that they could never be anything but friends. And that could be fun, she told herself as the waitress brought their food over.
The scent of the breakfast fare made Mimi’s mouth water for another reason. She was actually hungry for food. Mimi struggled to take dainty bites of her food, even though she was starving.
As she watched syrup drip from her waffle, Mimi decided that her charade had gone on long enough. She wasn’t on a date and she wasn’t going to pretend that she wasn’t starving.
* * *
Brent was mesmerized by Mimi’s mouth. Her full lips closed around the fork and he couldn’t tear his eyes away when she licked her lips when the syrup dripped down from the utensil. When their eyes met as she spooned eggs into her mouth, she raised her eyebrow.
Swallowing, she asked, “What?”
“Nothing,” he replied with a smirk.
Mimi dropped her fork and wiped her mouth. “So, the way I eat must have ruled me out as your 1950s ideal woman.” She shrugged and laughed. “I’m okay with that.”
“You’re funny. I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship. One question, do you like football?”
She scrunched up her nose. “Not really. But I’m a season ticket holder for the Atlanta Hawks because of something I wrote in my book.”
“Yeah, I really need to become your best friend fast.”
“That could happen. How handy are you with hanging flat-screen televisions?”
“There’s not much I can’t do with my hands,” he bragged. Mimi nibbled on her bottom lip and Brent wondered what her lips would feel like pressed against his.
“When are you going to prove all of this to me?” she asked. “I mean, I just bought a television for my bedroom.”
Brent looked down at his watch. Yes, it was too late to roll into someone’s bedroom, especially someone who looked like Mimi.
“In the morning,” he said.
“Technically, it is morning. I wanted to hook up my PlayStation and see what this new game that’s on everybody’s lips is all about.”
“You’re a gamer, too? Mimi, why are you still single? If you read comics, you’re a nerd’s dream woman.”
She folded her arms across her chest as if she were offended. “Really? Who said I wanted to be anyone’s dream woman, particularly a nerd?”
“We’re the new dream men,” Brent said, laughing.
“I’m not getting the nerd vibe from you,” she said. “So, are you going to hook up my TV or not?”
“Why not?” he said. “Let’s just hope we don’t start a scandal in the complex.”
Mimi laughed. “Really? I’m sure we’re not being watched yet.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s right. I’m going into the nosy neighbor’s spot.”
She reached across the table and pinched him on the arm. “Whatever, nerd. Superman or Batman?”
“Black Panther. I’m a Marvel Comics guy. But if I had to choose, I’d go with Batman. Superman is just too perfect. Who can live up to that?”
Mimi narrowed her eyes at him. “But he’s all about truth, justice and the American way. How can a lawyer not believe in that?”
“But he isn’t even American. Batman knows the truth.”
Mimi couldn’t really argue with that. “Still, everyone loves Superman.”
“And I guess that’s what you’re looking for, Superman?”
“No way. I could never share my man with the world and be all right with that.”
Brent laughed and then took a spoonful of grits into his mouth. Mimi was something else. And he was definitely intrigued.
They finished eating, falling into easy conversation, and he decided that they definitely liked each other.
Mimi’s walk had changed to a shuffle as they left the Waffle House.
“Come here,” Brent said as they stopped in front of a bench near a MARTA stop.
“Why?” She sighed as she tried to ignore the throbbing in her toes. Her shoes had officially reached their time limit. Brent tugged at her arm until she joined him on the bench.
“We’ve already decided that we don’t have to impress each other. Give me the shoes,” he said.
“Umm, why?”
“Girl, you know your feet hurt. Give me the shoes.”
Mimi took her heels off and handed them over. Then Brent took her left foot into his hands, slowly kneading and massaging her insole. Mimi struggled not to moan in delight. So, he was good—no, amazing—with his hands. By the time he switched to her right foot, Mimi was ready to buy him a lifetime supply of bacon and bourbon.
“Oh my goodness,” she exclaimed. “I believe that was all the proof I needed about you and your hands. I think I could run a marathon in those shoes now.”
“How did you get to the lounge tonight?” he asked.
“I rode with MJ.” Mimi reached into her handbag to retrieve her phone. She wasn’t surprised that she didn’t have a single text or missed call from her friend. Mimi knew that she was in Nic-land and nothing else really mattered right now.
“It’s not that far of a walk back to our place. Jamal just sent me a message. He’s going to be otherwise occupied for the rest of the night.”
“You know, our friends are kind of selfish,” Mimi quipped, then she held her hand out. “My shoes, please.”
“Why would you want to put those skyscrapers on again?”
“Because I’m not walking on this dirty ground in my bare feet,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Then there’s only one solution,” he said, then scooped her up in his arms. Mimi would’ve protested, called him sexist or an ogre, if the heat from his body didn’t feel so good.
“You’re sure you can carry all of this home?” Then she pointed to her shoes beside the MARTA bench. “And you can not leave my shoes!”
Sitting her on the bench, he picked up the shoes and handed them to her. And as if he could read her mind, he picked her up again before she could put them on. “Oh, you don’t trust me?” she asked with a laugh.
“Your eyes tell everything. I saw you looking at those killer heels and I knew your next move.”
Mimi
