Not His Type

by Canton, Chamein

  She covered the receiver. “I’ll be there in a minute, E.D.” Her patience had worn a little thin.

  “Okay.” He walked out.

  She uncovered the receiver. “Sorry about that.” “It sounds like they need you. I’ll let you go.” “I’m sorry. The natives really are getting restless.” “I’ll call you later, okay?”

  “Sure. Good luck tonight.”

  “Thanks. You’ll be watching?”

  “I never miss a game.”

  He smiled. “Have a good afternoon meeting.” “Thanks.” She smiled. “Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  As soon as Marcus flipped his phone shut, Ben handed him a bat.

  “You’re up.”

  “Thanks, man.” He smiled and jogged to the batter’s cage.

  Then Mark jogged back into the dugout and patted Ben on the back. “So Mr. Agent, in your opinion is this a twenty-four hour bug or what?”

  “To tell you the truth, I think this one might be a keeper.”

  The two men watched a smiling Marcus in the batter’s cage.

  “I think you might be right, Ben. This one bears watching.”

  v

  Two hours after the staff meeting Cathy managed to take the last off peak train home. Staring out the window, her mind drifted to lunch and Marcus Fox. A part of her wanted to dwell on and enjoy the moment, but the other part was deathly afraid of getting her hopes up. She was afraid to get happy. It wasn’t so much a case of Murphy’s law as it was about being punished by God for leaving the church.

  According to her former church, anyone who left the fold was like a dog that returned to its vomit. Whether or not God intended the reference to be used in this manner, it was a graphic and effective guilt tactic pulled from the pages of the New Testament. She could expect no blessings to come her way due to her disobedience. As a result, Cathy always waited for the other shoe to drop. Today, however, Cathy made an exception. She was buzzed without one sip of alcohol. She’d had a shot of Marcus Fox straight with no chaser and she was unapologetically on cloud nine when the train stopped at her station. Dreamy-eyed, she walked through the parking lot to her car. Just as she turned the ignition she closed her eyes and recalled his gorgeous light eyes and slim muscular build. I could just eat him up. She sighed. God, his butt was even cuter in person, if that’s humanly possible. The sound of a car horn blaring jolted her back into reality.

  “God! Give someone a chance to pull out, why don’t you?” she shouted. Car in gear, she nearly slammed into the car behind her, causing the other driver to recoil. “Serves you right, you donkey,” she huffed.

  Her cell phone rang. It was E.D. She composed herself. “Hey E.D., what’s the word?”

  “I talked to Patrick and he says we’ll have an official offer later today.”

  Cathy was delighted “That’s great news. Have you told Tim yet?”

  “I just did and he’s going to call the Jacksons himself.”

  “Good. He deserves to make this call. I’m just so glad it worked out.”

  “Makes two of us.” He breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Okay, we’ll talk later.”

  “Okay, Cathy.”

  That was just the kind of news Cathy needed to hear. The Chambers-Smith Agency now had 25 writers with publishing contracts. Flying high, she caught her second wind in time for a quick trip to the supermarket.

  A bit of a bon vivant, Cathy picked up a few things for the evening menu. She bought organic butter, shallots, jumbo shrimp, basil, fresh-made pasta, mixed salad greens, Pellegrino, light cream, prime aged parmesan cheese from Italy and a large bag of Kona coffee beans. It was just enough to fit in one bag. Now that her sons were away at college, she had to lug the grocery bags into the house. Just as Cathy was putting things away, the house phone rang.

  “Hello?” Balancing a bag of shrimp, salad, basil and butter, Cathy struggled to keep the phone to her ear.

  “Hey, Cathy,” Madison said.

  “Hi, Madison, hold on for a minute.”

  “Sure.”

  She set everything down on the counter. Cathy knew Madison never had much in the way of groceries in his house, unless she counted his 9 1/2 Weeks stash. The call was about dinner so she put it out there first.

  “So you want to come to dinner tonight?”

  “Oh, you’re inviting me over for dinner?” He tried to act surprised. “I accept. What are we having?”

  “Whatever I make for dinner since you don’t cook and your harem is kitchen impaired as well.”

  “That’s not entirely true; some of them are quite good in the kitchen.”

  “Getting busy on the butcher- block table doesn’t count as a culinary skill,” she shot back.

  “Maybe not but it sort of rhymes with culinary.”

  Image flashing in her mind, Catherine grabbed her stomach. “This is a first. A Maalox moment before dinner. You sure know how to ruin an appetite.”

  “Ha. Very funny.”

  “Listen I’m hot, tired and I just walked in from the store. I’ll see you a little later. Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  Cathy glanced at the clock as she put the shopping bag in the recycle bin. I guess Madison wrapped his pillaging up early. She giggled to herself. When they were teenagers Cathy always said Madison was going to be a lawyer or a gynecologist. For her part, she was glad he’d gone into law.

  Cathy felt a twinge in her back when she reached down to get a saucepan and she gingerly straightened. The twinge served as a reminder of a car accident she’d had years ago. Hit by a drunk driver, she had been fortunate to walk away with minor cuts and bruises. The real damage to her back was invisible then, but as she’d gotten older she’d had to deal with more nagging aches and pains.

  Erring on the side of caution, Cathy put cooking aside for the time being and headed to her room to take a couple of Advil. Back aching, she climbed the stairs as if she were scaling Mount Kilimanjaro. Finally reaching the second floor, Cathy smiled as she passed the autographed poster on Alex and Andrew’s bedroom door. The cold air wafted over her as she opened her bedroom door. Thank God for central air. Advil popped, Cathy kicked off her shoes and shimmied out of her dress and into her favorite Thurman Munson shirt and lounge pants. She had a few hours before the game to get dinner ready.

  CHAPTER 4

  Game time was near. Players, sports reporters and commentators milled around the field and the clubhouse. The pre-game show was underway and with the pennant race around the corner, they were looking for stories. Although there wasn’t much dirt to be had at home games, a few tabloid reporters hung around searching for back room scenes or liaisons.

  It wasn’t a total waste though, of tabloid reporters’ time. Single players were often easy fodder. Tabloids paid good money to get the story of their latest paramour with pictures. Most people thought a high profile single baseball player shouldn’t have any trouble meeting women. The truth was somewhat different. Baseball was their life for six to eight months of the year, counting spring training. So they had limited options and sometimes got involved with someone who was simply convenient. Such had been the case with Marcus’s involvement with a local sports reporter.

  Barbara Ann Jones, a sports reporter with the number one news program in New York stood near third base as she gave her report. A petite brown-eyed, brunette beauty, she and Marcus had dated for a few months before deciding they were just friends.

  The 6’2 native Californian and second baseman, Tim Dugan, pointed to the television. “Hey look, Barbara’s on.” Everyone looked up but Marcus.

  “Wait. Are my eyes deceiving me?” Tim was incredulous.

  “I’ve seen her on television before.” Marcus was dismissive.

  “Didn’t you guys date at one time?”

  “That was a while ago. We’re just friends now.”

  Tim looked again at the television. “She’s something to look at. Not that I’m looking at her in that way. I’m married but I’m not blind,
” he joked.

  “We know. Just don’t say it too loud. Tabloid reporters and their sources are everywhere,” Mark warned.

  Tim turned to Marcus. “It’s nice that you guys are still friends.”

  Marcus nodded. “I think so, too. She’s a great person.”

  Catcher Juan Lopez walked over from his locker. “So which model is it?” Juan asked. He and Marcus had signed with the Yankees the same year.

  Marcus played cool. “What do you mean, which model is it?”

  “Come on, man, you must have traded up,” Juan insisted.

  “He just met someone,” Mark interjected.

  Marcus flashed Mark a dirty look.

  “I knew it,” Juan said excitedly.

  Marcus was quickly surrounded by the infield players.

  “She isn’t a model, actress or singer,” Marcus said.

  “She isn’t?” John Ames seemed quite shocked.

  “You don’t have to sound so surprised. I don’t just date models, actresses and singers,” Marcus insisted.

  The clubhouse broke into a roar of laughter. John Ames, the good-natured first baseman, patted him on the back. Tall and plagued with injuries in the beginning of the season, John was back in the groove with a hitting streak.

  “Thanks, man, I needed a good laugh,” he grinned.

  “Okay, guys, that’s enough. We need to leave the captain alone,” Mark piped up.

  “Okay, we’ll stop giving you a hard time,” Juan said.

  Marcus sat down in front his locker. “Thanks.”

  Tim waited a couple of minutes before approaching Marcus again. “So what does she do?” Tim asked.

  “She’s a managing partner of a literary agency,” Marcus said.

  “Oh, she’s a smart girl.” John stopped. “Not that the other girls weren’t,” he quickly added.

  “I know what you mean, John.” Marcus nodded his head.

  “Is she here?” Mark asked.

  “No. I’m thinking of asking her to our next afternoon game.”

  “You should go for it.”

  He thought about it for a second. “You know what, Mark, I think I will. I’ll be right back.”

  He left the clubhouse.

  Marcus had a plan and he needed to talk to Ben, who was talking to someone outside the general manger’s office.

  “Excuse me, Ben. Do you have a minute?” he asked. Ben excused himself. “What’s up?”

  “You didn’t have to end your conversation. I could have waited a few minutes.”

  “That’s okay, we were just shooting the breeze. What’s on your mind? Or should I say, who’s on your mind?”

  Marcus smiled. “It’s a little of both actually. I’m going to invite Cathy to tomorrow’s afternoon game and I’d like you to set her up in the Hall of Fame Suite for me.”

  “You don’t want much, do you?” Ben said facetiously.

  “Do you think you could arrange it for tomorrow afternoon?”

  “Consider it done.”

  Marcus smiled and patted Ben on the back. “Thanks, man. I knew I could count on you.”

  v

  Madison finished the last bit of wine. “Great dinner, Cathy.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Now I guess Madison can load the dishwasher,” Anna suggested.

  Madison looked dumbfounded. “I’m a guest.”

  “Guest my behind. Load the dishwasher.” Anna laughed.

  “I’ll do it after I finish my wine.”

  “Fine.” Anna turned to Cathy. “How was your day?”

  “Interesting.”

  “What’s going on in the world of publishing?” Madison asked.

  “We got an offer for the auto book today.”

  “Good, I know you’re relieved. Those folks left you messages practically every day,” Anna said.

  “Oh, that’s the Jackson thing you were working on, right?” Madison asked.

  “Right. I’m not sure about the details yet but at least we have something concrete on the table.” Cathy swirled the wine in her glass. “How about you, Anna?”

  “Now that we’ve been auditing school districts, things are really getting interesting. I didn’t find anything monumental today, but it’s still early.” She smiled.

  “How’s life in the world of matrimonial law?” Cathy asked.

  “Not bad. Today we did half a dozen depositions and filed court papers in a few different counties. Other than that, nothing out of the ordinary.”

  “Speaking of out of the ordinary, how was lunch with Jim?” Anna asked. “I’m sure he’s as neurotic as ever.”

  “Jim is Jim. Anyway, I didn’t have lunch with Jim. He couldn’t make it.”

  “So I hope you went anyway,” Madison added.

  “Did I mention he called to cancel when I was at the restaurant?”

  “That wasn’t nice,” Madison said.

  “No, but that’s Jim. He means well but sometimes he’s easily distracted. I didn’t sweat it.”

  “Still, it’s not fair. Your time is valuable,” Anna said like a true accountant.

  Before she could stop it, Cathy had a Kool-Aid grin on her face.

  Anna looked puzzled. “What are you smiling about?” “Nothing. It’s silly.”

  Madison looked serious. “Cathy, you don’t do silly.”

  She hesitated for a minute. “Well, if you must know, I saw Marcus Fox at lunch.”

  Anna looked skeptical. “You just saw him at lunch? There is no way that grin has anything to do with just seeing Marcus Fox in a restaurant. There’s got to be more to it.”

  “Okay, so I met him.”

  Madison’s eyes widened. “You met him? I don’t follow baseball but I know he’s a legend when it comes to women.” He was impressed

  Anna scoffed. “Down, boy!”

  “You know a guy mistook me for him in court once,” he boasted.

  “How many times have I told you the guy was trying to pick you up, Madison?”

  “The guy really thought I was him, Anna,” he said defiantly.

  “Marcus Fox is about 6’4, tight and muscular. His complexion is like coffee with extra cream, extra heavy cream,” Cathy observed.

  “So? What’s your point, Cathy?”

  “I’m 5’8 and I’m a good six inches shorter than him, which makes you eight inches shorter than the Marcus Fox.”

  Anna laughed. “I rest my case, counselor.”

  “You two are some mean heifers,” he huffed.

  “Hey, Cuz, if having a guy try to pick you up is one of your hall of fame moments, more power to you,” Anna snapped and pointed to Madison.

  “Oh, shut up. This isn’t about me anyway. It’s about her meeting Mr. Fox.”

  “That’s right. We got off track. So how did you meet him?” Anna asked.

  “He bought me lunch.”

  “He bought you lunch?” Madison echoed.

  “Yes. Only I didn’t know about it until the waiter told me.”

  Anna’s mind was at work. “So he just bought you lunch out of the blue like that?”

  “I know it sounds strange but it’s true.”

  Madison thought for a minute, then tapped his temple. “Now I remember. You wore your Yankee blue dress today.”

  “So?”

  “So, it’s a v-neck dress that shows off your girls there.” He pointed in her breasts’ direction. “I’ll be damned, Marcus Fox is a breast man.”

  “I think you’re right for once, Madison,” Anna added.

  Cathy moved right along. “Be that as it may, he bought my lunch. We talked for a few minutes and he asked for my business card and home number. End of story.”

  She conveniently left out the part about Marcus’s call to her at the office earlier. Cathy just sipped her wine as the two of them looked at her in silence.

  “Are you two all right?”

  “I can’t believe how nonchalant you’re acting. You met the Marcus Fox and he asked you for your number. This is huge,�
� Anna said excitedly

  “Why is it huge, Anna? He’s not going to call. He was just being polite.”

  Anna looked disgusted with her. “Madison, since you’re a player, I think you should school this one.”

  “Listen, Cathy. He asked you for your home number. When a guy is interested in a booty call thing, he just takes your cell number. If he wants to know something like your business number and home phone, then he’s interested in you.”

  “Is that why you only get cell numbers now?” Cathy’s inquiring mind wanted to know.

  “Hey, I’m a divorce attorney. I learned my lesson after my own divorce. You remember what Theresa was like.”

  “That woman put the W in witch,” Anna quipped.

  “That woman totally singed my mind and soured me on relationships. Screwing without strings is much less complicated.”

  “Is that why you date in quantity as opposed to quality?” Anna asked.

  “As long as you haven’t plowed through the Eastern Seaboard.” Cathy qualified his mission statement.

  “I’ve had enough high maintenance relationships to last me two lifetimes. I have no intention of screwing and trying to please any more Martha Stewarts.”

  “Martha Stewarts?” they chorused, puzzled at the choice of words.

  “You know, the type of woman who gives directions on the things you can and cannot do in bed. Screwing goes something like this: Would you prefer I call it a penis or use the ‘d’ word? I’m not using the ‘c’ word. You’re an educated native Easterner so we’ll use the correct terminology, which is penis. Let’s begin. First you enter me. Good. Now move two centimeters to the left and you’ll find my clitoris, but remember, only go two centimeters and not two and a half. Wonderful! Now with three successive circular motions followed quickly by three counter-clockwise circular motions, work your hips and this will coax a delighted moan from me. Feel free to make a similar, not loud, moan. Next, position your hips slightly parallel to mine and continue with thrusting while maintaining the clitoral angle we established when we commenced screwing. This will result in heightening my enjoyment while giving you the pleasure and privilege of pleasing me. It’s a good thing.”

  Anna and Cathy had tears streaming down their faces they laughed so hard.