get.
“Mr. Duncan, you still there?”
“Ah, yeah. I’m still here.” I forced myself to lift my eyes from her breasts to her face as I continued to avoid her marriage question. “Maxine, can you do me a favor? If we’re gonna work together, don’t call me Mr. Duncan. Everyone at the office calls me Wil.”
“Okay, Wil, but everyone calls me Mimi.”
“All right. Mimi it is.” We both smiled and got back to our meals. For the time being, the issue of my marriage remained an unanswered question. That is, until my wandering eyes got me in trouble again.
“Um, Wil, is something wrong with my blouse? Do I have a spot on it or something? ’Cause you keep staring at it pretty hard.” She reached up and closed the top two buttons of her blouse. My face immediately turned bright red, and it took a few seconds before I could reply.
“Ah, no, actually I was admiring your blouse,” I lied, hoping that a compliment might defuse the situation. “I’d love to pick up something like that for my wife. You have excellent taste in clothes.”
“You think so?” Now she was blushing, but the smirk on her face said, I knew you were married. “I picked this up at Ashley Stewart’s in Green Acres Mall. They have the most phenomenal plus-size clothes in there. A girl could go broke in there.” She stopped herself. “Oh, my goodness. I’m sorry. Your wife is probably a size six. I don’t even know why I mentioned a plus-size shop.”
“Size six,” I laughed. “What would make you think that? For your information, my wife is a size sixteen, and she’s been big ever since I met her,” I stated with pride.
“Sixteen! That’s my size.” Mimi was grinning like she’d hit the lottery. “I must say, Wil, I’m impressed. Usually handsome men like you aren’t attracted to us big-boned women. Y’all usually want them toothpick sisters that are always showing off their stomachs.”
“Please, ain’t nothin’ a skinny woman can do for me but introduce me to her big friend,” I joked. “I’m two hundred and seventy-three pounds, Mimi. How I look getting on top of somebody a hundred and twenty pounds? I might kill her ass. I need a woman with some meat on her bones.”
Mimi waved her hand, grinning from ear to ear. “Wil, you are a mess. So how long you been married?”
“Ten years in three months,” I finally confessed.
Mimi seemed to straighten up in her chair when she heard that.
“Wow, ten years with the same woman. These days, that’s impressive. So, do you cheat?” The words came out her mouth so nonchalantly I wasn’t sure if it was an invitation to fool around or an honest question.
“I beg your pardon?”
“I asked if you cheat on your wife.” She looked me straight in the eye.
“No, I do not cheat on my wife, Mimi.” I put some attitude in my voice for emphasis. She didn’t know it, but after the incident with the stripper photos, cheating was a very sensitive subject in my marriage.
She lifted her hands passively. “Don’t get offended. I had to ask you that if I’m going to be an effective secretary. I got fired from my last job because I called the wife by the mistress’s name.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about that, because I ain’t got no mistress.”
“Hmm, well I’m certainly glad to hear that.” Mimi smirked naughtily to herself as if she’d just heard a private joke. I was just hoping the joke wasn’t on me.
“Maxine! I knew that was you.” A short, stocky man with schoolboy glasses and a receding hairline was now standing next to our table. How he got that close without either of us noticing him is beyond me. I guess we both must have really been into our conversation.
“Antoine!” Mimi jumped up and wrapped her arms around the man. She kissed him flush on the lips, and I think I actually felt a momentary twinge of jealousy. “What are you doing here?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing. I told Keisha that was you sitting over here in
“Mr. Duncan, you still there?”
“Ah, yeah. I’m still here.” I forced myself to lift my eyes from her breasts to her face as I continued to avoid her marriage question. “Maxine, can you do me a favor? If we’re gonna work together, don’t call me Mr. Duncan. Everyone at the office calls me Wil.”
“Okay, Wil, but everyone calls me Mimi.”
“All right. Mimi it is.” We both smiled and got back to our meals. For the time being, the issue of my marriage remained an unanswered question. That is, until my wandering eyes got me in trouble again.
“Um, Wil, is something wrong with my blouse? Do I have a spot on it or something? ’Cause you keep staring at it pretty hard.” She reached up and closed the top two buttons of her blouse. My face immediately turned bright red, and it took a few seconds before I could reply.
“Ah, no, actually I was admiring your blouse,” I lied, hoping that a compliment might defuse the situation. “I’d love to pick up something like that for my wife. You have excellent taste in clothes.”
“You think so?” Now she was blushing, but the smirk on her face said, I knew you were married. “I picked this up at Ashley Stewart’s in Green Acres Mall. They have the most phenomenal plus-size clothes in there. A girl could go broke in there.” She stopped herself. “Oh, my goodness. I’m sorry. Your wife is probably a size six. I don’t even know why I mentioned a plus-size shop.”
“Size six,” I laughed. “What would make you think that? For your information, my wife is a size sixteen, and she’s been big ever since I met her,” I stated with pride.
“Sixteen! That’s my size.” Mimi was grinning like she’d hit the lottery. “I must say, Wil, I’m impressed. Usually handsome men like you aren’t attracted to us big-boned women. Y’all usually want them toothpick sisters that are always showing off their stomachs.”
“Please, ain’t nothin’ a skinny woman can do for me but introduce me to her big friend,” I joked. “I’m two hundred and seventy-three pounds, Mimi. How I look getting on top of somebody a hundred and twenty pounds? I might kill her ass. I need a woman with some meat on her bones.”
Mimi waved her hand, grinning from ear to ear. “Wil, you are a mess. So how long you been married?”
“Ten years in three months,” I finally confessed.
Mimi seemed to straighten up in her chair when she heard that.
“Wow, ten years with the same woman. These days, that’s impressive. So, do you cheat?” The words came out her mouth so nonchalantly I wasn’t sure if it was an invitation to fool around or an honest question.
“I beg your pardon?”
“I asked if you cheat on your wife.” She looked me straight in the eye.
“No, I do not cheat on my wife, Mimi.” I put some attitude in my voice for emphasis. She didn’t know it, but after the incident with the stripper photos, cheating was a very sensitive subject in my marriage.
She lifted her hands passively. “Don’t get offended. I had to ask you that if I’m going to be an effective secretary. I got fired from my last job because I called the wife by the mistress’s name.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about that, because I ain’t got no mistress.”
“Hmm, well I’m certainly glad to hear that.” Mimi smirked naughtily to herself as if she’d just heard a private joke. I was just hoping the joke wasn’t on me.
“Maxine! I knew that was you.” A short, stocky man with schoolboy glasses and a receding hairline was now standing next to our table. How he got that close without either of us noticing him is beyond me. I guess we both must have really been into our conversation.
“Antoine!” Mimi jumped up and wrapped her arms around the man. She kissed him flush on the lips, and I think I actually felt a momentary twinge of jealousy. “What are you doing here?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing. I told Keisha that was you sitting over here in
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