around the world are always interested in bad dating stories.”
“So that’s why you date, to have stories?”
“Technically, I don’t date,” she said, then popped a peanut in her mouth. “I go to events, watch people and tell stories about it. What I really want to do is start traveling and be a black girl around the globe, or something like that.”
“That sounds good and everything, but is this your career?”
Mimi raised her right eyebrow and shot him a cold look. “I’m sorry that I don’t want to spend my time locked behind a desk in a stuffy office with bad lighting. I have the talent to make the world my office. And since you were all over Google checking me out, you see I wrote a bestselling book about dating, so don’t try me like that.”
“Hey, I didn’t mean any harm. Go for it, black girl around the globe.”
She rolled her eyes. “Does being condescending win many cases for you?”
“Ouch,” he said as he downed his drink. “You speak your mind without hesitation. That’s pretty sexy.”
“And that was pretty sexist. Insult the woman, then try flirting with her to shut her up.”
“Damn, Mimi, you don’t give people a chance at all, do you?”
“Those who deserve it,” she said. “Pity, I thought you’d be one of those people. I’m glad we had this talk.” She started to stand and Brent touched her elbow.
* * *
Mimi tried to pretend that the feel of Brent’s hand on her skin didn’t affect her. She wanted to act as if their tête-à-tête hadn’t been the most interesting conversation she’d had with the opposite sex in a long time. She wanted to muster the strength to storm away from him as she would’ve done with any other guy who’d pissed her off. But Brent was different. She liked him. Liked that he challenged her and wasn’t a pushover.
He just didn’t need to know that.
“Please get your hands off me,” she said quietly.
“After we dance, I won’t ever touch you again,” he said with a smile that made her heart skip three beats. Brent stood up and wrapped his arm around Mimi’s waist. Without giving her a chance to protest, he ushered her to the dance floor as the band began to play a slow groove.
The moment he pulled her against his chest, Mimi sighed. His arms felt so good. And the man had some moves. His hip thrusts seemed to foretell nights of pleasure wrapped in the bed. Not to be outdone, Mimi unleashed her own moves, spinning and doing a quick step that rivaled the winner of Dancing with the Stars. A few other couples around them stopped to watch the sensual movements Mimi and Brent were doing. When the song ended, half of the applause was for Brent and Mimi rather than the band.
“Not bad,” he said. “I get the feeling that you have a lot of surprises underneath that gold dress.”
She smiled, hoping that her heartbeat would return to normal as he drank in her image. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Right now, I’m just going to buy you a drink,” he replied with a smile.
I could wake up Sunday morning with him, she thought as they headed back to the bar.
By the time Brent and Mimi pushed through the crowd and made it back to the bar, there wasn’t an open seat in sight.
“Well, that escalated rather quickly,” Mimi quipped. She scanned the crowd for MJ and wasn’t surprised when she found her friend in a corner with Nic. “I guess the real bartender showed up.”
“If he didn’t, that would explain the traffic jam at the bar. I didn’t realize there were so many people in here. Then again, with my workload, I don’t get to hang out in the Atlanta popular spots much.”
Mimi hadn’t noticed either, because when she’d been wrapped in Brent’s arms nothing else had mattered.
“Want to get out of here?” she asked.
“Sound like a great plan. I’m not fond of big crowds,” Brent replied, then draped his arm around Mimi’s shoulders as a wave of people pushed passed them. His possessive touch sent a wave of pleasure down her spine. She wiggled out of the intimate embrace because it felt so good.
“Some Waffle House would be really good,” Mimi said. “Nic and his tapas menu isn’t going to work for me tonight. I’m really hungry.” Though her hunger had more to do with the man she’d been dancing with than food.
“Man, I haven’t had a pecan waffle and grits in a minute.” He glanced at Mimi’s svelte figure. “And I see this isn’t a habit for you either.”
“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
