Catt Chasing

by Shana Burton

  “I don’t know. I think all that love and romance crap is overrated.”

  “Is this the voice of someone who’s had his heart broken?”

  “Please! You have to give someone your heart in order for them to break it, and I don’t intend to do that.”

  “Admit it, Jamal. I know you’ve had your heart broken at least once.” She leaned into him. “So who is she?”

  “See, you want to know too much too soon. Time in the lab with you has proven to me that patience is not one of your virtues, but you’re going to have to pretend like it is for now. You don’t need to know all of my secrets yet.”

  Catt sat back. “It’s no secret that you’d made quite a name for yourself at Mystique. How did you end up at Telegenic?”

  “Fate, I guess. Plus, the chance at more autonomy and responsibilities was an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

  “Where were you before that?”

  “At this start-up company in Paris. That’s where I learned most of my tricks of the trade. Paris is a great place to cut your teeth in this business.”

  “Paris? As in France?”

  “Why do you sound so surprised?”

  “Because you look about as ‘hood’ as it gets! I can’t imagine you traipsing around Europe.”

  “See, you don’t know all there is to know about me either.”

  “I guess not.”

  “France was cool. I lived there for a couple of years. After I came back to the States, I knew that I wanted to move back to the South. A friend of mine from school had just landed a job at Mystique, and she knew I was looking to settle down here, so she hooked me up with the right people at the company, and the rest is history.”

  The waitress returned and set their plates down in front of them.

  “This looks delicious!” said Catt, tossing her festive mix of oranges, spinach, and avocado in her pork tenderloin salad. Jamal frowned. “What?” she asked, looking up at him.

  “Nothing, I just don’t eat pork, that’s all—beef, pork, none of that stuff that’s going to clog my heart in a few years.”

  “You’re a vegan?”

  “No, I do eat seafood, sometimes chicken. I just try to lay off the red meat.”

  “I didn’t know you were so health-conscious.”

  “Add that to the growing list of things you don’t know about me.”

  Catt bit into her salad. “I understand your wanting to protect your heart, but believe me—some things are worth having a heart attack! This is one of them.” She took a moment to savor the taste and gestured her head toward his plate. “Of course, you’re not faring too much better over there with all of that cheese and mushroom sauce smothered across your polenta.”

  She swallowed her food. “So was it Meka?” goaded Catt.

  “Was who Meka?”

  “The woman who broke your heart.”

  “I thought that we weren’t going to talk about that,” he reminded her while slicing his food.

  “You thought wrong.”

  Jamal sighed and set down his fork and knife. “Dang, you’re getting all up in my business today, aren’t you?”

  “You’re the one who said that we needed to have a get-to-know-you session, so this is all a part of my getting to know you. Now, back to my question, if it wasn’t Meka, then who was it that broke your heart?”

  “I don’t want to talk about that right now. Next question, please.”

  Catt thought for a moment. “Are you happy?”

  Jamal looked down at his plate. “I don’t know.”

  “Why not?”

  “Happiness is one of those metaphysical things. There’s no one answer. Am I happy right now? Yeah, for the most part, but that could change five minutes from now. There’s no set answer.”

  “I think there is,” asserted Catt. “You’re right; happiness can be fleeting. Joy, the kind that comes from the Lord, is always present.”

  “I have yet to experience that. Then again, I’m positive I’ve gone through some things that you have yet to experience.”

  “Are you about to reveal one of your many secrets?” inquired Catt.

  “I don’t have secrets, I have skeletons. In fact, my skeletons have skeletons!”

  “Now I’m really intrigued.” At that moment, the waitress came over and asked if they wanted anything else. They both declined.

  “Are you sure that you don’t want anything else?” asked Jamal after she left.

  “I do have a figure to watch. I’ve got to admit, though, a little of that chocolate hazelnut tart would hit the spot right about now.”

  “Why don’t you order one? If you feel guilty about the calories, you can work it off later. There’s a gym inside the hotel.”

  “It’s tempting, but I can’t. Chocolate always goes right to one place on me,” she said, balling up her napkin.

  “Where’s that?” he asked, smiling.

  “I’m sitting on it.”

  He tilted his head to the side. “Well, from what I’ve seen, the chocolate has been doing its job.”

  “I thought you didn’t find big girls attractive.”

  “I don’t, and I never said that the chocolate was doing a good job.” He drew his hands up in mock defense. “I’m teasing, okay? Don’t shoot me!”

  “Contrary to what you think, I can take a joke, Jamal.” She bit her lip. “Besides, I look in the mirror. I know I need to lose some weight.”

  “I think you need to be healthy, but lose the weight—don’t lose yourself in the process.”

  “But I guess a man like you goes for the skinny-minny variety.”

  “She doesn’t have to be a skinny minny although I do have a penchant for modelesque.”

  “Haven’t you ever heard the phrase ‘bigger is better’?”

  “It depends on what’s bigger.” Catt shot him a look of contempt.

  “Don’t look at me like that! Do you mean to tell me that you have no standards when it comes to looks in the opposite sex?”

  “No.”

  “So you’d date anyone from a midget weighing twenty pounds to a giant weighing in at 400?”

  “Yes, as long as his heart is right.”

  “Don’t you think it’s important to be physically attracted to someone?”

  “I think it’s important to be spiritually attracted.”

  Jamal groaned. “Cue Pastor Cason . . .”

  “Well, it’s true. You can marry the most beautiful woman in the world, but if the relationship does nothing to feed your spirit, what do you really have?”

  “The most beautiful woman in the world!” he pointed out.

  Catt looked at him with pity. “And that’s what’s truly sad. For all of your degrees and expertise and worldly wisdom, you’re still one of the dumbest Negroes I know!”

  Chapter 14

  “These roads seem to go on forever,” whined Catt, looking out of the window as Jamal drove them toward what seemed to be the middle of nowhere.

  “According to the GPS, we should hit civilization in about an hour or so.” Jamal’s phone beeped, indicating an incoming text message. “Can you check that for me?”

  “It’s from Oni.” She read the message. “She wants you to e-mail her the spec numbers or something like that. She says she deleted it by mistake.”

  “Okay, scroll through my phone and click on my e-mail account and forward the e-mail from Oni. It should have yesterday’s date on it,” instructed Jamal.

  Catt began scrolling through the phone. “I see it.” She forwarded the e-mail to Oni. The phone beeped again. “You’ve got another text. You want me to check it?”

  “Yeah, it’s probably Oni again to let me know she got it.”

  Catt looked at the message. A look of disgust swept over her face. “Eww, what is this?” she squealed. She held up the phone, which had a picture of a woman spread eagle on the screen.

  He glanced at the picture with a simper. “You came equipped with one, so you know what it is. A more app
ropriate question would be whose it is.”

  “According to the message attached to it, it’s yours.” Catt frowned. She scanned through the other pictures in his phone, which included more naked and scantily clad women in various poses. “Do these women have no shame?”

  “Why should they be ashamed of their bodies?”

  “I didn’t say they should be ashamed of their bodies, but they should be ashamed to send their genitals via text message.”

  “What’s wrong with taking some sexy pics? It’s fun.”

  “No, it’s sleazy, and it’s trashy.”

  Jamal smacked his teeth and eyed her with skepticism. “So you’ve never taken or received some buck-naked pictures?”

  “No. That’s disgusting. I don’t like porn.”

  “It’s not porn. It’s . . . celebrating your sexuality.”

  “Are you serious? In this day and age, a picture like that could end up on the Internet or get forwarded to the wrong person. Before you know it, the whole world will know things only your gynecologist is supposed to be privy to!”

  “You have to be selective about who you send them to, and if they’re really racy, you don’t put your face in the shot.”

  She rejected either option. “I don’t need coaching in proper naked picture etiquette, thank you very much.”

  He snatched his phone back from her and began dialing. “You’re way too uptight, Catt. What’s so terrible about embracing your sexuality and injecting a little fun into your life?”

  “I try to live holy, Jamal. Taking nasty pictures and sending them to my friends isn’t part of that process.” Her phone vibrated. She checked it and her eyes widened to the size of saucers. She abruptly ejected the phone from her hands. “Eww!”

  Jamal howled, laughing.

  Catt looked down at the image on the phone in horror and a little fascination. “Oh my God, is that you?”

  Jamal nodded. “Impressive, isn’t it?”

  Catt covered her hands with her face. “Oh my God, why did you send me that? Why didn’t you warn me?” She let down the window. “I think I’m going to be sick!”

  Jamal laughed again. “Lighten up, C.C. I’m just having a little fun with you, that’s all.”

  “Watching me suppress the urge to throw up through my eyeballs is your idea of fun? Why would you think my definition of fun would be getting flashed by pictures of your . . . package! Why do you even walk around with that in your phone?”

  “For moments like this,” he retorted.

  “Is this what you show women when you meet them? Is giving a woman your business card considered passé now?”

  “It’s my way of giving ’em something to look forward to.”

  Catt shook her head piteously. “You’re such a pervert!”

  Jamal took his eyes off the road for a moment to watch her. “Look at you all out of breath over there. Are you in shock or intrigued?”

  “Are you kidding me? That’s way more of you than I ever wanted to see.” She picked up the phone and promptly hit Delete. But not before taking one last glimpse. “Now, we can pretend that never happened, although I’m afraid that image may be permanently burned into my brain.”

  “Catt, every woman I know has taken at least one naughty picture of herself. You really need to try it. It’s liberating.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “And exactly who would I be taking it for?”

  “For you! It’s an ego boost, like saying to the world, ‘Yeah, I’m sexy, and I know it!’”

  She shot her nose in the air. “I’m not that vain. Not to mention that I don’t like looking at myself naked.”

  Jamal seemed shocked. “Why not?”

  “Jamal, come on.” She sighed. “You said yourself that I’m not what you’d consider modelesque.”

  “It doesn’t matter what I think. I’m just some dude you work with. What matters is what you think.”

  “I don’t think I’m ugly or anything like that. I just don’t feel all that sexy, not with this extra weight on me,” she confided to him.

  “You can look good naked at any size. It’s all about attitude.” He thought for a moment. “I’ll tell you what. When we check into the hotel, I want you to go into the bathroom, take all your clothes off, and take some pictures. I guarantee it’ll give you a whole new lease on life.”

  Her mouth flew open. “Are you serious?”

  “Shoot, yeah! It’ll do you some good to tap into your inner Playboy bunny.”

  “I think I’ll pass on that one. Once we check in, I intend to take a long, hot shower, finish reading Proverbs, and go to bed.”

  “Catt, I admire your commitment to Christ and holy living, I really do, but you’ve got to live a little sometimes. I keep telling you, there’s a whole life outside the church and the office.”

  “I know that!” she snapped.

  “Then act like it! While you’re taking that shower, go on and take a picture.”

  “No, thanks. I’m not in the habit of doing things that I know I’m going to regret later.”

  “Don’t say I never tried to help you bring sexy back,” said Jamal.

  Catt dozed off. When she awakened, Jamal was taking their luggage out of the truck and preparing to check into the hotel.

  She stuck her head through the window and called to him. “You need some help?”

  “I got it. Why don’t you go on and get the room keys. I’ll catch up with you in the lobby.”

  After getting them checked into separate rooms and agreeing to meet for dinner in the hotel’s restaurant in an hour, Catt and Jamal parted ways.

  Once in the room, Catt stripped down and turned the shower’s hot water on full blast. She scrubbed away the grime and dirt of the day and emerged from the shower feeling like a new woman.

  Catt caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror as she toweled off. She looked directly into the mirror, then turned for a profile view. Her body wasn’t perfect, but her skin was smooth and tight. She admired the structure of her arms—thick but not flabby—and the roundness of her breasts. Her thighs had a little cellulite on them, but that was okay. She’d always loved her shapely golden legs, which hardly ever required shaving. No one could argue that she had a pretty face. She smiled at the image in the mirror. She actually looked good naked, good enough for a picture even.

  Catt stealthily reached over to her phone lying on the sink. The thought of taking nude pictures was exhilarating, like running naked through the sprinkler.

  She angled the cell phone in the mirror to take the most flattering position of herself. But she was nervous, and the first few shots came out too blurry. Eventually, with a steady hand, she’d taken one that didn’t look half bad. It was kind of sexy. She was kind of sexy.

  She posed in seductive positions like the women on Jamal’s phone. Catt decided to take her newfound confidence and sexiness a step further. It was risky, but she was in that kind of mood. She snapped a picture of herself with her towel draped over her private parts but still revealing enough skin to know she wasn’t wearing anything else. She went to “recent” on her phone and hit Jamal’s number, giggling like a schoolgirl as she sent the picture to him. She figured he would get a kick out of the picture and even more, that she had the nerve to follow through with taking it. The giggles, however, quickly turned to gasps when the phone registered a message that read “Successfully sent to Daddy.”

  “What? No!” she cried. She frantically searched through the phone trying to see what went wrong. It soon became apparent that her nervous hand accidentally pressed her father’s name instead of Jamal’s.

  “Oh my God! Oh, Jesus! This is not happening!” she wailed. She glanced at the picture again and cringed when she thought about what her father’s reaction would be to seeing it.

  Catt threw on a T-shirt and jeans and hightailed it to Jamal’s room across the hall. She banged on the door with the force of a SWAT team.

  Jamal swung open the door. “Are you crazy? What�
�s wrong with you, beating on my door like that?”

  Catt shoved him aside and barged into the room. “You’re such as idiot, Jamal! I can’t believe I listened to you!”

  “What?”

  Catt slammed the door shut. “I took those stupid pictures like you told me to.”

  Jamal beamed and gave her two thumbs-up. “Good for you! So what’s the problem?”

  She huffed and puffed as she paced the floor. “I knew listening to you could only result in disaster!”

  “Calm down! Why you got your panties all in a bunch?”

  She snorted. “That’s a little hard to do considering that I wasn’t wearing any!”

  Jamal sat down on the bed. “Now, you’ve got me really interested. What happened?”

  Catt took a deep breath. “Like I said, I took the freakin’ pictures!”

  “And?” he pushed.

  She sat down next to him. “And I tried to send one to you—just for laughs, that’s it!”

  His eyes bulged. “For real?” He promptly began scrolling through his phone.

  She covered her face with her hands, mortified. “Except I sent it to my dad by mistake!”

  Jamal roared with laughter. “You did what?”

  “I was nervous and hit the wrong name,” explained Catt. She fumed watching him laugh. “Shut up, Jamal! It’s not funny!”

  “You’re right. It’s hilarious!”

  She punched him in the arm. “This is all your fault, you know.”

  “Wait a minute. I only told you to take the pictures. I didn’t say anything about sending them.”

  “I guess I got caught up in the moment,” said Catt in a small voice.

  Jamal grinned at her. “But it felt good, didn’t it?”

  “Yeah, it did,” she admitted—“until I realized I sent pictures of my breasts to my father. I feel completely humiliated right now.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about it. Just tell him your phone was hacked or something.”

  “You want me to lie?”

  “Do you want to tell him the truth? That you were taking freaky pictures to send to me?”

  Catt thought it over. “You have a point. Perhaps honesty isn’t the best policy in this case,” she conceded.