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 gusto.
“Why are you still single?” she asked. “You’re everything that women in Atlanta want. You should have a girlfriend, fiancée, wife or at least a baby mama.”
“I never said I was single,” Brent said.
Mimi’s eyes widened. “Oh, so...”
“My career is my everything right now. Too many women say I make them feel like a mistress because work comes first.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that. You don’t reach your level of success without hard work and sacrifice.”
“Easy to say when you aren’t dating me and I’m working on a case that keeps me out very late.”
“You have a point there,” she said. “But the solution is don’t date. It’s too stressful and when it stops being fun, you should always move on.”
“Wow, that’s not even how it’s supposed to work.”
“It works for me. Besides, you can’t say that you’re looking for the white picket fence, two point five kids and a fluffy dog.”
Brent sipped his tea, then nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m looking for. I just haven’t found the right woman to share my vision.”
“When you build that time machine and head back to the 1950s, invite me to the wedding. I love wedding cake. Never tasted a piece of dry wedding cake.”
Brent laughed and Mimi closed her eyes. The sound of his laughter sent tingles down her spine that settled between her thighs. And as much as she
