Feel The Heat. Cheris HodgesЧитать онлайн книгу.
relented because he couldn’t deny how much help Jamal had been in moving his stuff. There was a part of him that knew there was a lot of truth in what Jamal said. But he had to craft his life this way; being the son of one Georgia’s most notorious lawyers who fell from grace made everything he did subject to scrutiny.
Did he push himself too hard? Maybe. But he never wanted anyone to ever mistake him for his womanizing father. So, he had a type, and if she stepped out of line, his next step was out the door. Brent couldn’t help it that he needed someone who kept her business private to go along with the image he’d created for himself. But lately, the women he’d met wanted nothing more than to be the next housewife of some reality show.
And his ex-girlfriend Denisha Tate had almost sucked him into her plan. Who knew the contract attorney wanted their relationship to play out on TV?
“Yo,” Jamal said, snapping his fingers in Brent’s face, “we’re done, right?”
“Yeah. I’ll unpack this later.”
“All right then, we’ll meet back here in an hour and I will show you the beauty of Buckhead nightlife.” Jamal headed for the door, then turned around and gave his friend a stony look. “Now don’t let me come back in here and find you’re buried in a law book or a brief. Give it a break for a few days.”
Brent chuckled. “Okay. I’ll try. I will give you tonight because you had a brother’s back with this move. No work.”
Jamal nodded and headed out the door. Once he was alone, Brent walked over to the bay window looking over the city. Maybe this was the change that he needed.
Mimi had a good day and she was looking forward to a quiet night. MJ had finally stopped harassing her about the viral blog post. The World Wide News interview had been a success and video snippets were being shared on Twitter and Facebook. And her blog was blowing up even more. MJ had gotten Mimi booked on the local TV station for the five-thirty newscast.
Now that work was over, Mimi was ready to let her curly hair down and relax. And by relax, she meant getting wrapped up in a good book.
“MJ,” Mimi called from the terrace of her condo. “I really don’t want to go to some loud nightclub this evening.”
MJ walked onto the terrace holding two glasses of sweet tea. “Good, because we’re going to the Jazz Spot. My client has turned that place into a hot spot in the city.”
“Oh, that’s what we’re calling him now? ‘My client’?” Mimi laughed and MJ narrowed her eyes at her.
“I can’t with you. Nic and I have a professional relationship that works. Don’t be a hater.”
Mimi rolled her eyes and turned toward the picturesque view of downtown Atlanta. MJ stood beside her friend and handed her a glass of tea. Mimi took a sip of the tea and sighed.
“What’s that all about?” MJ asked as she followed Mimi’s glance.
Shrugging, she set her glass on the railing. “I guess I’m just a little tired.”
MJ shook her head. “Bull. You’re plotting something in that pretty little head of yours. I know you, Mimi.”
“I’m bored.”
MJ furrowed her brows. “Really?”
She nodded as she took a long sip of tea. “How long have we been in Atlanta?” Mimi asked. “Since undergrad, and we’ve been out of school for...”
“I clearly know how old we are. But you have a great base here.”
Mimi folded her arms across her chest. “I want to experience something new. I want to travel and write about new things. I know it’s popular, but this dating stuff is getting really old. What’s the point? My blog is about adventure, but I’m in a rut. I don’t want to write a follow-up to my book. What am I supposed to say? Dating in Atlanta still sucks rotten eggs?”
MJ shrugged and downed her tea. “I love Atlanta. Driving down 285 is an adventure for me. Where do you want to go?”
Mimi’s eyes sparkled. “Dallas, New Orleans, New York, Mexico. I just want to take a map, throw darts at it and go.”
“And you don’t think we’re at the age where it’s time to settle down?”
“Maybe you are—I mean, you have this client you want to nurture and stroke.”
“Shut up! Anyway, I’m going to change my clothes and I’ll be back in about an hour. Then we can talk rationally about why you shouldn’t leave Atlanta.”
Simply because she didn’t want to start an argument, Mimi nodded and agreed that she’d consider it. But there was seriously nothing that could change her mind. She needed something new in her life and she was going to reach out and grab it.
* * *
Brent had already broken his promise to Jamal this weekend. After their early morning workout and plan to explore the new neighborhood, Brent returned home and started working. He’d spent the majority of the morning on the phone with his paralegal. Then half of the afternoon was dedicated to having her go through motions that he’d drafted two weeks ago. Brent liked to be ready for the unexpected in civil cases. And even though this one seemed to be open and shut, he wanted to make sure he had all the i’s dotted and the t’s crossed.
When his doorbell had chimed and he was dressed only in his basketball shorts and a white tank top, he was sure he was going to hear an earful from his buddy. “Give me a second,” he said as he padded over to the door. Without looking through the peephole, he opened the door.
* * *
Mimi was just being nosy. She’d heard noise in what she thought was still an empty unit in the building. But when the door opened and he stood there, tall, chocolate and fine, she was at a loss for words. Who was this tanned Adonis with slate gray eyes?
“Yes?” he asked, his voice deep like a quiet storm DJ and his smile hypnotizing.
“Umm, I’m your neighbor,” Mimi stammered. “I didn’t know someone had moved in and I was... Well, I was being nosy.”
He smiled again as he gave her a cool once-over. Mimi wished that she had already dressed in her party clothes instead of an Atlanta Hawks tank top and a pair of form-fitting black leggings. “If you’re the welcoming committee, where are the cupcakes and muffins?” he quipped.
“I said I was nosy, not a cook. Besides, you don’t look as if you let carbs touch your lips,” she said, then zeroed in on a flat midsection that she imagined held a set of washboard abs.
“Wouldn’t say that. I know how to work them off,” he replied.
“I bet you do,” she muttered.
“I’m sorry?”
“Mimi Collins. I’m Mimi Collins, and you are...?”
“Brent Daniels,” he said, then extended his hand. Mimi shook it and sizzling jolts of electric lust flowed through her body. Tilting her head to the side, she focused on his face.
“Where do I know you from?” she asked. “You look very familiar.”
He shrugged. “I’m an attorney.”
It was as if a light bulb went off in her head. An attorney? He was the attorney! Brent Daniels was the man you called when you needed a one-lawyer dream team. And this was her neighbor?
“So, you’re that Brent Daniels! Wow. Welcome to the neighborhood.”
“I like the way you say my name,” he said with another megawatt smile. Mimi inhaled sharply, her nostrils filled with the clean citrus scent of him, and her knees went weak.
“I’d