Not His Type (6 page)

Back in the Bronx, life was very good in the Yankee
clubhouse. The team was on a winning streak and the press
was happy. Marcus had given his obligatory interviews and
now he wanted to find a quiet nook to make a call.

“Hey, guy.” His agent patted him on the shoulder. You
had a pretty good game tonight.”
Marcus searched for Cathy’s business card. He’d
written her home number on the back. “Thanks.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, man. I’m just looking for something.” He
finally found the card in his duffle bag. “Got it.”
His agent raised an eyebrow. “Are you calling that cute
little devil in the blue dress?”
Marcus smiled, but he was wary of his agent’s opinion.
“Yeah. You want to say something about it?”
“Not at all. I think she is a looker.”
Marcus was surprised by his candor. “You do? I
thought for sure you’d have something to say.”
“Why? Because she’s full-figured? I don’t care about
that stuff. Personally, I like a woman with meat on her
bones.”
“I never knew that, Ben.”
“You never asked.” He looked at his watch. “I’m going
to head over to the GM’s office. Make your call.”
“Okay, man. I’ll see you later.”

Whether in the city or at home. Cathy was a workaholic. When her kids were home she’d had their activities
to keep work and home balanced. With them away at
college, Cathy worked around the clock. In a last ditch
effort to get more down time, she’d tried establishing clear
boundaries between her rest area and office, but judging by
the
Publisher’s Weekly
on the night table, had failed miserably. Just as she leaned over to pick it up, she was startled
by the phone. She looked at the caller ID but didn’t recognize the number.
I better answer just in case. I don’t want
someone leaving a message on the wrong answering machine.

She picked it up. “Hello?”
“Hello. Cathy?”
Who in the hell is this?
She didn’t immediately recognize

the voice.
“I hope I didn’t wake you. Did you catch the game?”
Catherine was stunned for a moment. Marcus Fox was

actually calling her.
“I sure did. It was a good game and a win. You can’t
beat that.”
“So you finally recognized my voice.”
She felt flushed. “I was in shock. I didn’t expect you to
call.”
“Why?”
“Well, I’m ashamed to say it, but I thought you were
being polite when you asked for my home number.”
Marcus leaned against the wall. “Let me assure you I
didn’t ask for your number to be polite. I meet a lot of
women who give me their number whether I’ve asked for
it or not.” Marcus’s tone was clear and definite.
Cathy’s heart jumped into her throat. It took her a
moment to gulp it back down. “If today’s impromptu
fashion show was any indication, I don’t know how you do
it.”
“It comes with the territory.” He laughed.
Cathy seized the opportunity to change the subject.
“So you had a good night, 3 for 5 with three RBIs.”
“Everyone on the team did their part.”
“Always the good leader,” she said.
“So are you a night owl, Cathy?” He sounded playful.
“I have my moments, and most occur during baseball
season.”
He laughed. “I was calling about tomorrow afternoon’s
game.”
“I’m sure you don’t need any batting tips from me,” she
joked.
“I like a woman with a sense of humor.” He paused. “I
wondered if you would like to come to the game?”
She felt positively gleeful. “I’d love to.”
“Great, then maybe we can go out for dinner afterwards.”
Cathy tried to get her heart back into her chest again.
“Sure.” She tried to sound casual.
“Good. I’ll send a car to pick you up.”
“That won’t be necessary. I can take the LIRR into the
city and hit the subway from there. Do you know what
hell it is to drive to Yankee Stadium from the boroughs, let
alone Long Island?”
“I know it’s hell, but I’m trying to impress you. So
please let me send a car,” he insisted.
She grinned. “Okay.”
“Good. What’s the address?”
“4312 Great Neck Road, Amityville.”
“Amityville? As in the Amityville Horror?”
“The one and only. Except I live in North Amityville.
The horror house is in South Amityville.”
“So tell me, is the house really a horror?” he asked
jokingly.
“The only real horror in Amityville is the property
taxes and possibly the dating pool. Beyond that, it’s a
pretty cool place to live.”
He let out a big laugh. “That’s too funny.”
“I try.” She smiled.
“So let’s firm this up. I’ll have the car get you tomorrow
morning between ten thirty and eleven o’clock. Louis will
probably be there sooner rather than later.”
“Smart guy.”
“He knows what hell it is to drive to the stadium. Even
from Manhattan it’s a real bitch.”
“I bet.” She yawned. “Oh, I’m sorry. Excuse me.”
“Don’t worry about it, you’re entitled to be tired. I’ll let
you go.”
“Thanks for calling.”
“You’re welcome. I’m looking forward to tomorrow.”
“So am I. Have a good night.”
“You do the same.”
Cathy slipped under the covers, turned the light off
and stared into the darkness. She simply couldn’t believe it.
A few days earlier she’d thought she was on the edge of
growing into a single woman without cats. Cathy
wondered what the fates and Marcus Fox had in store for
her.

Just as Marcus closed his phone Ben walked over.
“Okay, you’re all set for tomorrow.”
“Great.”
“I even got Melvin to be her attendant for the game.”
“Fantastic.” He patted him on the back. “No one can

When Cathy’s alarm clock went off at 4:15
A
.
M
., she was
already awake but dawdling in bed. She finally got up when her
eyes focused on the time display. Fumbling around, she
grabbed her workout clothes and headed into the bathroom
where she washed her face, brushed her teeth, pinned her hair
up and changed.

After stopping in the kitchen for a water bottle she was on
her way. Contrary to the view most people have about fullfigured women, she made working out a part of her regimen
four times a week. Even though the gym had every workout
machine imaginable, Cathy walked the track. It helped to clear
her head before the day began at the literary agency. However,
today was different. She had to clear her head before her ‘date’
with Marcus Fox.

Leaving the house, Cathy walked into a wall of humidity.
“They’d better have on the air conditioning,” she mumbled
to herself. “God knows they collect enough dues to pay for it.”
Five minutes later Cathy pulled into the parking lot. There
was a line outside the door.
Honestly, you’d think they were giving
good bodies away on a first come, first serve basis.
She laughed to
herself.

Less than an hour but a world away from Cathy’s life,
Marcus was awakened by the sound of his trainer leaning on
the doorbell of his posh Manhattan penthouse. Mornings like
this Marcus wished he’d never given his trainer’s name and
photo to security. He dragged his body out of bed to answer the
door.

As he opened the door Marcus cringed at the sound of
George clapping his hands. “Come on, Marcus. You have to get
the lead out.” Even after 10 years of working together his cheeriness still reminded Marcus of a demented elf, which wasn’t too
much of a stretch since George was about a minute tall.
However, what he lacked in height he made up for in muscle
and unbridled enthusiasm.

Marcus grudgingly went into his bedroom to change while
George waited in his circuit training room. He put a club music
CD on.

“Aww man.” Marcus covered his ears. “Do you have to play
that stuff?”
“It pumps you up!” George shouted.
Marcus threw on his sweats and a t-shirt.
“It gives me a headache. Put on something with a little beat,
please. If I have to exercise this early in the morning I at least
want some music I can dance to.”
“As you wish.” George changed the CD and put on some
old school rap.
Marcus bopped his head to the beat. “Now that’s more like
it. I can exercise to this.”

Cathy was into her third lap when Melody Dickson
came in. Melody was one of those women who possessed
star quality and an almost royal-like presence whenever she
entered the gym, or a room for that matter. A former
model, she stood 6’1 without shoes. Her well-toned cocoa
brown body was enhanced by long shapely legs that seemed
to start at her shoulders. As if she needed any more charm,
her sparkling smile had the magical ability to turn grown
men into deer in headlights. One of the subjects in her
realm was Jason Martin, a personal trainer and musician. A
racquetball enthusiast, he had a court every morning and
every morning he was distracted by Melody. Cathy couldn’t
figure out how he avoided getting whiplash or hit by the
ball.

Melody dashed upstairs to join Cathy on the track. For
the most part Cathy didn’t mind the company even though
she knew the two of them looked like the female African
American version of Laurel and Hardy. That didn’t bother
her one bit because she liked Laurel and Hardy.

“Hey girl. What’s up?”
“Not much, Melody. How about you?”
“Same old thing, work stuff at the restaurant.”
“What’s going on there?”
“The usual nonsense since I’m the only female and I’m

the line manager. Guys don’t like women telling them what
to do. It’s just stupid.”
Cathy nodded. “I don’t know how you take it.”
“It’s all about the Benjamins.”
“I hear that.”
Melody looked around. “Speaking of Benjamin, have
you seen him today?”
“I don’t think he’s come in yet.”
A forensic accountant, Benjamin Green was a little bit
older, in great shape, smart, married and had a harmless
crush on Melody.
“I have to keep an eye out for him. I need to ask him a
couple of questions.”
“You’re still having trouble with your father’s estate? I
thought that was resolved.”
“Are you kidding? We’re still fighting over money and
real estate. It’s a mess.”
“It’s amazing what money does to people.”
“Tell me about it.”
Cathy noticed Jason staring at them. “We have an audience this morning.”
“I know.” Melody had a sly grin on her face.
“What’s going on? Or should I say what happened?”
Cathy asked.
“Let’s just say we got together for a little television.”
Cathy watched in disbelief as Jason bench-pressed over
200 pounds with a smile on his face.
“That must have been some program.”
Melody flashed her million-dollar grin. “I’ll say.”
“If you’re not going to give me details, at least tell me
which show it was. If nothing else I can at least TIVO it for
a rainy day.”
“You are too funny. What are you up to today?”
“I’m heading into the city later this morning.”
“Is it business or pleasure? That sounds good. At least
you travel off peak.”
“It’s business,” she lied. However, Melody seemed satisfied with the answer.
“Oh, before I forget, I wanted to ask you if you know
of a good esthetician.”
“I know several. What do you need done?” Cathy
asked.
“A bikini wax. A Brazilian bikini wax.”
“Oh that’s easy. I go to Lana’s Day Spa in the Village.”
“Really? She’s good?”
“Oh yeah. I was there about a week ago.”
“A bikini wax? Are you planning on getting busy with
someone you haven’t told me about?” Melody asked suspiciously
“Just because tourism has fallen off down the Brazilian
way doesn’t mean I shouldn’t keep the streets of Rio clean
and presentable on a moments notice. I do pride myself on
being ready to entertain.” Cathy grinned.
“Girl you know you are too funny.”
“I try.”
“You should get back in the game.”
“I will.”
Melody didn’t look convinced. “You always say that. In
fact, you’ve been saying that for the past two or three years.”
“I know I’m all talk.”
“Your boys are in college and you are all of 40 years old.
Do you know how many people would kill to be in your
position?”
“What? Overworked and overextended?”
“One day we’re going to have a serious conversation
about this.”
“I know, but I just can’t have that conversation today.”
Cathy looked at her watch. “It’s time for me to bounce. I
have to get my day started.”
“Okay, girl. I’m going to the ab room.” She patted her
non-existent stomach. “My stomach is getting so big.”
Cathy squinted to see what she was talking about.
“Melody, you don’t know what a real mid-section looks
like.” She patted her stomach. “Now here’s a real tummy.”
She looked. “You aren’t all that big there.”
“You know, I do love the smell of fiction in the
morning. I’m not sure I even have stomach muscles
anymore,” she said jokingly.
“You had kids. Twins no less.”
“Eighteen years ago. I think that excuse is way past its
expiration date.” She looked at her watch again. “I’ve really
got to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Cathy walked over to the
steps.
“See you later.”

Finally it was the cool down portion of Marcus’s
workout. George handed him a towel.
“You worked hard today.” George smiled
“Don’t I work out hard everyday?”
“Yes, you do.”
“What was so different from any other day?”
“Nothing, I guess.”
George tossed him a water bottle as he got off the treadmill.
“You want to stay for breakfast? Marta’s bringing something in.”
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.

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.