The Boss (A Michael Jackson FanFiction)

The Boss..31..

Using my green cloth napkin, I wipe the corners of my mouth then place it on top of my finished plate.

That was delicious.

"You were hungry, huh?" Michael chuckles, wiping the corners of his mouth, before placing his napkin on the table.

I finish the rest of my drink before answering, "Yes, and that was delicious."

Michael smiles. "I love a woman who doesn't mind eating."

"Then you just fell in love with me," I joke. "because I love food."

Michael chuckles as the waiter walks up and asks, "Together or separate?"

"Separt-"

"Together." Michael speaks over me. He stares at me seriously as he pulls a black AmEx card from his wallet. "I've got this, Miss Stewart. Don't worry yourself."

I arch an annoyed brow, because, of course, I have to and am going to protest.

"I can pay for my own food, Mr. Jackson."

"I'm quite sure you can, Miss Stewart, but today you will not be."

"Oh, I will be." I smile, mockingly, before looking to the waiter. "The check will be separate."

"No, it's no--Tamera," Michael sighs. He's annoyed and that makes me smile. "could you stop being so difficult?"

"Why haven't you realized I like being difficult, Michael?"

"I have," Michael smiles at me smirking at him. "And I'm still not budging on this. I asked you out to this lovely lunch. Therefore, as the "askee" and the gentleman in this scenario, I'm paying... for both of us." He waves me off. "Use your money to get your nails done or something."

"Excuse me?" I scoff at his sexist remark.

"Put away your money, baby," Michael winks and his tone is kind of condescending. "and let the man pay."

"Would you like me to give you two a minute to discuss this more?" The waiter asks, uncomfortably, as I stare Michael down.

"No, I'm paying and that's final." Michael smiles, handing him the card. "Give yourself a sizable tip too. Thank you, sir." I roll my eyes as the waiter walks away with Michael's card to complete the transaction. After looking through his wallet twice, he finally looks up at me and smiles wide. "Why, Miss Stewart," He pauses, suppressing an even bigger smile. "are you pouting?"

"No." I pout, without trying, and he chuckles.

"You are pouting." He laughs as I roll my eyes. "Did paying for yourself really mean that much to you, Tamera?"

"I don't like it when men pay my way."

"Why?"

"Because they always want something in return and I am not selling ass."

"If your ass was for sell, Miss Stewart, I wouldn't be working so hard to make it mine." Michael replies, staring straight at me. I clear my throat and look away from his searing stare.  "How about this," He begins the next second. "next time, maybe on our second date—I still won't let you pay."

"Michael!" I laugh, throwing a piece of lint at him.

"Ooo," He licks his lips, smiling. "I can just hear you moaning my name, Tamera."

"The fun I'll have making you wait to hear that." I smirk when he stops smiling. "Why, Mr. Jackson, are you pouting?"

He pouts, forcibly. "No."