“Thanks.” He looked at his watch again. “I really have to go. Maybe we’ll get together for a drink or coffee.”
“That sounds good to me.”
He began walking away. “I’ll call you.”
She waved him on. “Okay.” Barbara watched as he went down the hall. “I never thought I would see the day when the Marcus Fox would look nervous going on a date.” She shook her head. “Will wonders never cease?”
Shades on, Marcus looked like his calm, cool and collected self on the outside; inside it was another story. He was actually a little nervous and jumpy. What the hell is wrong with me? he thought. After all, he’d only met Cathy the day before and outside of the phone conversation he’d only spent maybe a little over a half hour with her in person. On paper it didn’t make sense to be nervous.
Yet Barbara Ann had called it accurately. He’d never had a problem sharing the name of his latest flame and neither did the woman. Most women loved to see their names paired with his and went so far as to make sure the papers correctly spelled their name. Marcus knew there was something different about Cathy and it had nothing to do with her size. True, she was the first full-figured woman he’d ever dated but there was something else he just couldn’t put his finger on until he entered the luxury suite.
There she was, back straight, legs crossed and leaning forward just enough to enhance her cleavage. Busy on her Blackberry, Cathy had a laid back, easy going sex appeal. Marcus unconsciously took a page from LL Cool J’s playbook and licked his lips. He’d seen many women contort their bodies to appear sexy but Cathy’s sexiness was as natural as breathing in and out.
He cleared his throat. “I haven’t kept you waiting that long, have I?”
Cathy was a little startled and quickly put the Blackberry away. “No, you haven’t kept me waiting long.”
“At the risk of repeating myself, I have to say you look gorgeous.”
Even with the air conditioning her face grew hot. “Thank you. So do you, Mr. Homerun.”
Marcus felt a little bashful in front of her.
“Thanks. How did you like your accommodations?”
“I could get used to this. I can’t afford to, but I could get used to it.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. Are you ready to go?”
“Absolutely.”
“Cool. Let’s go.”
When Marcus took Cathy’s hand, she smiled like a teenager. She’d halfway expected his hands to be rough and was pleasantly surprised at how soft his hands were.
Marcus took a lot of teasing for using a special hand cream, but as a ladies man he knew full well that while most women appreciated the feel of an alligator bag or shoes, alligator-like hands didn’t cut it. Marcus didn’t want to let go of her soft hands but he knew he had to prepare Cathy for what awaited them on the other side of the door. He stopped suddenly, throwing Cathy off balance.
He caught her before she could fall. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
Cathy regrouped. “I’m fine. What’s wrong?”
“You might want to put your sunglasses on.”
She complied. “The photographers are that bad?”
“Worse. Just hold my hand and we’ll get through the obstacle course together in no time.”
She took a deep breath. “Okay.”
The minute he opened the door the flashbulbs were in rapid fire mode as were the questions being hurled their way. Cathy and Marcus ignored them and kept smiling.
“Are you the new woman in Marcus’s life?” a female voice shouted.
“Marcus is she your new lady?” a male voice shouted.
Cathy found the pace of the questions dizzying. She’d never heard so many ways to ask the same incessant question. Was she the new woman replacing Cybil, his supermodel ex? Inquiring minds apparently wanted to know. In truth, Cathy wanted to know, too, but she was afraid to entertain the idea of being Marcus’s girlfriend even for a minute.
Cathy kept her focus until they finally got to his Jaguar. Marcus helped her in, threw his bag into the backseat and dashed over to the driver’s side.
“Are you okay?” he asked as he climbed in.
“I’m fine.”
He slammed the door. “That was fun, wasn’t it?” he said with a little mischievous smile.
“Oh yeah, that was a blast,” Cathy said with her tongue planted firmly in her cheek.
“So now that we’re alone we can talk for a little while without photographers or reporters.” He started the engine.
In the side mirror Cathy saw another Yankee star emerge. The reporters were on him as quickly as they surrounded Marcus and Cathy. “I would guess the only time you can have a little peace is when you’re in the car.”
Marcus shook his head. “It certainly seems that way.” He drove out of the lot.
Cathy nodded. “I give you credit. Between the press watching and judging your performance and the tabloids obsessing over your personal life, I don’t know how you take it.”
“I guess I’m used to it.”
“Which is easier to handle, the sports press or the tabloids?”
He didn’t miss a beat. “The sports press is easier. At least with them we’re talking about concrete statistics or technicalities of baseball. With the tabloids anything goes.”
“How do you deal with stress? You’re always so calm and collected.”
“I go to the batting cage or the driving range. That helps. What about you?”
Cathy was surprised by his interest. “I walk for six miles or so in the mornings before my day gets going.”
“You walk six miles or so?”
“Between my client roster and my children I need to walk; now that my sons are in college I mostly walk because of clients.”
“You have sons in college?” He was incredulous.
“Yes.”
“You don’t look old enough to have children in college.”
Her dewy caramel complexion boasted a few freckles but there wasn’t a line on her face. Her smile was bright and her dark brown eyes had a youthful glimmer.
Cathy bashfully looked down at her legs. “Thanks for the compliment, but I do.”
He still couldn’t believe it. “You’re pulling my leg.”
Cathy chuckled at the idea of debating her age with a younger man. “Okay then, how old do you think I am?”
He looked at her. “Maybe thirty-three.”
Cathy was floored and confused. Was this simple flattery or was he sincere? “I was a young parent but I would have had to get pregnant at fifteen using your math. I didn’t have my sons until I was twenty-two.”
Marcus did the math in his head. “You’re forty?” he asked, shocked at the number.
Cathy smiled warmly. “I would show you my driver’s license but it looks like a mug shot.”
“Okay, then I have to take your word for it.” He took another long look at her. “You look great.”
“I look great for my age, right?” she teased.
Marcus’s expression was serious. “I’m giving you an honest compliment. I think you look wonderful, period.”
She could see from the look on his face that he was serious. “I was just teasing. Thanks for the compliment.”
His warm smiled returned. “You’re welcome.” He paused. “You said sons plural.”
“I have twins.”
“You have twin sons. Are they identical or fraternal?”
Cathy looked to the sky. “Fraternal, thank God. Half the time I can’t call them by the right name. If they looked alike I’d be in real trouble.” She opened her bag to take out Alexander and Andrew’s latest pictures.
“This is Andrew and this is Alexander.”
Sitting at a light he glanced quickly at the pictures. “Fraternal? I bet people still can’t tell them apart.” “You’d be surprised just how many can’t.”
“I bet you can tell them apart.”
“Some days that’s debatable. Catch me when I’m yelling at
them. I’m lucky I remember one name.”
He laughed. “They’re good looking young men.”
“Thanks.” Cathy smiled as she put her wallet back.
“Who’s older?”
“Andrew is by two minutes. I can’t tell you how funny it is when Andrew holds it over Alex’s head.”
“If there’s a first place, then there has to be a second place.”
“True. Still, the two minutes made the biggest difference to me. After all, I was the one in the delivery room.”
He laughed. “So they go to the same school?”
“Yes. There was talk about going to different schools but we went where the money was.”
“Are they rooming together?”
“No.”
Cathy answered so quickly Marcus had to laugh. “I guess that answers my question. You didn’t waste any time thinking about that answer.”
Cathy laughed. “Listen, they’ve been sharing space since the womb. It’s one thing to break up any arguments at home; it’s another thing when they’re over 400 miles away. Besides, any more togetherness and they’d kill each other for sure.”
He chuckled. “Just the two kids and no more after that?”
“Jackpot! I figured I would retire with a high batting average.”
“You did bat a thousand.”
“Exactly. How about you? Do you have any children?” As soon as the words left her lips she realized what a silly question she’d asked.
Marcus chalked the question up to nervousness, then answered without missing a beat. “Wouldn’t that be something else?”
“Oh yeah. There’s no way you could have a love child and not have the press dig it up.”
“Exactly.”
“Do you want kids?”
“Eventually, with the right woman.”
“I hear that. You have to make sure you’ve got the right person who’s in it for the long haul.”
“That sounds oddly like the voice of experience.”
“It is.”
“How long have you been divorced?”
“Hmm. Lets see.” She counted in her head. “Almost seventeen years.”
He was taken aback. “Wow. You never wanted to get married again?”
“I thought about it, but a divorced mother with two kids didn’t rate high on the date-ability meter, especially back then. I focused my energy on my children.”
“Which you obviously did well since they’re in college.”
“Thanks. Knock on wood.” She knocked on the dashboard. “What about you? Have you ever been engaged?”
“No. I came close a couple of times, but it didn’t work out.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I hope it didn’t end badly.” “It kind of did.”
“Oh, I see. Enough said.” She paused. “Well, on the bright side you are still one of the most eligible bachelors in the world. Women break their necks to get close enough to get your attention.”
“You think so?”
“I know so.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?” she asked.
“You didn’t break your neck to get my attention. In fact you barely even noticed me.”
Cathy cracked up. “I barely noticed you? I noticed you.”
“Really? I kept looking over at you, trying to see if you’d look up even for a second. You were so sure I was looking at the women behind you.”
“I’m sorry. I was going with the odds. I figured I was a long shot.”
With the car stopped at a light Marcus turned toward Cathy and looked at her in all seriousness. “You are definitely not a long shot.” His eyes were so intense she was unsettled.
He dialed it down a notch. “What’s the matter? Hasn’t anyone ever said you’re beautiful?”
“I wouldn’t say that. I have turned a head or two, only they’re not usually on such handsome shoulders.”
Marcus liked what he heard. “Ah, so you’re a woman who knows a little something about the art of flirting. I’m impressed.” He grinned.
“Thanks.” Although she was apprehensive Cathy decided it was as good a time as any to ask him the $64,000 question. “So Marcus, I’d like to ask you something.”
“Sure.”
“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way but I am a big, no pun intended, change from the usual women you go out with, so I guess I’m a little curious as to why you asked me out.”
“That’s a fair question.” He paused for a moment. “I liked the confident way you just strolled into the restaurant. Your date didn’t show and you ordered lunch without skipping a beat.”
“Why should I starve because my client didn’t show?”
“Exactly. Do you know how many times I’ve taken a woman to dinner only to have her not eat or just push her food around the plate? Even innocent gestures of affection are taken as code for you’re getting fat.”
“Oh so since I’m full-figured I couldn’t possibly be as neurotic.” Catherine’s tone was playful and a little serious.
“No, I’m not saying that.”
“Good. Because you’d be wrong. All women are neurotic on some level regardless of size. Some of us handle it better than others.”
“True. You got me there.”
She laughed so she wouldn’t seem like a stick in the mud or some kind of full-figured militant. “I’d better stop giving you a hard time before you never ask me out again.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about that. I definitely plan to ask you out again.”
Cathy smiled.
They were at another light. Once it changed Marcus slowed down so Cathy assumed they were close to their destination.
“How do you feel about dinner at Chanterelle?”
She was pleasantly surprised. “I love the idea. Am I dressed for Chanterelle?”
“You look perfect to me.”
Cathy was embarrassed when she turned red for the umpteenth time. “I don’t think I’ve blushed this much in my entire life.”
Marcus thought it was sweet. “Really? I’m surprised. You’re such a pretty woman I would think you’d be used to receiving compliments.”
“Now who’s the old-fashioned flirt?” She winked
“Hungry?”
“Starving.”
“You didn’t eat at the stadium?”
“No, I didn’t want to spoil my dinner.”
“Spoken like a mom.”
By the time they pulled into a parking garage on Leonard Street something had changed. Both Marcus and Cathy began to feel that they were on a normal, real first date like anyone else. However, that quickly changed when the attendant greeted them.
“Oh my God!” he said excitedly. Cathy turned and smiled at Marcus, who was a little embarrassed to have a grown man fawn all over him in front of his date. The attendant, whose name was George, opened the door.
“That was a beauty of a pitch you hit today. Man, I loved the look on Juan’s face, he knew you would crush that pitch the minute he released it.”
Marcus stepped out of the car. “Thanks, man.” He shook George’s hand and gave him the keys before walking around to open Cathy’s door.
George smiling ear to ear, said, “Don’t worry. We’ll take care of your car, Mr. Fox.”
Marcus was gracious as always. “Thanks, dude.”
Marcus put his arm out for Catherine to hold on to, which she did. “I’m not cutting off the blood supply to your arm, am I?” he laughed.
“Not at all.” She patted his arm. “This is the same arm pitchers seem to be gunning for.”
“It does seem like that sometimes, doesn’t it?”
“I get so mad when they try to hit you.”
Marcus could see she was sincere. “That’s sweet but baseball is a contact sport. It’s a risk.”
“I guess that’s why they pay you the big bucks. I’ve seen the speed of those pitches. It’s got to be painful.”
“It doesn’t tickle but you learn
to shake it off.”
Marcus looked at Cathy as they walked down the street. She had the face of an angel when she smiled. He stopped walking abruptly.
“Did you forget something?” Cathy asked.
“Yes.”
“You want to go back to the car to get it?”
“That’s not necessary. It’s right here.”
Before Cathy could say a word he pulled her to him. Cathy melted the moment his lips touched hers. Marcus was excited at the tentative way she parted her lips; it made them all the sweeter. He wanted to pull her in closer but he knew if he held her just a moment longer she would know how much he wanted her. Breathless and a little surprised by the passion, they came back to earth.
“I’ve wanted to do that all afternoon. I was going to wait until I took you home, but I couldn’t wait.”
“I’m glad you didn’t.”
“So am I.”
CHAPTER 8
The moment Marcus and Cathy walked into Chanterelle, the place nearly went silent. Cathy could feel her level of insecurity rise with each passing glance as the maitre d’ showed them to their table. She wondered if they were thinking the one thing she’d been trying not to: why her? Then Marcus turned and smiled at her and she felt silly for letting negative thoughts get the best of her.
Marcus was a near perfect gentleman as he held Cathy’s chair for her, but he couldn’t help being drawn to her cleavage yet again as she sat down in her Marilyn Monroe Seven Year Itch dress. He was dying to scratch and when he finally looked up and met Cathy’s gaze, he knew he was caught, again.
I’m busted again , Marcus thought. He was embarrassed. “I’m sorry. You must think I’m a pig.”
Cathy was amused. “Not at all. Believe me, you’re not the first.”
“You’re awfully magnanimous. Doesn’t it piss you off?”
“Let’s put it this way: I haven’t had a spill in my lap since I was ten. So I’m used to the attention.”
His eyes widened. “Did you say ten?”
“You heard correctly.” She nodded. “So you can imagine how much I hated recess.” Cathy sighed. “They snapped my bra straps every chance they got.”
He raised his brow. “You know boys will be boys. Besides at that age they only bother the girls they like.”
“True.” She paused. “But once I slapped one of the leading offenders they stopped.”
Not His Type Page 9
