“Two hours a few times a week in the gym while writing makes up for my indulgent foodie ways,” she said as they headed for the exit. “But for the record, I hate grits.”
“A foodie, huh? Do you ever write about that on your blog?”
“Have you ever read my blog?”
“Not closely. I gave it a glance earlier, remember.”
Mimi rolled her eyes. “Rule number one, never tell a blogger that you don’t read her blog.”
“I prefer to be honest.”
She sucked her teeth. “What a tragic character flaw. Wait a minute, you’re a lawyer, and you lie every day.”
“Wrong. I’m closed on Sundays.”
“Aww, so you admit it!”
Brent shook his head. “Admit what?”
She rolled her eyes. “It is too late to play this verbal jujitsu. Let’s just go eat and be good neighbors.”
“Sounds like a plan,” he said. “But I’m a little curious about something.”
“What’s that?”
“Why do you open your personal life up for the world to see?”
Mimi shrugged. “Because I write about things that women can relate to. I’m doing a public service, you know.”
“Interesting way of thinking. Very creative. I guess I’m going to have to subscribe to your blog,” he said with a wink. Then Brent glanced down at Mimi’s shoes. “Are you sure you’re going to be able to make it in those sky-high heels?”
Mimi nodded. “The sidewalk is my runway. Just don’t let me fall. And if you like my blog, you should buy my book, too.”
Brent laughed. “I will definitely catch you and buy your book if you promise to sign it.”
* * *
The short walk to the Waffle House did prove to be a little bit of torture, but not because of Mimi’s shoes. It was Brent. Every time she took a breath, his masculine scent filled her nostrils and sent waves of desire through her body. She couldn’t figure out if it was sandalwood or just his natural scent that was driving her crazy.
As they walked into the restaurant, Brent placed his hand on the small of her back and an electric jolt rushed through her body. Be still my beating heart, she thought.
“Booth or the counter?” he asked.
“Booth, for sure.” She glanced at the people standing at the counter waiting for take-out orders. “It’s too busy over there.”
Brent nodded in agreement and they took a seat at a table in the back of the restaurant. Mimi nervously grabbed the plastic menu and pretended to study it, while she quietly checked Brent out. He looked really good with clothes on. His tailored shirt hugged the muscles she’d seen up close.
“I thought you knew what you wanted,” Brent said. “You’re studying that menu as if it’s an SAT exam.”
Mimi lowered the menu and smirked at him. “I took the ACT and made a perfect score. I’m just thinking about trying something new.” Like you.
“Can’t go wrong with a pecan waffle,” he said. “And bacon.”
“Not a fan of pork,” she said. “But I think a pecan waffle and cheese eggs are just what I need.”
What she really felt like she needed was his lips pressed against hers, his tongue dancing with hers as they stripped each other naked. Biting her full bottom lip, Mimi wondered what would be the consequences of sleeping with her neighbor. Yes, she’d have to see him again. There would be that awkward moment after she dipped out of his place and went home. And suppose he brought someone home? Would she go all deranged ex or mind her business? Guess that would depend on how good the sex was.
A waitress walked over to the table to take Mimi’s and Brent’s orders. After they told her what they wanted and she walked away, Brent focused on Mimi and smiled.
“So,” he began. “Why do people call you firecracker?”
Mimi rolled her eyes. “Nic calls me that because he can’t handle a woman who doesn’t fawn all over him, like MJ. And people don’t call me that.”
Brent leaned back in the booth. “I think it fits.”
“You don’t even know me like that.”
“Let’s see, you—by your own admission—are nosy. You speak your mind and I get the feeling that you can be rather explosive.”
Mimi raised her right eyebrow at him. “And you’ve figured all of this out from knowing me less than twelve hours?” She looked down at her watch for effect.
“Part of the job. I have to be a good judge of character.” Brent smiled again and her heart fluttered.
Get it together, girl, she chided herself.
Mimi rolled her eyes again and held her tongue, lest he make another judgment about her. “Anyway, Matlock,” she said, “you’ve asked a lot of questions tonight and shared nothing about yourself.”
“I’m sure you ran a Google search,” he replied with a wink.
“Like you didn’t do the same thing. You’re a heavy hitter in the legal community and you give back to Big Brothers Big Sisters. Google makes you seem like you’re all work and no play. A little staid.”
Brent nodded. “I don’t know if I should be impressed or insulted.”
“Why are you hiding behind all of your good press? Angry exes? You’re really a playboy like your friend, Jamal?”
“Why do you immediately go for the negative?”
She shrugged. “Because no one is perfect and I like to know what I’m dealing with up front.”
“Who hurt you?”
Mimi was about reply when the waitress returned with their coffee and iced tea. After Brent watched her pour sugar and creamer into her steaming cup of coffee, he asked, “Well?”
“Well what?”
“You’re guarded and I’m sure there is a reason.”
She took a long, slow sip of her coffee. “And,” she said after swallowing, “you think I’m just going to open up to you because you have pretty eyes?” Why did I say that? Now he’s going to think I’m flirting.
“Usually works on beautiful women, but I see Mimi Collins is a different breed,” he quipped. “Can I ask one last question?”
“You can ask, but I’m not going to promise that I’ll answer.”
“Is Mimi your real name or your pen name?”
“Nickname. My government name is Mariah.”
“Beautiful name. It fits you.” Brent smiled at her and took a sip of his tea. Mimi’s cheeks heated under his stare. It felt as if Brent saw through all of her walls, and that never happened.
“Maybe if I were a singer and had bigger boobs,” she said. Mimi rolled her eyes and silently chided herself. She’d written about women doing the same brainless thing she was doing right now. Wasn’t she the one who wrote about men being hunters and women shouldn’t make themselves seem too available?
“Funny,” he said. “I think everything about you is just fine.”
Sighing, Mimi figured that since she’d made every mistake that she warned her readers about, she might as well go for the