Читать книгу: «Feel The Heat»

CHERIS HODGES was bit by the writing bug early. The 1999 graduate of Johnson C. Smith University is a freelance journalist and always looks for love stories in the most unusual places. She lives in Charlotte, North Carolina, where she is trying and failing to develop a green thumb.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter 1

Mimi Collins pressed the post button on her blog and all she heard was her best friend, Michael Jane, affectionately known as MJ, screaming.

“You have officially lost your mind,” she said. “This is worse than my mother misspelling Michelle and naming me Michael! You do realize that Fast Love is going to come after you when they read this.”

Mimi shrugged as she read over her post about the horrific dating event she’d attended the week before. Fast Love billed itself as the last site singles ever needed to log on to in order to find love.

What a bunch of bull. The Fast Love Mix and Mingle, which was held at SkyLounge in Atlanta, turned out to be casting call for “let’s have a one-night stand.” The first two men who’d approached her held conversations with her breasts; the third man just came out and asked her when she planned to get naked for him, then he’d flashed her a wad of cash. She’d been offended and confused, so Mimi approached some of the other women who’d been invited to the event. Their stories had mirrored hers.

When Mimi had headed to the bar, she’d noticed a man sitting alone nursing a whiskey sour.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” she’d asked as she waved for the bartender.

He rolled his eyes at her and grumbled no. “This isn’t what I expected from the email Fast Love sent,” he’d replied, then took a long sip of his drink.

“What was in your email?”

“Hot girls looking for action.”

“Seriously?”

Nodding, he’d opened the mail app on his smartphone and showed her the Fast Love email. Mimi’s mouth dropped at the image of half-naked women underneath the headline: Hot Girls Willing to Do Whatever... Fast Love Dating Event.

“What in the...” Mimi waved for the bartender, again. She needed a drink. She asked the man to forward her the email.

“What’s in it for me?” he’d asked as he wiggled his eyebrows.

Narrowing her eyes at him, Mimi asked him if his wife knew where he was, then nodded toward his left hand and the telltale tan line on his ring finger.

“Whatever,” he said, then agreed to forward her the email. After downing her single-malt scotch, Mimi headed over to a group of women who looked as if they were about to leave. After introducing herself as a relationship blogger, she asked them if they would share their thoughts about the event and why they’d signed up for Fast Love.

Two of the three women agreed to talk, and her story was born.

“Mariah Danielle Collins!” MJ said, breaking into her thoughts. “Are you listening to me?”

“Nope,” Mimi replied. “And the post is already getting hits.” She turned her computer screen toward MJ. “Look! Five thousand hits in ten minutes. This is going to be epic. Let’s go celebrate.”

MJ shook her head. “As a brand manager, I know that Fast Love isn’t going to take this sitting down. And you have to think about your own brand! Hello, you are a New York Times bestselling author and we’re in the middle of contract negotiations. You can’t have this kind of publicity. This is going to be so ugly. So ugly.”

“Nothing I said was a lie. They should’ve done a better job marketing this event. It was like a one-sided meat market. I’m doing the world a favor by exposing this nonsense. Too many people exploit single women to make money, and Fast Love is just another one of those companies. Like that obnoxious radio host who has been married four times but is supposed to be a relationship expert.”

MJ cleared her throat. “And some people have labeled you the same, and I don’t see you saying that you aren’t an expert.”

Mimi threw up her hands. “I’m a lifestyle blogger and author.”

“And when that cable news network asked you to speak about dating in the digital age, I didn’t hear you tell Bianca Norman that you weren’t an expert.”

“Listen,” Mimi said, “that was the producer’s job to get her straight. And I’m not an expert.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” MJ quipped.

Mimi glanced at her computer and saw that her post had reached ten thousand views. “Guess who’s about to go viral! Come on, let’s go.”

The two friends headed for the Buckhead Saloon, one of Mimi’s favorite bars. She could always depend on the bartenders to hip her to the latest drinks and celebrity gossip in the city. She even had her own drink there, the aptly named Mimi Collins—a fruity version of a Tom Collins. Mimi’s book, Dating in Atlanta: The Mis-Adventures of Mimi Collins, had given the place a huge buzz because many of the dates she’d written about had started there. And when one of the reality stars from the city had talked about Mimi’s book and the bar in a popular magazine, the place became a bona fide hot spot. The owners knew they had Mimi to thank for that. This afternoon, though, MJ and Mimi were going to celebrate with some hot wings.

“Mimi,” MJ said as they walked into the bar. “What if Fast Love doesn’t take to kindly to your viral post? You have a lot going on right now. You have the movie and second book deal in the works, and this could derail all of that.”

“You worry too much.” She waved to her favorite bartender as she and MJ took their seats at the end of the bar.

“Mimi, girl,” Lydia said as she poured two drinks. “You’re blowing up today! I was going to sign up for Fast Love, but after reading your blog I’m glad I didn’t. I can meet creeps right here for free.”

Mimi turned to MJ. “I did a public service. Now, what was that you were saying about Fast Love coming after me?”

Before MJ could answer, Mimi’s cell phone rang. “Oh my goodness, it’s World Wide News,” Mimi said, then answered her phone.

* * *

Sweat poured from Brent Daniels’s face as he and Jamal Carver, his best friend, lifted the sofa from the back of the moving truck. “Tell me again why you didn’t hire movers?” Jamal asked as they maneuvered the sofa up the stairs of the condo complex.

“Because the movers were booked up today and I need my furniture,” Brent grunted.

“So damned impatient! If I didn’t like this sofa, I’d drop it on your feet.”

“We’re strong enough to do this. Besides, you could use the exercise.”

“You know I can drop it and go home.”

“All right, all right. Dinner’s on me.”

“That’s a given.” The men climbed the three stories and made it to Brent’s front door.

“Why did you decide to move anyway?” Jamal asked.

“Tired of yard work,” Brent joked. “Besides, I moved out to the burbs because I thought I’d be starting a family.”

Jamal dropped his head. “I tried to warn you. Denisha Tate wasn’t worth your lifestyle change.”

Brent sucked his teeth. “Are you ever going to let that go?”

“Nope. Because you keep dating these paper broads.”

“Here we go,” Brent said as he unlocked the door.

“You want these women who have all of the right papers. The Spelman graduates, the PhDs from Yale, the Links sisters...”

“Stop it.”

“You need to stop it. You’re so busy trying to craft a perfect life that you’re not living. You’re a litigating machine, but when you crawl out of your work hole, you’re boring.”

Brent shook his head. “I’m far from boring. I just choose not to run the streets like a college student looking to score.”

“Hey, I resemble that remark. Dude, we’re living in the land of plenty. Plenty of booty, plenty of breasts and plenty of women who are down for whatever. You’d know that if got out of your law office every now and then. As a matter of fact, we’re going out tonight.”

“I’ve got briefs to prepare.”

“After all of the work I’ve just put in moving your bed and desk, we’re going out tonight to have a good time.”

Brent 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.

Chapter 2

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 better go,” she said as she took a step back. “I’m sure you were doing something important since you answered the door without looking to see who was on the other side.”

“Just unpacking and...”

“Well, well,” a male voice said from behind her. “Am I interrupting something here?”

Damn! He’s gay. I should’ve known that it was too good to be true, she thought as she started to back away. “I’m sorry,” she said turning to who she thought was Brent’s boyfriend. “This place had been empty for so long, when I heard movement, I just had to come see what was going on. Welcome to the building, I’m Mimi.”

“Whoa, I don’t live here,” he said. “I’m Jamal, by the way.”

Mimi smiled. “Nice to meet you. Well, I’ve done the nosy neighbor thing, so I guess it’s time for me to go.”

“Don’t leave yet, pretty lady,” he said. “Me and my boy hang out a lot. Why don’t you and some of your equally pretty female friends show us the neighborhood?”

“Jamal,” Brent chided. “Leave Ms. Collins alone.”

Jamal snapped his fingers. “As in Mimi Collins? Damn, girl, you were all over the news today.”

Brent looked from Jamal to Mimi. “The news?”

Mimi fanned her hand. “It was nothing serious. Just...”

Jamal pointed at her. “She writes that blog, the Misadventures of Mimi. Women swear by it and you’re hard on the brothers, if I must say so myself.”

Mimi folded her arms across her chest. “Only those who deserve it. Did I step on your toes, Jamal?”

“Sassy and fine. We should get married,” he said with a wink. “You going out tonight? Maybe I can give you some material to write about?”

“You’re doing a great job of that right now.” Mimi turned to Brent. “It was nice meeting you, Brent.” She shot Jamal a salty glance. “The pleasure was all yours.” As Mimi walked away, she felt Brent and Jamal watching her. She couldn’t help but put a little twist in her hips as she walked to her door. Life just got a little more interesting.