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Chapter 4
Work on Friday seemed to drag on forever. Your intern Alex joked a couple of times about what could be so important to distract you this much. You were a bundle of nerves and excitement. You can't remember the last time anyone made you feel this giddy! When 12:30 finally arrived you got out of there as quickly as you could lest someone delay you from procuring the perfect dress. Your shopping excursion had been extremely fruitful! You look over at the dress hanging on the closet door. It's perfect! You hope he likes red! It's one of your favorite colors.
Your thoughts turn the Mike's phone call earlier that afternoon. You had just got home from work and had yet to leave to go shopping. When you picked up the phone you heard that voice again.
"Hey there!" Mike says.
"Hey there yourself!" You say playfully.
"I just got back home and wanted to give you my address of my apartment and directions if you need them." He says.
You don't need directions though; you know the area that he lives in. You had lived in Los Olivos most of your life. You talk for a few minutes about day to day things.
"So, I'm looking forward to tonight," He says softly.
"Me too." You say just as softly.
"See you then." Mike says.
"Yep, bye," You reply.
So now it's 6pm and you are standing in your room in your bra and panties trying to figure out what to do with your hair. Up or down? After many agonizing moments you decide on up. Using several bobby pins you secure you hair in a mass of curls. Making sure a couple of tendrils frame your face. You had done your make up after getting out of the shower. You grab the dress of the closet door and slide it off the hanger. You step into it and pull it up your body! It's silky and feels wonderful! You sit down on the bed and place your feet in black strappy heels. Looking through your jewelry box you select and silver bracelet and silver earrings with little rubies in them. You check yourself over critically in your full length mirror. Not too bad it you do say so yourself.
Grabbing you small black purse and your car keys you take a deep breath. Well here's goes nothing! You walk out of your apartment building and a couple of guys whistle at you from across the street! You give them a cheeky wave and get into your car.
The drive to his apartment is about 20 minutes so you start to flip through the radio stations to find a good song to listen to. You stop on a radio station that is playing "In the Closet" Michael Jackson's new song and you sing along. When the song ends the radio host comes back on and says "Speaking of Michael Jackson he was just in New York for a charity event for the Juvenile Diabetes foundation. Jackson is almost as well known for his charity work as he is for his music. He made a moving speech at the event and we have a clip of that." A wave of thankfulness washes over you. Having been diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes as a small child you were all too aware of the hardships that it presented. Knowing that there were celebrities like Michael Jackson giving the charity the attention it deserved made you happy. Juvenile diabetes research holds a special place in your heart.
Suddenly an all too familiar voice fills the car "Good evening everyone. I just want to take a few minutes to say…", but you don't hear the words anymore. You stare at the radio as awareness slowly seeps into your brain.
"It can't be!" You say out loud. It's impossible! But it's also apparently true. There's no mistaking that voice and you can't believe that you didn't realize it before. That's why he seems so familiar! You've seen his face and heard his voice a thousand times over the years. Blue contacts and a baseball hat fooled you completely. Honestly though did you ever expect to meet Michael Jackson at your local park? No! You knew that Neverland Ranch was in Santa Ynez and had even driven past it several times, but you never expected this.
The evening suddenly takes on a whole new meaning. You have a date with Michael Jackson! You start to hyperventilate a little. Well if you weren't nervous before you definitely are now. Not that you're a huge groupie type of fan, but you are a fan of his. For years you have thought that he was the hottest man to walk the planet!
"What the hell am I going to do?" You wonder to yourself. Do you tell him that you figured it out? Do you wait for him to tell you? Will he be upset if he finds out that you knew and didn't say? You'll just have to figure it out as the evening progresses.
"Well this obviously isn't Neverland." You think to yourself when you pull up in front of the apartment building. You stare up at it for a few minutes trying to pull yourself together. You climb out of the car. It's now or never.
Minutes later you're knocking on his door. After a few seconds it swings open and he's standing there feet from you. He seems like he's about to say hello when he stops and his gaze travels up your body. His mouth forming an O he smiles at you. How did you miss that before? That amazing smile that you've seen in a million pictures.
"You look amazing!" He says somewhat breathlessly.
You find your voice does not want to work properly. "Thank you," You whisper. Your eyes travel to his face. He looks gorgeous even with blue contacts covering up those incredible brown eyes and what you are sure is a light brown wig in a short style covering his black curls. He's wearing black pants and of all things a red button down shirt! You can't help but giggle. He looks at you confused.
"What?" He asks suspiciously.
"We match," You say simply still chuckling.
He looks at you and then back at himself. "I guess we do. What can I say great minds think alike. Please come in."
You walk into the apartment and look around. It's small, but cozy. You realize that it's probably not a place he uses to often.
Michael places his hand on the small of your back and guides you into the living room. There's a love seat and a couple of cozy chairs. On the coffee table sits a bottle of red wine chilling in a bucket and two glasses. He gestures for you to sit down and you do gratefully. Your legs feel like Jell-O.
"Wine?" He asks.
"Please." You reply.
He pours the wine and hands you a glass. You take it with shaking hands. Michael does not fail to notice this.
"Are you ok?" He asks his voice full of concern.
"I'm fine." You say. "Just a little nervous." As you say this though your head swims with dizziness and you feel that all too familiar cold sweat break out all over you body. You set your glass down on the table and ask "Can I use your restroom?"
"Sure." He says eyeing you with worry. "It's down the hall first door on the right."
You stand up and head down the hallway. You make it into the bathroom and sit down on the side of the tub. You grab your purse and dig out you glucose meter and lancing device. You insert a test strip into the meter and poke your finger with the lancing device. Squeezing out a small drop of blood you hold it up to the test strip in the meter and a couple seconds later the meter beeps. Damn! Your blood sugar is 42. It's dangerously low. You dig in your purse for the glucose tablets that you always have with you for these situation, but there not in there. In your haste and excitement you forgot to put them in the purse you were using this evening. At this point you have no choice. You can't make it back out there like this.
"Mike!" You call out.
His voice sounds immediately from outside the door. "I'm here. Are you ok?"
"Do you have any soda or anything with sugar in it?" You ask and your voice is shaky as is the rest of your body. Your head swims with dizziness. You lean over placing your head in between your legs and breathing deeply. You don't want to pass out.
"Yeah, hold on." You hear his footsteps retreat and he's back in a matter of seconds. "Is it ok if I open the door?"
"Please," You say in a small voice.
The door opens and Michael walks in. when he sees the state you are in he immediately drops to his knees in front of you. "Jesus! What's wrong?"
You say nothing as you grab the soda out of his hand and start to drink it quickly. You drink about half of it without stopping. Michael notices your meter on the sink and picks it up. He looks at the screen and then looks at you.
"42? Your blood sugar is 42? That's really low. Are you ok?" His voice is filled with worry and concern.
"Not yet, but I should be in a little while. Once my blood sugar comes back up." You were still sitting on the side of the bathtub with your eyes closed to the dizziness.
"Do you want to lie down for a little while?" he asks.
"As soon as I can stand up without falling over." You say with a small laugh.
"How about this?" Michael asks and before you can question his meaning he is scooping you up into his arms and carrying you out of the bathroom and down the hallway. In your somewhat disoriented mind you marvel at his strength and how easily he carries you. Shouldering open a door he strides across the room and places you gently on the bed. You lie down and close your eyes.
"You didn't have to do that." You say, "But thank you."
"Well I couldn't very well leave you like that in the bathroom." He responds.
He sits down on the side of the bed and asks "Are you a diabetic?"
You open your eyes and look at him. "I am."
"Type 1 or Type 2?" He inquires.
"Type 1, I was diagnosed when I was 3. I'm surprised that you know there is a difference most people don't." You say honestly.
"I like to read about pretty much everything. So I've picked up a lot of stuff over the years. Dinner should be ready in about ten minutes. Do you think you'll be ok by then?" His voice is still edged with worry.
"I'm already starting to feel a bit better." The shaking was subsiding and the dizziness was starting to fade. "Can you bring me my glucose meter and stuff from the bathroom? I want to check and make sure that my blood sugar is coming back up.
"I'll be back in a sec." He says disappearing out the door.
You sit up and place your head in your hands. What a way to start eh evening. You almost passed out in his bathroom!
He returns carrying your purse and meter. He sits down on the edge of the bed and hands everything to you. He watches you poke your finger and winces.
"Doesn't that hurt?' He asks.
"You get used to it after so long." You say as you lay back down. He takes a hold of your hand and looks at your finger tips. His fingers glide softly over them. You know the tips of your finger are covered with little pinpricks. All you can do is stare at him while he looks over your fingers.
"It looks like they hurt," He says softly and then gently kisses each finger. You lips part as the air rushes out of your lungs.
"It doesn't," You whisper huskily.
He looks down at you and there is desire in his eyes and before you realize that he even moved he's kissing you.
