Not His Type

by Canton, Chamein

  He looked at his watch. “I would love to but I have another appointment in about 45 minutes”

  “Okay.”

  “See you next time, Marcus. Good work.”

  “Thanks.”

  Marcus stood in his big empty luxury apartment for a moment before he headed for the shower.

  v

  Cathy’s post workout treat was an extra large cup of coffee from Dunkin Donuts. She didn’t go for the coffee, per se. It was more about the people who worked there and the service. Her coffee was served light, sweet and ready to go without her uttering a word. If only she could find a boyfriend with the same talent in other areas her life would be perfect.

  When she got home, instead of making her usual pit stop in the kitchen, Cathy went straight upstairs to take a bath and figure out what to wear. Water running, she washed her face in the sink with her Olay facial cloths. Patting her face dry, she studied it up close for signs of a breaking out or errant facial hairs. They tell you forty is the new 30, but no one said a thing about facial hair, she thought. She zeroed in on two taunting hairs sticking out on her chin and plucked them. And people wonder why I carry a tweezer in my pocketbook. “I have to see the dermatologist soon. If I wait much longer I could wind up at the barber shop for a shave,” she muttered aloud.

  A little while later Cathy’s mind was racing and her nerves were shot as she slipped into warm bath water. She hadn’t been on a date in eons and frankly, she wasn’t sure if she remembered what to do or how to act. Despite not admitting to it in public, she’d glanced at the tabloid headlines, even read a few articles about Marcus’s love life. How could she help it? The man was a sex symbol and a baseball icon. Sure, Cathy sashayed with the best of them but she knew she wasn’t the norm for him. Marcus dated a parade of rail-thin beauties whose pouts added three pounds to their frames. Cathy fidgeted as the floodgates of insecurities over her size rushed over her. Then she got pissed with herself. After all, she’d fought hard to gain self-esteem and to finally love herself, weight, warts and all. In the past she’d never gone on a date with any expectations, so she’d avoided disappointment. Yet this date was different; it actually mattered. When she stepped out of the tub she knew all her calculated plans of self protection had gone down the drain with the bath water. Today she ran the risk of having her hopes dashed on the bleachers. Her heart betrayed her when it started to care about the outcome.

  Cathy beat her insecurities back long enough to get ready. She slipped into a sexy lace black bra and panty set with her Cat on a Hot Tin Roof full black slip. She wouldn’t go bare-legged; instead, she put on a pair of thigh highs and topped them off with a pair of strappy sandals. She held up two Marilyn Monroe type dresses against herself.

  “I didn’t know you were going back into the city today,” Anna said from the doorway, startling her.

  “I’m not.”

  “So why do you have those two dresses out if you’re not

  going somewhere?”

  “I didn’t say I wasn’t going out.”

  Anna stopped eating cereal out of the box. “You have a

  date?”

  “I’m going to the Yankee game if you must know.” “When did you get tickets for the game?”

  “I didn’t get tickets. “ She turned and held up both

  dresses. “Which one?”

  “The blue one.”

  “I thought it was a good choice too. Thanks.” “You’re not answering my question. How are you going

  to a game if you don’t have tickets?”

  “Anna, I don’t have time to sweat the small stuff. I have

  to get cleaned up and ready by the time the car gets here.” “By the time the car gets here? What car?”

  She tried to escape to her bathroom but Anna’s long legs

  were no match for her.

  “I said, what car?”

  Cathy was a bit peeved to have to share. “The car

  Marcus is sending for me.”

  Anna let out a scream.

  “Damn, girl! My ears!”

  “I thought you said you wouldn’t hear from him. When

  did he call?”

  “Last night after the game.”

  “Will wonders never cease?” Anna said rhetorically. “So

  did you guys make small talk or did he get right to the

  point?”

  “It was late but we talked for a little bit. Then he asked

  me about coming to the game.”

  Anna took a closer look at the blue dress Cathy planned

  to wear. “He must be taking you out afterwards; this isn’t

  your usual Yankee game gear.”

  She had a point. Cathy’s usual game gear consisted of a

  Yankee tee shirt, shorts or jeans and naturally a Yankee

  baseball cap.

  Cathy let out a heavy sigh. “As a matter of fact he is.

  Now, Anna, if you really want to see what happens you’re

  going to have to let me get the rest of my toiletries from the

  bathroom.”

  She stepped out of the way. “I wouldn’t want you to

  miss this.”

  “Thanks.”

  Cathy debated over whether to wear perfume. She’d

  gotten a gift set of Dolce and Gabanna’s Light Blue for her

  birthday in August. She’d joked it was the closest she’d ever

  get to Dolce and Gabanna anything, but the perfume was

  the perfect fit.

  Soft and sweet, she stumbled into her dress. It was ninefifteen. She had to move on to makeup.

  Anna opened the door. “Are you trying to kill yourself?” She buttoned the front of the dress. “I’m just a little off

  my game.”

  “What time is the car coming?”

  “Ten-thirty or possibly earlier.”

  “Then we have to get the lead out. Sit down. I’ll put the

  rest of your makeup on.”

  Cathy breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks. I already put

  my moisturizer on.”

  “How made up do you want to be?”

  “Enough so I’ll look good without too many reapplications.”

  “Can do.”

  Anna put a towel around her neck to protect the dress.

  Neither of them believed in a lot of makeup so it only took

  Anna 10 minutes and she was done.

  “There you go.” Anna stepped back to admire her

  work.

  Cathy looked in the mirror. “Looks good. Thanks.” “You’re welcome. What are you doing with your hair?” “I think I’ll wear it down. Or do you think up is

  better?”

  “What I think is you’re really nervous and you need to

  calm down.”

  “You’re right. I just have to breathe.”

  Cathy didn’t want it to seem that she was trying too

  hard, even if she was. She wore her hair down. It was the

  least fussy thing she could do. She looked at her reflection

  in the full length mirror. The dress accentuated her curves

  in all the right places. Even though Cathy called it her

  Marilyn Monroe dress, at 40DD she had the upper body of

  Jayne Mansfield.

  Her stomach in knots, Cathy tried to eat at least a piece

  of toast. She decided to forgo her usual, a large mug of coffee. She didn’t want to be running to the ladies room

  every five minutes.

  Anna peered out of the living room window in between

  pacing the floor. Pacing was a Chambers family trait.

  Whether on the phone or waiting to go somewhere, they

  were pacers. Just as Anna peered out the window again,

  Cathy walked in.

  “Don’t you have an audit this morning?” Cathy was

  puzzled.

  “Yes. It’s local. I can be there in 10 minutes.” “Oh.” Cathy paused to watch her
go to the window

  again. “You know a watched pot never boils.”

  “Gee, thanks for telling me, Mom,” she said sarcastically. “Wait. I think I see a limo.”

  “He’s not sending a limo. It’s probably just passing by.” Anna’s eyes widened. “Ha! I told you! It’s stopping right

  in front of the house.”

  He sent a limo, Cathy thought. “I need to make one last

  check of my bag.” She quickly grabbed her pocketbook. “Hurry up, the driver’s getting out of the car.” She rummaged through her bag to make sure she had

  all the essentials: breath mints, spasm medication, Advil

  and her Blackberry.

  Anna opened the door to a stately looking African

  American gentleman with silver hair. “Good morning. I’m

  here to pick up Ms. Chambers.”

  “She’ll be right out.”

  “Thank you.”

  She checked herself again in the hall mirror. “So do I

  look all right?”

  “You look great. Now go. Enjoy yourself,” Anna said. “Thanks.” She took a deep breath. “I’m off.” Cathy walked out to the waiting car. The driver held

  the door open for her. “Good morning, Ms. Chambers. My

  name is Louis.”

  “Good morning Louis. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” “Likewise.”

  “Do you need any help?”

  “No, thank you.” Cathy eased herself into the car.

  “See.” Thankfully her dress was long enough for her to

  scoot into the seat without any ‘I see England, I see France,

  I see Cathy’s underpants.’

  “Very good then. Just be comfortable we’ll be in the

  Bronx in no time. I hope.”

  He closed the door.

  CHAPTER 6

  After breakfast Marcus got ready to head over to the stadium. It was an early afternoon game set to start at one. Knowing he wanted to take Cathy out after the game, he took his Jag.

  Just as he neared the stadium his phone rang. “Hello?”

  “Mr. Fox? It’s Louis. I just wanted you to know that I

  picked up Ms. Chambers and we’re on our way in.” He smiled. “Good. How’s the traffic?”

  “We’re on Northern State and so far, so good.” “I guess you have to wait until you get closer to the

  city to see what traffic is really like.”

  “It looks that way.”

  “Okay, Louis. Good job. Thanks.”

  “It’s my pleasure, Mr. Fox.”

  Marcus pulled into the players’ lot. He breathed a sigh

  of relief to see there weren’t many tabloid reporters. Then out of the corner of his eye he spotted Lisa Spellman. Does this woman ever get tired? he thought to himself. Lisa, a freelance reporter, had been the bane of his love life’s existence almost from the moment he signed with the Yankees. One of her biggest scoops had come at his expense when she witnessed the scene where he and a former girlfriend broke up. She hadn’t been far away since. However, he’d learned to live with her presence. One could even say they were friendly.

  Hoping Marcus wouldn’t see her Lisa quickly ducked behind an SUV.

  Marcus laughed softly. “Hello, Lisa. No use in hiding, I saw you.”

  She stepped out and tried to be nonchalant about it. “Hi, Marcus, how are you?”

  “Fine, thank you. How are you?”

  She kicked the ground playfully. “Not bad. Is there anything new happening?”

  She walked with him to the door.

  “No.”

  She smiled. “Not that you would tell me if there was.”

  “You’re probably right about that,” he said with a wry grin before he opened the entrance door. “How’s Stanley?”

  “He’s good, thanks.” She backed off as he was about to enter. “Have a good game.”

  “Thanks. Tell Stan I said hello.”

  She saluted him. “Will do.”

  Marcus always wondered why on earth such an attractive and intelligent woman worked for gossip rags. It just didn’t make sense.

  Cruising through the hallway, Marcus saw Mark leaned up against the wall talking on his cell.

  Mark closed his phone. “How’s it going, man?” They gave each other a pound. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost or something.”

  “Lisa Spellman isn’t a ghost, she’s more of a shadow I can’t get rid of.”

  Mark nodded his head. “I have to give it to her for persistence. She’s like a pit bull with a bone.”

  “Don’t I know it?”

  “You’re the reason she’s got such a name in gossip.”

  Marcus looked agitated. “Listen, you don’t have to remind me. I lived through it.”

  Mark backed off; he knew that look all to well.

  Melvin Cain, one of the luxury suite attendants, approached them.

  “Hey Melvin.”

  “Hi, Mr. Fox. How are you?”

  “I’m not too bad. And you?”

  “I can’t complain.” He stopped. “Mr. Bradford tells me you have a guest today for the Hall of Fame Suite.”

  “I certainly do.”

  “Well, don’t worry about it. I’ll take good care of her, I promise.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “But I have a question for you.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Do you want me to bring her to the clubhouse to see you first and then take her up?” It was an honest question and one Mark was eager to hear the answer to.

  “No, that’s okay. Just take her up to the suite.”

  “Why?” Mark asked.

  Marcus turned to Mark. “Don’t you think that’s a little much for a first date?”

  Mark scoffed. “Well, let’s see. You had a car pick her up, you set her up in the Hall of Fame Suite and you have dinner reservations at Chanterelle. So you tell me, what’s one more thing?”

  Melvin had the good sense to retreat to a corner.

  “So you think I should bring her to the clubhouse. It will probably scare her to death.”

  “Come now, Marcus, have faith. Besides, she’s an agent. They don’t scare easy.”

  Marcus turned to Melvin. “Okay, Melvin, bring her to clubhouse first.”

  “Sure.” Melvin had the good sense to make a quick exit.

  Mark patted Marcus on the back. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  “No. Ask me again tomorrow.”

  v

  The celebrity treatment had its good and bad points. While she loved being chauffeured, it gave Cathy too much time to think. At least if she were driving she’d be distracted by construction delays and idiot drivers. Now she was stuck in the backseat with her own thoughts and expectations. It would be so easy for her to build up this afternoon into more than it was and for Cathy that spelled trouble. An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, she told herself as she administered the ultimate antidote, work. She dialed the office.

  “Good morning, the Chambers-Stevens Agency.” “Hey, Sylvia.”

  “Hi, Cathy.” She heard another line ring. “Could you

  hold on for just a second?”

  “Sure.”

  “Sorry about that. The phones are going crazy here

  this morning.”

  “That’s okay. Is E.D. available?”

  “Sure. I’ll put you right through.”

  “Thanks.”

  She was on hold for a minute. “Hey, Cathy,” E.D. said

  cheerfully.

  “What’s going on, E.D.?”

  “Not much at the moment. The phones are busy with

  status calls.”

  “It’s September. Every client comes out of the wood

  work now.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “In the meantime you have to check on Laurel

  Matthews, Janet Roberts and Lisa Todd. All three of them

  have projects in final edito
rial review.”

  “That’s right. I’ll have Sylvia pull their files to get the

  editors’ names.”

  “Do you have a pen, E.D.?”

  “Yes.”

  “Write this down. Laurel’s gift book proposal is with

  Wendy Miller. Her number is 212-555-8742. Janet’s busiWendy Miller. Her number is 212-555-8742. Janet’s busi

  555-9632. And finally Lisa’s cookbook is with Barry

  Stein. His number is 516-555-7855.” She rattled off. “Do

  you need me to repeat any of that?”

  “No, I’ve got it.”

  “Are there any fires to put out today?”

  “Not yet, but it’s early. That might change.” Just then the limo was cut off and the car stopped

  short. She dropped her cell. Louis leaned on the horn.

  “Are you all right, Miss Chambers?”

  “I’m fine, Louis.”

  “Damn idiots on the road,” he grumbled.

  “Tell me about it.” She picked the phone up off the

  floor.

  “You still there, E.D.?”

  “Yes. Where are you?”

  “I’m on my way to the Bronx.”

  “The Bronx? You mean Yankee Stadium, right?” “Yes, it’s in the Bronx.”

  “You are obviously not driving yourself, because if you

  were…”

  She cut him off. She knew where he was going. “I’d be

  cursing like a sailor.”

  “Right. What gives?”

  “I got a special invitation from Marcus Fox to come to

  this afternoon’s game.” Cathy attempted to sound

  nonchalant.

  Silence.

  “Are you still there, E.D.?”

  “When did you start dating Marcus Fox? Hell, when

  did you meet him? Scratch that. When did you start

  dating again?”

  “I met him yesterday at Keen’s. We are not dating.” “What happened to lunch with Jim?”

  Cathy rolled her eyes. “You’re not serious, are you?

  Answer that for yourself.”

  “He met a new woman.”

  “Right. I had lunch by myself.”

  “Don’t try to duck the subject. How did you meet

  Marcus?”

  “He bought me lunch. Only I didn’t know he had

  until he came over to my table.”

  “And then?”

  “We talked for a little while, he asked for a business

  card and my home number. End of story.”