utter abandonment of all the fear in her heart. She wanted him and damn it she wasn't going to have him!

Still kissing, she jumped up wrapping her legs around his waist. He put his right-hand behind his back and under her leg to provide support for her. He walked her over to the bed and gently laid her down on her back , while laying on top of her. He wanted to taste her; to feel her salty sweetness on his tongue. He could wait no longer. He needed to be inside her; feeling her. It was like a necessity to him; like air, like water, like music!

His many fears about making love just flew out the window as his body knew exactly what it wanted to do. They had reckless disregard for the people in the next room waiting for them!

Just as Michael was lifting to take off his shirt, there was a knock on the door, jarring them back into reality.

"Oh! Oh no! I forgot!" he jumped up.

"Yeah…uh…I uh…" she let out a nervous breath.

They both jumped up, fixed their clothes, and Michael ran to the door.

"What's up Wayne?" he said, his hair in disarray as usual.

"Mike not they want 450 million," he said just low enough so Kyla couldn't hear.

"What! Even Chandler only wanted 60 and he only got 4!" then remembering Kyla, turned to her to see if she'd become too worried.

She just stood there in her own little world:

"Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Fool! I was about to blow it all! God! I never loose control like that! "

She was trying to understand why she was going through this. Her prayer to God was unanswered. She still didn't know why. She felt like a wild dog trapped: nervous, jittery, and trying desperately to find a way out!

Wayne and Michael were still talking quietly at the door. As soon as she'd come back to reality, Wayne left and Michael closed the door.

"What's going on?" she asked.

Michael folded his arms, then took his left hand and placed his index finger on his bottom lip.

"Michael…" she began to get scared again.

"now, he wants 450 million dollars." He said finally.


"Of course, he wanted it as part of a settlement. That way it wouldn't seem like extortion. They promised to disappear after they received the money"

"What're you gonna do?"

"I'm gong to FIGHT!" his mood changed as he looked at the pitiful creature staring wide-eyed at him. She was the epitome of grace and gentility mixed with force, confidence, and independence.

"I love you…" he said, unfolding his arms and dropping them to his sides.

"I love you more." She said in a half mocking way.

She ran over to him to put her arms around him. She would give up her soul for him. But first, she had to talk to her father.

She went over to the telephone and dialed. After 3 rings, her father answered.

"Hello? Daddy?" she said.

"Hey Baby girl? Where are you? We've been worried."

"I uh, I can't tell you…just know that I'm safe and ok. How do you feel about all this mess with Peter and Daniel? Really daddy?"

"I hate them both! I want to see each of them rotting in hell!"

"But daddy! What about you? If Peter goes to the police…"

He cut her off: "Oh you don't know!? The statute of limitations! Even If I was guilty, they couldn't convict me!" he said.

Her heart leapt and she dropped the receiver from her ear. Michael hurried over to her to make sure she was ok.

"I'm ok…I'm ok…" she said, picking back up the receiver.

"Say what!?" she said.

"Yes, Sweetheart! Say something!"

"You mean, I been going through this mental sh….crap for nothing! Oh that's the best thing I ever heard in my life!" she began to cry AGAIN!

With Michael's arms around her, she collapsed again . This emotional roller-coaster sucked!

They stood there quietly. Then she began to explain to Michael about the statue of limitations and how they'd completely overlooked that.

This was wonderful news, but Michael's reputation was still in the hot seat.

"Now, we can be together!" he shouted while picking her up and twirling her in the air.

Then he kissed her; deep and passionately.

They were glowing with excitement as they rocked back and forth in one another's embrace.

And, just like that, in a matter of seconds, one battle was over. She could be his one and only without guilt.

Battle number 2 was not going to be that simple!

Holding her in his arms felt like heaven to him. She could be his; now and forever. All the joy in the universe filled his heart and he glowed all over. His heart overflowing with her essence. He needed her. He'd never needed anyone in his life before, the way he needed this woman.

Her sensuality, her tone, her style and grace are all the qualities he had admired in a woman. The combination of her sexuality and vitality turned him on. This longing, much more than simple lust, flooded his mind. He needed to be with her. His soul was calling out to her. Could she hear it?

Kyla was amazed and shocked at the same time. She couldn't believe how wonderful she felt. She also couldn't believe how incredibly stupid daddy's lawyers were to overlook something like the statute of limitations in the first place!

She forced her mind back on Michael. This gorgeous human being had possession of her soul, her, mind, and he body. He could make her heart skip a beat with the lift of his pinkie finger! All he had to do was smile and she felt like fainting. Oh, yeah, and not to mention the fact that he is MICHAEL JACKSON!

At that instant, it his her: "This is Michael Jackson! Michael freaking Jackson! Holy Shit!" she said to herself.

"Kyla?" Michael whispered softly to her.


Michael looked at her and smiled that o-so-familiar smile she'd loved since she was a little girl.

"Where do we go from here?" he asked, a little afraid to make the first move for some crazy reason.

"Don't know…" she replied, wondering why his tone had changed.

She thought: "Oh no, Michael Jackson! Don't you start getting scared on me now!"

"I mean…I'll ask this again, now that the situation is a little different. Will you be my wife?" he was scared to death of her answer.

She took a deep breath, swallowed hard, and looked up in to those bright , big, beautiful brown eyes and just as she began to speak, Wayne burst through the door.

"Michael! We have to leave! Now!" he was out of breath.

"What? Why? What's going on?" he asked.

"Just come on! No time! I'll explain later!" he shouted, running towards Michael and Kyla, hurrying them out of the room through the living room, and out the door.

"What?" Kyla was trying to get some understanding from all the confusion.

People were talking and running down the hallway. He had a small group of people with him: business people, lawyers, friends, and security people who'd all been staying on the same floor.

"Wayne?" Michael yelled so Wayne could hear him above the noise.

"What Mike?"

"What's going on?" he asked as Wayne was rushing them down the hallway.

"The fans! They've broken through security! They broke windows just to get in here and see you! They're stampeding through the hotel looking for you! They…." He began to get hoarse, "….crushed a young fan! She's being taken to the hospital! Its madness!"

Michael's heart sank at the thought of someone being hurt trying to see him. He adored and cherished his fans, but they could scare the hell out of him sometimes. He felt as if it was his fault in some way, that this girl was hurt because of him.

Kyla picked up on his feeling without him having to say a word:

"Its not your fault, Michael," she said, yelling so he could hear her, "You didn't do anything wrong!"

He just looked over at her and thought to himself:

"How did she know my thoughts?"

She continued: "I felt your heart calling out to me. Asking me for comfort," she explained, "Is that totally insane!"

Michael stopped to gaze at her with his mouth half open.

"Come on Michael! Walk up! Gotta get you outta here!" Wayne yelled from behind.

When they'd reached the roof where the helicopter had been waiting, they could see down below all the total chaos taking place.

"Michael walked to the edge of the building where he could see what he thought he had caused.

"Michael!" Kyla and Wayne shouted in unison.

He quickly turned around and ran towards the helicopter, jumping in after Kyla.

"Wayne! Are the other people going to be ok?" he was worried about his friends and his business associates.

"The other copter is on the way…there, it is now! They'll bring them to the airstrip and take them to their various homes.

"Ok" Michael felt a little of the panic inside him subside.

They sat in silence on the way to one of Michael's hideouts.

Once there, Michael asked Wayne and John if they could "make other arrangements" so he could spend some time alone with Kyla.

"Sure thing Michael" Wayne said with a silly grin on his face. Then, he turned to John and said: "Mikey can't come out play! He has to spend time with his girlfriend" in his best imitation of a little kid.

"Shut up Wayne!" Michael said, blushing, "Get out of here!"

He ran from the copter to where Kyla was standing.

"Come on," she put his arm around her, "we can be alone here."

Kyla was getting nervous. She had to give him an answer and he wasn't going to let up!

They walked up to Michael’s three story mansion and Michael, unknowingly to his millions of fans, moved the carpet out of the way, revealing the key to the door.

"You have a key underneath the mat!" Kyla was astonished.

"Sure. Why not?" Michael didn’t understand her question at first.

"Oh," he continued, "it’s the last place anyone would look. They’d never expect Michael Jackson to keep the key to his house under the welcome mat!" he smiled.

As they stepped inside, he turned to her and said: "Welcome. Hope your stay here is a good one," mocking a hotel attendant.

She smiled and looked down at the floor.

"Kyla? What’s wrong? Wait, let me guess. You think I’m pressuring your just a little and you’re a little wary about being Mrs. Michael Jackson."

Her eyes shot up to his. She stood there, motionless and with her mouth half open.

‘Don’t look so surprised. I think we’re on the same wave length—spiritually I mean. It’s like I can hear you calling out to me. If it’s really quiet, I can hear you whispering in my ear."

She let out a breath and looked relieved in some way.

"Well?" he said quietly, nervously darting his eyes from her to the floor and back again. She knew exactly what he was asking.

"Well…Michael, we have to talk."

She walked towards the big soft black couch.

He followed her, half expecting her to say no.

He thought: "If she says no, I don’t know what I’ll do."

All those old fears of rejection began to cloud his mind.

"What is Kyla’s answer?" he wondered.

Once sitting on the couch, she positioned herself to face Michael.

She reached over and grabbed his hands, looking thoughtfully into his eyes.

"There are some things I must tell you, then you decide if you still want me as your wife." She said, point blank.

Michael knew she had serious doubts about marrying him, so he listened intently to understand her reasons.

"You know I love you. You know you are my soul, my heart, my everything. I must tell you, certain things about myself. Here goes…" she let out a short breath.

"I’m still, in spite of everything, a very independent woman. I love being with you. It’s the damn scrutiny I don’t think I want to have to deal with. I …this can’t be a normal marriage, Michael. You’re like a hurricane: you’re the eye, the center of calmness. But everything around you is chaotic. Like I said, I still need my independence. I won’t be some kind of stay-at-home mom. That’s not my personality. I like to work; to get my juices flowing. I’m intensely private. No photographs in magazines with me draped all over you. I also can’t go flying all around the world every couple of days either."

I need you like….like air sweetie, but you may not like the kind of wife I will be."

"So, is that a yes?" Michael asked, with sparkling eyes and a wicked smile.

"…and what about kids? I don’t want to get pregnant on my wedding night…" she was trying to make herself as unappealing as possible because she still didn’t think she was strong enough to deal with being Michael Jackson’s wife.

"Yeah sure. Well?" he asked.

"Well what?" "Will you marry me?"

She looked into his deep pools of love and said: "Yes. Yes I will. I love you. One request, though. The minute we start acting like a ‘married couple’, the deal is off Jackson…"she joked.

"Ha. That’s the whole point of getting married! So I can sit around in my old underwear and scratch myself. Drink a six-pack of beer and belch!" he joked back.

"Ah!" Michael jumped up and down in place, waving his hands in the air.

Then he stopped, knelt down in front of her and began to kiss her full lips. Hard and slowly, slightly sucking on her lower lip.

Then he suddenly stopped and asked: "Do you want to now, or do you want to wait until our wedding night?"

"Michael Jackson, if you make me wait another minute, I’m going to burst!" she replied, making fun of herself.

At that, he slowly began to unbutton her shirt, feeling her soft ample breasts; exploring with his hands.

He began kissing her again gently and without stopping.

Michael broke away from the embrace and led her upstairs into his bedroom.

They couldn’t wait to get into the room; pulling each other’s clothes off on their way to the bed.

She lay down and Michael slowly creeped on top of her.

He began to kiss her nakedness with all the passion he felt in his heart; slowly working his was down to her stomach—his tongue flickering in and out of her belly button.

Then, lower he went, to the region of all the ecstasy in the universe, kissing and tasting; running his tongue over the softness of her flesh.

Michael has seen this done a few times to nameless women on low budget porn flicks and he learned very quickly.

Spreading her legs wider and placing his right had under her bent leg and his left had on her pelvis to keep her still, he began his invasion of her virginity. He ran his tongue up and down….from her clit to he cradle of her body.

Her saltiness covering the sides of his mouth and his tongue, he continued; working her body into a frenzy of abandonment and then, just before she’d come, he’d slow down to almost a halt and let her calm down.

This was sweet torture to her! He did this over and over again about 6 times. She could hardly see straight.

Then finally, he couldn’t stop himself and she came; her body wild as the multiple orgasms took over her. Colors of red, blue, and black flashed under her eyelids; and still he continued.

Her salty sweetness was his notification that he was doing a hell of a good job.

Finally, she couldn’t take anymore and turned her body on her side and begged for him to have mercy on her!

He just lifted his head and smiled up at her.

"I hope you know that this is just the beginning," he said, a sexy smile running from ear to ear on his face.

She couldn’t believe it! This was just the beginning?!