Not His Type

by Canton, Chamein

  “There’s no way that’s the end of the story. Did he

  invite you to the game at lunch?”

  She looked out the window. It figured they’d be stuck

  in traffic so she had no way to avoid answering such

  pointed questions.

  “No. He called me after yesterday’s game.” “That game didn’t end until after ten.”

  Cathy was shocked. E.D. didn’t follow baseball. “How

  did you know the game ran over?”

  “I was channel surfing. Now don’t change the subject.

  He called you after the game, right?”

  “Yes.”

  She knew the wheels were turning in E.D.’s head “It’s

  not a big deal and it’s not a date. Maybe he wants to write

  a book or something. I am a literary agent.”

  “Now who’s kidding who? If he wanted to write a

  book he would have his sports agent get the ball rolling.

  He certainly wouldn’t call directly and he definitely

  wouldn’t call after hours. The man likes you.”

  “Why are you trying to drive me crazy? I can’t let

  myself go there.”

  “Why not? Is it so hard for you to believe he could be

  interested in you?”

  She glanced at Louis and lowered her voice. “I’m

  going to say to you what I said to Anna: I’m not his type.” “You’re a woman, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then you’re his type. You need to feel as confident as

  you look, Cathy.”

  She looked up and saw there was a dead zone ahead.

  “Listen, I’m probably going to lose you in a minute. Just

  remember to check with those editors.”

  “I will. But you…”

  The phone cut off. She turned off the ringer. While Cathy was busy checking her makeup in her

  compact mirror, she realized they hadn’t stopped at any of

  the entrance gates. Confused, she looked at Louis. “Louis?”

  “Yes, Ms. Chambers?”

  “I don’t mean to sound silly, but I’ve been to Yankee

  Stadium countless times over the years and I have no idea

  where we’re going.”

  She saw Louis grin in the rearview mirror. “We’re

  going to the players’ parking area.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Like a child on a school bus, Cathy’s face

  was practically pressed up against the car window. God, it’s

  practically a luxury car lot, she thought. When the limo

  came to a stop, Cathy reached for the door handle but an

  eager young man beat her to the punch and helped her

  from the car.

  “Thank you very much.”

  “You’re quite welcome.”

  Louis handed her a pass for a luxury suite. “Here you

  go. Enjoy the game.”

  “You’re not coming with me?” Catherine looked like a

  little girl on the first day of school.

  He was amused. “No, Ms. Chambers. This nice young

  man here will assist you.”

  “Oh. Well, thank you for the nice ride in.” “You’re quite welcome.”

  She turned to the attendant. “I guess I’m putting

  myself in your capable hands.”

  “I’ll take good care of you. By the way, my name is

  Melvin.”

  She shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Melvin. I’m

  Cathy Chambers.”

  “Well, Ms. Chambers, if you would, please follow

  me.”

  “Sure.”

  He opened the door. “After you.”

  “Thanks.” She walked in.

  A strange sense of déjà vu came over Cathy as she

  followed Melvin down the hall. Now I remember, I came

  this way for a stadium tour with Alex and Andrew a couple

  of years back. She breathed a sigh of relief . At least she

  wasn’t losing it totally. Suddenly a chill went up her spine

  when the realization hit that they were headed for the

  Yankee clubhouse. Please God, don’t let me make a fool of

  myself in front of all the Yankees, Cathy prayed, her heart

  pounding.

  “Would you excuse me a moment, Ms. Chambers? I’ll

  let Mr. Fox know you’re here.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” Cathy waited nervously. She might

  have geared up for the game and dinner, which was a big

  deal, but she wasn’t prepared for a detour to the clubhouse.

  Still nervously awaiting Marcus, Cathy wanted to pace

  but she figured that would make her look nuts. She

  turned and faced the wall to get her composure back. With her back turned Marcus got a good look at her

  rear end and beautiful hourglass shape. She looks good

  coming and going. He smiled.

  “Hey there, Cathy.”

  “Hi.” She turned around.

  Marcus closed his eyes and breathed in her sweet

  perfume as he hugged her. Her sweet smell and soft curves

  hit just the right note, almost overwhelming his senses.

  He pulled away from her gently. “Don’t you look pretty

  today? Is this for me?” He pointed to the dress. “I wanted to look good today.” She grinned. “Well, you’ve succeeded.”

  “Do I get to meet this young lady, too?” Mark asked

  as he walked over.

  Marcus was a little startled. “Oh, I didn’t hear you

  walk out.”

  “That’s because you were hugging this lovely woman.”

  He turned to Cathy with his hand extended. “Hi. I’m

  Mark Vasquez.”

  “Mark, this is Catherine Chambers,” Marcus said.

  I would have to live under a rock not to know him . My sons would die if they knew I met the MVP of the league, she thought as she shook his hand. “Sure. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Vasquez,” Cathy said shyly.

  He feigned being shot in the heart. “Please, call me Mark. Mr. Vasquez is my grandfather.”

  “Okay. You can call me Cathy.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Cathy.”

  “I hate to break this up but we’re nearing the pre-game show,” Marcus said.

  “Oh, I guess that’s my cue to leave, huh buddy?” Mark joked. “Next time we’ll have to talk more, Cathy.”

  She smiled. “I’d like that.”

  He went back into the clubhouse.

  Marcus turned to Cathy. “I’ll see you after the game.”

  “Okay. Good luck. Let’s keep the streak going.”

  He smiled with that gleaming white grin.

  Cathy waved. “All right, Melvin. I guess I have a date with a luxury suite.”

  “You sure do. Follow me.”

  Cathy felt a warm sensation run down her neck and along her back. Marcus was watching her walk away; she didn’t need to turn around to be sure. She didn’t want to disappoint so she added a little extra swing to her walk. Just giving the audience what they want. She smiled coyly.

  Marcus raised his brow. Sorry, Jay-Z, but Beyonce’s got nothing on Cathy.

  v

  Back in the clubhouse Mark softened his glove with the ball. Marcus sat next to him.

  “I told you she’d be cool. Agents are like that,” Mark said.

  “I was afraid she would be like a deer in headlights.”

  “Far from it. Not to sound crude but speaking of headlights, she’s built.”

  Marcus remembered how her curves felt in his arms. “I know.” He smiled.

  “The woman is a brick house. That’s some nice figure she has.”

  “You think so?” Marcus asked.

  “Don’t you?”

  “I’m just surprised to hear you say that.”

/>   “Why?”

  “Your wife looks like a model.”

  “Cathy looks like a model, too, you know.” Mark studied his friend’s face. “They do have full figured models you know.”

  “I know.”

  “So what’s the look on your face for?” He paused. “You’re not worried about what any of these guys would have to say, are you?”

  Marcus looked uncomfortable. “No. I’m prepared for the comments.”

  “Guys will be guys. You know that, but as for your friends, they’ll be cool with her.”

  “I know.”

  Mark sat down. “I’m not going to say you won’t get some negative comments. Some people are shallow and that’s just the way it is. You can’t let them bother you. Cathy seems like a lovely woman and she’s a nice change for you.”

  “I know you’re right about that.”

  “So have a good time and see where it goes.“

  “I’m looking forward to getting to know her better. So far what I already know is great; she’s smart, funny and easy on the eyes. It can only get better from there.”

  Mark patted him on the back as he stood up. “It sounds like you have a game plan. Now speaking of game plans, we should head to the dugout.”

  “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  While he worked on his glove, Marcus reflected on what Mark had said. His family, agent and teammates had weathered the many storms of his love life, the last one being Hurricane Cybil. Out of all his girlfriends she was a category five storm and their breakup had played out in public.

  Cathy was a nice change from the melodramatic attention seekers he usually dated. He thought about her long red hair and the way her eyes smiled at him. It’s going to be a great day and night.

  v

  The luxury suites were something of an urban legend to Cathy. Her family usually camped out in the Loge section, which was a major step up from the bleachers where her grandparents had watched Gehrig, Ruth, Mantle, Guidry, Munson and DiMaggio play. So to say she wasn’t prepared for the air conditioned room, cushioned seats, three monitors, bar and private restroom was an understatement. Cathy listened with wide-eyed eagerness as Melvin described the suite’s amenities.

  “Impressive, aren’t they?” He smiled.

  “Oh my God, I can’t believe this.” She was awestruck. Melvin thought it was too cute. Luxury suite virgins are

  the best , he thought. They really appreciate the experience. “Well, Mr. Fox wanted you to be comfortable.” “I don’t think my house is this comfortable.” “Do you have any questions?”

  She was still awestruck. “No, I’m just tickled that it’s

  air-conditioned. For once my behind won’t be stuck to the seat.” Cathy quickly covered her mouth when she’d realized what she’d let slip out. She was completely embarrassed. “Sorry, you can’t take me anywhere.”

  “No need to be sorry. We’ve heard much worse even here in the luxury suites.” He showed her to a seat. “Thank you.”

  “If you need anything someone will be glad to help you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Enjoy the game.”

  “Thanks.”

  As Cathy looked around she couldn’t help thinking about her family’s earlier days at Yankee Stadium. “Talk about coming a long way, baby, this is unreal,” she mumbled to herself. Generations of her family had occupied seats in Yankee Stadium since the 1920’s as the original bleacher bums. Today she was in the luxury suites. Too bad Grandma isn’t here, she sighed. Her thought was interrupted by her vibrating handbag. She quickly grabbed the phone.

  Although it was a big no-no, Marcus had found a quiet spot to call Cathy before the Yankees took the field.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey. I know we just saw each other but I wanted to give you a quick call to say hello again before the game.”

  She was tickled. “I’m glad you did. I want to thank you for the lovely accommodations.”

  “My pleasure. I’m going to meet you there in the suite after the game. The clubhouse is too crazy with reporters and cameras for you to come here.”

  “You don’t have to tell me, I watch the post game report.”

  “Okay. Then I’ll see you later.”

  “Okay. Good luck.”

  “Thanks.”

  As Cathy disconnected the phone, her stomach fluttered, a sure sign Marcus was doing and saying all the right things. I can’t fall for this guy, even if he’s my dream guy. I’m done with love and my track record proves it. There’s no way this is going to work out, she told herself. Needing to get her mind off a romance with Marcus, she decided to call the other big Yankee fan, her son Andrew. He would help her stay grounded.

  “Hey Andrew. It’s Mom.”

  “Hey Mom.”

  “How’s school going?”

  “Good. I like my classes.”

  “Great. What about work-study? Do you have your assignment yet?”

  “Yeah. I’m working in the game room. Alex is too.”

  “That’s interesting. You’re working different shifts then.”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “Good. Guess where I am this afternoon?”

  “Where?”

  “I’m in the Hall of Fame Suite at Yankee Stadium.”

  “Get out of here, Mom! How did you get in? Don’t you need special tickets?”

  “Actually, you do.”

  “Wow, someone gave you a pass?”

  “In a manner of speaking. You know I love to catch a live game.”

  “Wow, Mom, I’m jealous.”

  “Maybe one day your old mom will be able to afford it and bring you guys.”

  “That would be sweet.”

  “Anyway, I was going to call your brother. Does he have a class now?”

  “He’s with a study group. Want me to tell him to call?”

  “I can’t have my cell on during the game.”

  “Okay, Mom. Listen, I gotta go, Mom. I have to meet with my advisor.”

  “I’ll talk to you later. Love you!”

  “Love you too, Mom.”

  Cathy’s cell rang before she could turn it off.

  “Damn!” She nearly bobbled her phone in her hands before she caught it. “Hello?”

  “Thank God I got you.”

  “Hi, Fran. What’s going on?” Cathy waited for the other shoe to drop.

  “Nothing really. I just wanted to let you know I sent the manuscript to my editor today. I’m going away for a couple of days so I needed to give you a heads up.”

  “Thank you, Fran. I appreciate that. Could you do me a favor and email E.D. and cc Sylvia and Michelle.

  “Not a problem.”

  “Thanks. You enjoy your vacation.”

  “I will. Thank you. Talk to you soon.”

  Cathy turned her ringer off as quickly as possible. She didn’t want to risk getting another phone call.

  For the next few hours, Cathy enjoyed a real nail biter of a game in air-conditioned luxury. She wanted to get up and scream as she did at home, but the dignified surroundings made her feel self-conscious about it. It was funny since the people seated next to her were cursing up a blue streak with more yelling than she’d ever heard in the bleachers. By the seventh inning the Yankees had tied the game 5-5. The eighth and top of the ninth was a real pitcher’s duel. Then came the bottom of the ninth and it looked as if the game was heading into extra innings. There were two outs, one man on and her guy Marcus was up. Talk about pressure. The count was 2-2. He swung and Cathy heard that distinctive crack of the bat. The fans rose. It was going, going…gone! Marcus had hit the game winning homerun. The stadium erupted as if were a World Series game. Catherine jumped up and down. What a ballgame! What a man! What am I getting into? she thought to herself. Something told her she was definitely in over her head.

  CHAPTER 7

  Flashbulbs popping, Marcus stood in a sea of microphones, cameras and reporters. It was September and as captain he was used to addressing
questions about the game and the state of the team especially as the race for the pennant now began in earnest. However, today was different; homerun or not, he was distracted and anxious to get to Cathy.

  “So Marcus, this was a real nail biter this afternoon. What do you think the team did differently in the sixth inning?” Bill Martin of The Chronicle asked.

  “Well, Bill, we started getting some timely hits to build towards a rally.”

  “You really crushed Juan’s slider, which is a pitch that hasn’t been kind to you in the past. What was the difference today?” Gina Allen of The Post asked.

  Marcus took a breath. “Juan usually has good location on his pitches but he left it a little high and I was able to make contact.” Marcus motioned to Ben, who instinctively knew what he wanted.

  Ben walked to the fore of the group. “Okay, guys, he’s answered your questions. How about we let today’s hero get some food in his stomach?”

  “What about our deadlines?” Jack Ford asked.

  “He’s given you plenty to write about with photos. We’ll make it up to you on the way to the Series.”

  “You think the Yankees are going to make it this year, Marcus?” Bill asked.

  “I’m sure the best teams will. Okay, fellas, I’ve got to go.” His answer was the right blend of confidence and political correctness. Marcus politely excused himself. Once he was in the hall he ran straight into Barbara Ann Jones, who had a sly grin on her face.

  Marcus was startled. “Hi, Barbara, how are you?” He kissed her cheek lightly.

  “I’m good, Marcus, although I’m not as good as you are today. That was some homerun blast.”

  “Thanks.” He kept looking at his watch.

  Barbara was intrigued. “You’re in a hurry. Do you have a date with a dinner plate, a woman or both?”

  Friends or not friends, Marcus and Barbara had dated and he thought it would be unkind to talk about someone new he was dating. “I’m hungry.”

  She didn’t believe him. “I see. What’s her name?”

  He tried to play it off. “What are you talking about?”

  “Come on, Marcus, we used to date. I know that look. What is her name?”

  He knew the jig was up. “You don’t know her.”

  Barbara was flabbergasted. “Oh my God, you really like her. If you didn’t, you’d give me her name without a second thought. You want to keep her to yourself for a while.” She nudged him. “I can respect that.”