Not His Type

by Canton, Chamein

  She was taken aback. “My home number?”

  “Yes, if you don’t mind. I promise I won’t write it on the wall of the clubhouse.”

  She laughed, then realized he was serious. Oh my God. He really wants my home number. What’s the harm in giving it to him? He’s not going to use it. She figured it couldn’t get any more surreal than it already was. “It’s 631-555-9864.”

  He jotted the number down. “I’ll be giving you a call sooner rather than later.” He winked.

  The butterflies in her stomach moved. “Okay. By the way, thanks for lunch and dessert.”

  “My pleasure.” His eyes were so intense Cathy was a little unsettled.

  They shook hands. Cathy watched him as he walked over to Ben.

  From his position Ben had watched Marcus interact with the lovely lady in the blue dress. He’d been around the block a few times with Marcus’s dating/love life and knew the type of women he usually went for. And a full-figured woman was definitely outside his zone. What do you know, Marcus might actually be growing up, he thought.

  Marcus walked up to Ben. “Are you ready to bounce?” Marcus said as he slipped her business card in his wallet.

  “Sure. Are you ready? I thought you might want to spend a little more time with…”

  “Catherine Chambers,” Marcus filled in. “Catherine Chambers, literary agent.”

  “Impressive.”

  “I thought so too.”

  A young boy walked over and interrupted the conversation.

  “Excuse me?” The little voice asked.

  Marcus looked down. “Hi there. What’s your name?”

  The little boy tried to quell his excitement. “Kevin.”

  Marcus stooped down and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Kevin. I’m Marcus Fox.”

  The little boy giggled with delight. A breathless woman appeared. “There you are, Kevin.” She let out a sigh of relief. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  “Sorry, Mom. I wanted to get Mr. Fox’s autograph.”

  “I’m sure Mr. Fox doesn’t have time for that.”

  “No, ma’am, that’s quite all right. Where’s your camera?”

  His mother produced her cell phone.

  “Terrific.” He handed the camera phone to Ben. “Take a picture of the three of us, Ben.”

  “Sure.”

  “Do you know how to use the cell phone camera?” Marcus asked jokingly.

  Ben ignored him and took a couple of pictures. He handed the phone back to Kevin.

  “Thanks, Mr. Fox.”

  “Not a problem.”

  “Have a good game.”

  “Thanks, Kevin.”

  As Marcus and Ben walked out, Marcus turned to Ben. “Why don’t the photographers ever print those pictures?”

  “Pictures like that don’t pay the bills, my friend.”

  From her table Cathy admired how graciously Marcus treated his fans. She was tickled that he’d asked her for her number, despite having had to call him on the boob stare. Deep down she thought, There’s no way he’s going to call, but it sure felt good to give him my digits. She could hear her sons moaning now. ‘MOM! Digits is so lame.’

  Suddenly she was hit with a thought. I didn’t think I had a snowball’s chance in hell of actually meeting Marcus Fox, yet I met him today.He asked for my phone number, and I gave it to him. She rubbed her forehead. What have I gotten myself into?

  Cathy checked her watch. It was time to bounce if she wanted to make it to the staff meeting on time. Even though the office was a relatively short walk from Keen’s, she hailed a cab.

  Cathy got in the cab and stared out the window.Will he call? If he does, what will I say or do? Every question begot another and soon she had her head spinning.

  “Miss?” the cabbie said.

  She came back to earth. “I’m sorry.”

  “You’re here.”

  “Oh thank you.” She jumped out and paid the cabbie. “Keep the change.”

  “Thanks, lady.”

  Cathy paused outside. It’s time to get serious. I have to leave all this Marcus stuff on the curb. Entering, she passed the reception desk and pressed the button for the elevator. It’s all about work and nothing else. Besides, why should I worry? There’s no way he’ll call. I read the papers. He dates women with legs that start at their shoulders. I’m definitely not his type.

  CHAPTER 3

  As the managing partner of the Chambers-Stevens Literary Agency, Cathy’s name went first on the stationery. More importantly, she was more hands on with the clients and publishers.

  When Cathy arrived, the office had been in full swing since eight thirty. The office manager, Sylvia, opened around eight every day to enjoy the calm before the neuroticism level rose significantly. A tall, full-figured girl from the South, Sylvia made the office run like a well-oiled machine. Stationed near the entrance, she was the first one Cathy saw.

  “Good afternoon, Sylvia.”

  She looked up from her computer. “Afternoon, Catherine. How are you?”

  “I’m good. Do I have any messages?”

  Sylvia handed her two message slips. “One is from

  Jennifer and the other is from Steven’s editor. She called early this morning.”

  “I’ve already spoken with both of them today.”

  “You can’t resist dealing with the office stuff at home.”

  “It’s kind of hard to avoid when you have a home office. I used to have the kids’ activities as a buffer, but now that they’re in college it’s full metal jacket.”

  “At least the Yankees make you happy, most of the time. Did you see Mr. Fox last night?”

  Reggie, one of their interns, walked over to Sylvia’s desk. “Talking about the Yankees’ win, I bet.” He grinned.

  “Of course. My men in pinstripes pulled it out,” Cathy chimed.

  Reggie, a Mets fan, shook his head. “You Yankee fans with your roster of stars are something else.”

  “Don’t talk to me about stars; you know my position on that.” That was the one place she and the Yankees’ boss differed: He was star struck and she believed in growing players.

  Reggie conceded, “Well it was the farm system players who did their thing last night.”

  “That’s right. Just look at the history. Mickey Mantle and Maris to name two. All the great players come from the farm system.”

  “Including Mr. Fox.” Sylvia raised her eyebrow.

  Cathy grinned like a Cheshire cat. Seeing him in person was her little secret for now. “He’s the man.”

  Sylvia chuckled. “You are a do or die fan.”

  “Most definitely. I find that my dad, my boys and the men in pinstripes rarely disappoint me. I can’t say that about most men.”

  “Ahem!” E.D cleared his throat as Reggie quickly scurried away.

  “Check that, Sylvia. I’ll add E.D to my short list.”

  “Thank you.”

  Cathy gave him a little peck on the cheek.

  “Feel better, my poor under-loved and under-appreciated baby?”

  Sylvia cracked up. “You two are too cute. Why don’t you just get married already?”

  “And ruin a perfectly good partnership? Nothing ruins a friendship quicker than sex.”

  “Amen to that, E.D.”

  “You two certainly seem married.”

  “We are married in a literary sense. What publishing has joined together let no man or woman pull apart,” E.D. expounded.

  Sylvia shook her head. “I don’t think that’s how the vows go.”

  “What do you expect, Sylvia? Neither E.D. nor I have been married in eons and it shows.”

  Cathy settled into her little nook and booted up her computer. Sylvia poked her head in.

  “Staff meeting at 2:15.”

  “Cool. Thanks.”

  “How was lunch with Jim?”

  “He didn’t show. I had lunch by myself.”

  Sylvia nodded her head. “You ate alone i
n the middle of a big restaurant? I don’t know how you do it.” Having been married for 20 years, dining alone was not a concept Sylvia got.

  “It’s no big deal. A girl’s gotta eat.”

  “True.” She paused. “You really don’t mind eating alone?” she pressed.

  Cathy shrugged it off. “I don’t mind at all.” Besides, I wasn’t alone for long. Before she could stop herself, she grinned.

  “What’s that little grin about?” Sylvia asked.

  Cathy played coy. “Nothing. I’m just in a good mood.” She changed the subject. “Is Michelle in?”

  Sylvia moved on. “Yes. I think she’s coming down here to see you. Something about Beatrice Collins and Sandra McCoy.”

  “Oh good God! They’re not at it again, are they?” Cathy cringed.

  “As a matter of fact, they are,” Michelle said as she leaned against the door.

  Michelle Young, their 40-year-old junior associate, had been one of Cathy’s closest friends since high school. An avid reader, she was just starting her second career after divorce. She was usually bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, but this afternoon she looked completely worn out.

  “I’m almost afraid to ask.”

  “You have no idea.” Michelle covered her eyes.

  “Oh yes I do. I’ve been in the middle of this author/publisher tug of war for two years and four bestsellers.”

  Beatrice and Sandra represent one of the most contentious publisher/author relationships Cathy had ever dealt with. Separately both women were sweethearts, but for some unexplained reason they occasionally rubbed each other the wrong way. Normally Cathy handled them, but she’d put Michelle on the case to strengthen her diplomatic chops.

  “Can you give me some tips on how to get oil and water to mix?”

  “You use Good Seasons and shake things up. Let Beatrice know that we’re prepared to go elsewhere. There are at least four other publishers of children’s books who are just chomping at the bit to sign Sandra. We had to play it Beatrice’s way in the beginning but now we have options and a contractual clause that allows us to shop.”

  “Brilliant.” Michelle beamed.

  “Listen, whether I’m working here or at home, if she gives you any more grief pass her on to me. I’ll handle it.”

  Michelle looked relieved. “Thank you. How in the world do you do this every day and still look unflappable?”

  “Just lucky I guess.” Cathy shrugged.

  Michelle stretched out on the sofa.

  “You look tired, Michelle. Rough night?”

  “Sort of.” She sighed. “Not in a bad way though.”

  “I take it you had a date.”

  “Yeah. I met him at one of those Big Beautiful Women events. He’s a real nice guy and a lot of fun.”

  Michelle usually kept Cathy in her dating loop; this time she’d played it close to the vest. “You stinker, you didn’t say a word.”

  “I didn’t want to jinx it. You know how I am.”

  “True. So how long have you been going out with him?”

  “About two months.”

  “And you didn’t think to tell one of your best friends?”

  “Sorry, but I didn’t want to hear any I told you so’s in case it didn’t work out.”

  “And?”

  “I think it’s getting serious.”

  “I’m so happy for you, that’s great.” Cathy smiled.

  “You should go to a BBW event; it’s great and really empowering.”

  Catherine had been around the block on this subject more than a couple of times. She could almost set the questions and comments to music.

  “I know. I’ve been to a few events. I met some great people and had a good time.”

  “There’s a but coming.”

  “There’s no but. I’m just not ready to date again.”

  Michelle sat up. “Come on, Cathy, it’s been at least a year since you broke up with Paul.”

  ”Two years. Almost three, really.”

  “All the more reason to get back out there. Your sons are in college and you’re still young. Live a little.”

  Cathy was getting a little irritated. “I’ll take it under advisement. Don’t you have a staff meeting to get ready for?”

  “Don’t you ever get lonely?” Michelle insisted.

  “That’s why God made chocolate, sleeping pills and double A batteries, thank you very much.”

  “Maybe. But there’s nothing like an energizer bunny of your very own.”

  Cathy laughed and tossed a paper clip at Michelle, which she quickly dodged.

  “Hey, it’s the truth,” Michelle laughed.

  “You should really get ready for the staff meeting. From the looks of E.D.’s memo this is going to be fun.”

  “I’m going. You’re not the boss of me, you know,” Michelle joked.

  “As a matter of fact, I am your boss.”

  “That’s right. Oops, my bad. Guess I’d better get ready for the staff meeting.”

  “Good idea.”

  v

  Back in the Bronx Marcus was about ready to take batting practice. Ben kept his eye on his star player who looked a little distracted.

  “Hey man, what’s going on?” Marcus’s teammate, Mark Vasquez, patted him on the back. Mark, a four time AllStar, was a bit of a sex symbol. A mix of African American and Latino blood, he had a beautiful light bronze complexion and slim, strong build that attracted the ladies in droves. Nevertheless, he was somewhat of an anomaly in sports: He was happily married.

  Marcus shook it off. “Nothing.”

  Mark knew better. He liked to subject Marcus to a little good-natured ribbing about his love life. “I’ve seen that look before. What’s her name?”

  Marcus tried to play it off. “What makes you think it’s a woman?”

  “Experience.”

  Marcus laughed. “It’s that obvious?”

  “To me it is. But then again, I’ve known you a long time now. So what gives?”

  “Nothing. I met a nice woman this afternoon. Her name is Cathy.”

  “Is she a model, actress or singer?”

  “None of the above. She’s a literary agent.”

  Mark looked impressed. “A literary agent? That’s interesting. But something tells me it wasn’t her brains that caught your eye.”

  Marcus tried to sound offended. “Is that all you think I look at?”

  Mark ignored his weak protest. “Yeah. I have to go by your track record. You’re a breast man. A worshipper at the temple of the breasts.”

  Marcus got a little annoyed. “All right already. Enough with sayings.” He paused. “There’s more to her than breasts.”

  Mark was game. “Okay. Describe her to me.”

  “She’s kind of tall, full-figured, with long red hair and sort of a caramel complexion. She’s very attractive.” Marcus paused to wait for a reaction.

  Mark didn’t give him the one he expected. “Smart and pretty, that’s a good combination.”

  “That’s all you have to say about it?”

  “Why should I say more?”

  “I thought you would trip over the full-figured part.”

  “Why should I trip over that? It’s not something that makes a difference to you, so why should it bother me?”

  Marcus felt a little ashamed of himself. “You’re right. So she’s full-figured. Big deal.”

  “It won’t be a big deal unless you make it into one,” Mark observed. “You approached her right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So there was something about her that drew you to her. Don’t sweat it. Enjoy it.”

  Marcus tied his sneakers. “She does have a lot of cute freckles on her face and her…” He stopped before he went further.

  Mark got the implication immediately. “She has freckles on her breasts, too, right?”

  He smiled. “Just one on her left breast.”

  Mark playfully pulled Marcus’s baseball cap down over his eyes. “You’re hopel
ess,” he joked as he walked away. “Call her. You know you want to.”

  Marcus thought about it and pulled his cell and her card from his jacket.

  v

  More than a little aware of how E.D. ran a staff meeting, Cathy kept meticulous notes on clients, publishing trends and publishers. While her printer shot out a few copies of the latest sales figures, she made some last minute additions.

  Sylvia poked her head in. “I’m heading in. Are you coming?”

  Cathy looked up. “Tell E.D. I’ll be there in a minute. I’m just getting some of my projections and trends together.”

  “Okay.”

  Just as she pulled the last sheet off the printer the phone rang. With everyone in the conference room Cathy answered the call.

  “Good afternoon, Chambers-Smith Agency.”

  “Hello, Cathy?”

  Cathy’s eyes got wide in a hurry. “Yes? Marcus?” “Hi.”

  “Hi.” Cathy was uncharacteristically speechless.

  “I just thought I would give you a call. I really enjoyed meeting you this afternoon.”

  “The feeling is mutual. How’s batting practice going?”

  “I haven’t actually taken it yet, but I’m sure it will be fine.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  Michelle knocked on her door.

  “Are you coming, Cathy? You know how E.D. gets.”

  “Would you hold for just a minute?”

  “Sure.”

  “Thanks.” Cathy pressed the hold button and handed Michelle the reports. “Tell E.D. I will join you in progress.”

  “Okay.” She turned and left.

  Cathy took Marcus off hold. “Sorry about that. I have a staff meeting this afternoon.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Am I keeping you from it?”

  “Yes, but I can afford to be a few minutes late. What’s the point of being a managing partner if you can’t arrive late to a meeting every now and again?”

  He laughed. “It must be nice to be the boss. You get the cool office and the big money.”

  Cathy was amused. “I do have a cool office but the big money is debatable. Maybe your boss has the big money.”

  “That’s the truth.”

  E.D. walked in. “Cathy, are you coming? You know I hate to begin the meetings without you.”