Not His Type

by Canton, Chamein

  “I’m not most men.”

  “Isn’t that the truth?”

  They kissed.

  He looked at her strangely.

  “What?”

  “Is there anything else you want to talk about?” “No. Why do you ask?”

  “I heard the message from Sarah and judging from the time stamp, I think you did too. Is there anything you want to ask me about that?”

  “So I heard the message. It’s not a big deal.” Cathy tried to sound real casual about it.

  “Don’t you want to ask me about it?” he pressed.

  “Marcus, we met a couple of days ago. I know you had a life before. I do not expect it to disappear.”

  “Are you saying you don’t care?”

  “No, it’s not that I don’t care. I don’t have the right to get upset or ask for any explanations from you.”

  “You don’t think you have a right?”

  “Marcus, I’ve made the mistake of going into new relationships with expectations and I got burned. I refuse to do it anymore.”

  “So you learned to accept less.”

  “I guess that’s exactly what I did,” she conceded.

  “You don’t have to do that anymore.”

  “I don’t?”

  “You know, the reporters aren’t that far off the mark.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Yes, people have sat next to my parents at the stadium before, but I’ve never had a girlfriend sit next to them until tonight.”

  Cathy was speechless.

  “All I’m saying is, give us a chance. My father always said when you meet the right person, you’ll just know it. I think we’re on that track.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes, I do. The moment you walked into the restaurant I saw this confident and beautiful woman sit down at a table in the middle of the place by herself. Then I saw you smile at the waiter. I thought to myself, I’d love to have her smile at me the same way. That’s why I had to meet you.”

  “You had to meet me.”

  “Yes, I did. Sarah and I weren’t an item. We had fun together and that was about it. I’m not a saint. I’ve dated a lot of women but now I’m ready to give a real relationship a try. All I want to know is if you’re willing to do the same.”

  “I would like that.” Cathy was lot more emotional than she’d been in a long time.

  “Good.”

  Tears streamed down her face. “Damn. Now my face is leaking.” She wiped her eyes. They looked at each other and howled with laughter. Marcus handed her some tissues.

  “Your face is leaking. That’s a new one.”

  “It’s an expression Alex used to use when he was little. Whenever I peeled onions he’d say, ‘Mommy’s face is leaking.’ It was so cute I haven’t stopped using the saying; it reminds me of when they were babies.” She looked down at the floor. “I know, I’m a cornball.”

  “You know what? I like corn.”

  “You do?”

  “Oh, definitely.”

  They kissed each other tenderly, letting the passion build with each moment that passed. Once again Marcus took her by the hand to the bedroom.

  Face to face in the bedroom, Marcus took Cathy’s sweater off and he stopped her before she could undress herself. “I want to do it.”

  She let him. After years of submitting to religious doctrine, Cathy had a need to maintain control so it was a big deal to let him undress her a second time.

  Things were different for Marcus too. In the past he’d watched a woman get undressed just to get to the ultimate finish. Now he wanted the pleasure of taking his time. Piece by piece he gently removed her clothes.

  Having been a big girl all her life, Cathy felt he treated her as a treasured porcelain doll he was afraid to break. He made her feel delicate, even fragile.

  Marcus turned the lights down low, but not off. He stopped for a moment. “I love looking at you.”

  Cathy’s stomach fluttered. Marcus teased her with stop and go kisses down her neck and shoulders. It tickled but she didn’t laugh. She stood behind him and took his shirt off. She rubbed his sculpted back. Michelangelo’s David has nothing on him, she thought.

  The hairs on the back of Marcus’s neck stood straight up from the warmth of her breath. If she kisses the nape of my neck, she’s going to have to peel me off her. Just then she lightly kissed the nape of his neck. It’s on. He quickly turned around and kissed her; within minutes their bodies were so entangled it was impossible to tell where he ended and she began.

  Cathy’s hands grabbed the covers to anchor her body to the bed as Marcus took her higher and deeper to a place where she didn’t know her own name, but knew his. “Oh God, Marcus,” she moaned. Oh my God! Did I just moan his name? She asked herself for just a moment and then quickly forgot her own question as making love turned into a religious experience like none other.

  Nestled in each other’s arms they drifted off to sleep. During her limited sex life, Cathy had never been comfortable sleeping with someone else after they’d made love. However there was safely in “his nook,” which she thought was strictly a Sex and the City concoction since she didn’t think her body was made to fit with that of anyone else. Something was different this time; she could sleep with Marcus near her. It felt as if he and she fit together so well that she could rest her body, mind and maybe even soul without reservation.

  CHAPTER 13

  Saturday morning meant an afternoon game. Cathy left Marcus sleeping soundly in bed. They’d had quite a night and he needed to get some rest. She quietly slid out of bed and grabbed his robe before going to the kitchen.

  Once she opened the bedroom door she could see the sun was shining brightly on New York City. She stopped to enjoy the breathtaking view from Marcus’s living room. Feeling more like the happy homemaker than the happy hooker, Cathy went to the kitchen to make breakfast.

  She wasn’t quite sure whether it was elves or a secret team of maids that came in and re-stocked Marcus’s refrigerator. Whoever did it didn’t matter. She was happy to see the ingredients she needed to make blueberry pancakes. While she made up the batter for pancakes, she turned the griddle on and placed a couple of plates in the warming drawer before making blueberry compote, scrambled eggs and sausage to go with the pancakes. Orange juice and coffee rounded out the breakfast tray.

  Bringing the tray out of the kitchen, Cathy set it on the dining room table for a moment. The only thing that was missing to complete her breakfast in bed service was a newspaper. In a fancy building like this, she figured all the newspapers would be right outside the door. So she poked her head out the door and hit pay dirt. All the papers were there.

  As she started to put the newspapers on the tray she remembered what they’d talked about last night. She hurriedly opened The Journal to the celebrity section and scanned it for her name. She didn’t have to look too hard; there were two photos of her and Marcus just as he’d said.

  New York Yankee Marcus Fox was seen canoodling with Catherine Chambers, literary agent and managing partner of the Chambers-Stevens Literary Agency in New York. Onlookers said the two were quite chummy over dinner. Fox, whose last main squeeze was supermodel Cybil George, seems to be quite taken with the voluptuous Chambers. Sources close to Fox say Chambers has even met his parents. Could this be the real thing? Stay tuned.

  Cathy breathed a sigh of relief. At least they said voluptuous rather than fat. She was sorely tempted to read the other papers but decided to quit while she was ahead. She refolded The Journal and put it on the tray with the other papers.

  Marcus was still asleep when she brought the tray in. “Hey, sleepy head.”

  He turned over and slowly opened his eyes. “Hey.”

  “Good morning. Are you ready for a little breakfast in

  bed?”

  It looked as if his eyes were slowly getting focused. “Would you look at that? You made me breakfast?” “Yes, I did. Now sit up so I can put this tray down. It’s
>
  kind of heavy.”

  He quickly sat up. “Okay, babe. Is that better?” “Much.” She gave him the tray. “Now you are almost all set. I just have to get the half and half for your coffee. Or do you use milk?”

  “Half and half is fine.”

  “Okay. I’ll get it and the sugar.”

  Just as she was about to leave he grabbed her hand.

  “Can’t a guy get a morning kiss?” She smiled and gave him a kiss. “Now let me get the cream and sugar. I’ll only be a minute or two.”

  “Hurry back.”

  She went to the kitchen and returned with the cream and sugar in hand.

  “See. I told you it wouldn’t take me long.”

  Marcus was a little too busy chewing. “Thanks. This is fantastic. Don’t tell me you made the compote, too.”

  “If you don’t want me to tell you I made it, then I won’t.”

  “You are a little character.”

  “Thanks. Is everything okay?”

  “It’s great. I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I’ve had a breakfast like this at home. Not including yesterday’s breakfast.”

  She climbed back into bed. “You mean your other girlfriends never made breakfast for you?” Cathy couldn’t believe she’d said ‘girlfriends,’ as if she were sure she ranked right in there.

  “No. I never had a girlfriend like you before.”

  She was secretly tickled to have him refer to her as his girlfriend.

  “Cooking was not their strong suit.” He stopped to eat. “Aren’t you having breakfast?”

  “I already ate.”

  “You didn’t want to have breakfast with me?”

  “It’s not that. I’m just not much of a breakfast person this early. Toast and coffee this time of day is more than enough for me.”

  “If you say so.” He opened up the paper. She’d put The Journal on top.

  “Did you read the paper?” he asked.

  “I glanced at The Journal, but that’s the only one. The rest I don’t know about.” As he opened up to the gossip pages she watched for his expression.

  “They crack me up with this stuff.”

  “They do have a flair for words. But you did date for a while.”

  “We dated for three years.”

  “That’s practically a lifetime in fashion and Hollywood.”

  “I can tell you it wasn’t all glitz, glamour, high profile outings, fashion shows and premieres. There were some not so pretty times with the beautiful people.”

  “Be that as it may, this is the kind of stuff that sells papers and gossip magazines. You were dating the ideal woman, a sex symbol and top model. Now you’re dating a woman six years your senior, divorced with two kids and to top it off she’s full-figured. I can see why they’re baiting her.”

  Marcus dismissed the idea. “Cybil can’t be bothered enough to read in the first place. She used to leaf through the fashion magazines for the photos. The only time she read was if some outfit or bag caught her eye.”

  “Marcus, you may have dated her for three years, but I know women and regardless of whether she sees this or not, someone is going to tell her and then it’s just a matter of time before there’s another little item in the paper or on E Hollywood News.”

  “That relationship is in the past for the both of us.”

  “I’m sure it is, but right, wrong or indifferent, the press is seeking to stir things up.”

  “Maybe. They did get a few things right.” He put the tray on the night table and came towards her. She pretended to try to get away.

  “Really? What part did they get right?”

  “The part about me being taken with you. Come here, my voluptuous woman.”

  He kept kissing her neck.

  “Wait a minute, Marcus. Are you trying to give me a hickey?”

  “Mmm? Me? Would I do that to you?” he asked coyly.

  It tickled her. “Stop, Marcus. Not only am I too old to have a hickey, it’s still a little bit warm. I can’t cover up with a turtleneck.”

  He ignored her. After another couple of minutes of her protesting, he stopped.

  He looked at his handiwork. “There it is.”

  Cathy put her hand on her neck then dashed to the mirror. “Oh, Marcus. What am I supposed to do?”

  “If anyone asks, tell them I did it.”

  “You know how long it takes to get rid of the mark?” “No. How long?”

  “I don’t know. I was asking you. I haven’t had a hickey since I was…” Cathy stopped to think. “When was the last time I had a hickey? I think I was 29.”

  “Twenty-nine? You never got a little love bite as a teenager?”

  “No. Together my parents were strict but once they split up my mother tightened the religious reins.”

  “Your dad didn’t have a say in it?” He was incredulous.

  “Not really.”

  “So you weren’t allowed to date?”

  “No. According to the rules of this religion you couldn’t date until you were ready to get married.”

  Marcus was floored. “What?”

  “You heard right. We didn’t date, period. We didn’t get to go to the junior or senior prom either.”

  “What was wrong with going to the prom? It’s just a rite of passage.”

  “A night of degradation.”

  “So you never really dated until you got married.”

  “Right.”

  “Is this the same religion that doesn’t celebrate birthdays?”

  “Yes.”

  “So you couldn’t celebrate birthdays and you had to be ready to get married in order to date.”

  “There was a high rate of young people getting married in this religion.”

  “With rules like that, I bet there was.”

  “It’s still like that. I was an oddball because I stayed in college after I got married. It was the one thing my father really put his foot down about.”

  “I think that’s great. Where did you go to college?”

  “Haven’t I told you before?”

  “No.”

  “Oh. I went to Yale,” Cathy said nonchalantly. “All three of us did. Madison is a graduate of Yale Law School and Anna has her master’s in finance and accounting from Yale. I have degrees in political science and business management.”

  “That’s some accomplishment for all of you. How in the world did you combine being married, having twins and college?” He was impressed

  “I didn’t have the twins until I was 22. By then I was a senior. I graduated and gave birth in the same month. I got divorced when I was 23.”

  “Was your ex-husband part of this religion thing too?”

  “Yes, he was. He still turned out to be lousy.” Cathy was surprised at how matter of fact she was with Marcus. “Still, I had to prove I was one of the faithful and I stayed the religious course until I was twenty-eight. By then I was done living like a nun without the habit. So I didn’t get my first hickey until I was 29.” It happened so long ago it was as if she was talking about another person in another lifetime.

  “So you really didn’t start dating until you were almost 30.”

  “Pathetic, isn’t it?” Cathy said.

  “No, not at all.” He looked thoughtful. “You said your last relationship was about two years ago, right?” “Almost three years ago.”

  “So you dated him for a while.”

  “Eight years.”

  Marcus looked as if he was finally doing the math. “So I’m only the…” The light bulb flashed over his head. “Oh my God.”

  “That’s right, and I’m forty years old.” Cathy looked in the mirror again. “This thing is getting more black and blue by the minute.”

  He playfully threw his pillow at her. “Wait a second. Is that my robe you have on?”

  “Yes.”

  “You didn’t bring a robe?”

  “No.”

  “In that case I want my robe back.”

 
“You can’t have it back, otherwise I won’t have anything to wear.”

  “That will teach you to come prepared.”

  “Oh, so it’s like that now?”

  “Uh huh.”

  Cathy dropped the robe to her ankles. “Satisfied?”

  “Very.” He got out of bed, came to her, put his hands around her waist and kissed her.

  They didn’t make it back to the bed in time.

  v

  After stealing the robe back while Marcus was sound asleep, Cathy quietly got lost in the majesty of New York City spread out in front of her.

  “Gorgeous. Simply gorgeous.” Marcus slipped his arms around her waist.

  “I didn’t know you were awake.” She was a little startled.

  “I was just dozing. The view was too enticing to miss.”

  “It is. The city looks so beautiful from here.”

  “I wasn’t talking about the city.” He kissed her neck. “You’re gorgeous.”

  “You better watch out, you’re spoiling me,” she said bashfully.

  “I think you deserve to be spoiled.”

  She closed her eyes. “I could get used to this.”

  “I hope you do.”

  She turned around and kissed him. “You are so sweet.” She caressed his face.

  He looked into her eyes. “I know you’re happy but there is a little something in your eyes.”

  She walked away from the window and sat on the bed. “It’s probably guilt.”

  “Guilt? What do you have to feel guilty about?”

  “Everything and nothing at all.”

  He sat down next to her. “You can talk to me. I’ll listen. I won’t judge you.”

  “Nobody could be a harder judge than I am.”

  “Why are you judging yourself?”

  “It’s so hard to explain, Marcus.” She sighed. “Even though I haven’t lived that religious life for more than a decade, still there are remnants.”

  “Like what?”

  “Remember we were talking about celebrating birthdays?”

  “Yes.”

  Cathy was ashamed to say it out loud. “I didn’t celebrate my sons’ birthdays until they were about eight years old. They had no parties or anything for eight years and I feel like I let them miss out.”