Read Not His Type Online

Authors: Chamein Canton

Not His Type (9 page)

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.”
Marcus pretended to be worried. “Oh, I guess I’d better
watch where my eyes wander.”
Cathy was a little embarrassed; she’d made herself
sound like a real tough cookie. “I’m not that bad anymore.
I only get pissed when it’s done in a business setting. On a
date it’s not so bad as long as you remember that a person
comes with the breasts. We’re a package deal.”
Marcus wanted to howl with laughter but he remembered where they were. “I like your sense of humor.” He
chuckled.
Cathy was still giggling when the waiter took their
drink orders. As she glanced around the restaurant, it
honestly looked as if everyone had forgotten they’d come
there to eat.
Marcus glanced around. “Welcome to the fish bowl,”
he said, seeing all the attention register with her.
Cathy laughed as she looked around the room again.
“How strange is this?”
“You know how I said earlier that you get used to it?”
“Yeah?”
“Truth is, you never get used to it, you just learn to
adapt. It’s not easy.”
“I can see that.”
Cathy perused the menu. “My goodness, everything
looks so good.”
The waiter brought their drinks.
“Would you like to start with an appetizer?” he asked.
Cathy faced a moment of truth. Would she show
restraint and graze on a salad? Or give in to her growling
stomach? She hadn’t eaten anything that day other than a
couple of bites of toast without coffee. A little uncomfortable, she continued to scan the menu.
I might as well swing
for the fences and see what happens,
she thought.
She stepped up to the plate. “I think I’ll have the
butternut squash ravioli with oxtail ragout and bay leaf
cream.” Cathy was afraid of Marcus’s reaction but when she
looked up he was smiling.
“Good choice.” The waiter turned to Marcus. “And
you, sir?”
“I’ll have the tasting of fresh wild mushrooms.”
“Very good, sir. Do you want to order your entrée now?
Or do you need more time?”
Marcus looked at her. “Are you ready to order?”
Feeling a little emboldened she spoke up. “As a matter
of fact I am. I’ll have the sea scallops sauté with caramelized
endive.”
“And I’ll have the breast of free range chicken with
preserved lemon and Greek olives.”
“Thank you. I will be back with your appetizers
shortly.”
The vibe between them was relaxed and easy, just like
that of two old friends. Marcus studied her soft, cherrycolored lips as she sipped water. Friends didn’t watch
friends like that and he knew it. His mind raced at a
hundred miles a minute and he needed to rein himself in.
Slow down, get to know her first,
he told himself.
Talk about
her kids
. He piped up, “You know, I’d love to hear a little
more about your sons, Cathy.”
At first, Cathy looked at Marcus as if he’d grown
another head. She rarely met men who wanted to talk
about her kids. Whether he knew it or not, he’d just scored
big time. Alex and Andrew were the only subjects she liked
talking about more than the Yankees. And this night she
had the best of both worlds.
“Oh, haven’t I bored you enough with that already? You
know how we parents are. Once you get us started you’re
hard pressed to get us to shut up,” she said playfully.
“I’ll take my chances.” He took a sip of water. “Do they
have middle names?”
“Yes, and they’re going to sound truly pretentious.”
“How pretentious can it be?”
“Andrew Michael Chambers Carlyle and Alexander
Matthew Chambers Carlyle.”
“I think they sound great. They will be quite a
mouthful for a bride to remember, however.”
Cathy winced at the thought of her babies getting
married. “Oh, bite your tongue. I’m still trying to get used
to the dating stuff.”
He laughed. “I guess it’s the same for all moms everywhere.”
“It’s not like I’ve stopped them from dating. I’ve lived
through a couple of teen romances.”
Marcus made a face. “Teen angst combined with teen
romance? That couldn’t have been easy.”
“You have no idea.”
“Kind of makes you wonder how our parents did it.”
He laughed
Cathy chuckled softly; she obviously knew something
he didn’t.
“Girls today are really different. They are much more
assertive,” Cathy said.
“I know what you mean.”
“It used to be that guys would ask you for your phone
number. I don’t think my sons have ever had to. Girls give
them their home and cell phone numbers, along with their
email address and instant messenger IDs.”
Marcus laughed. “It sounds like they cover all their
bases.”
“Cover their bases? Hell, they blanket them.”
A passing thought made Marcus laugh.
Cathy was intrigued. “What’s so funny?”
“I was just thinking about today’s more aggressive
young women and their contact information.”
She was still a little puzzled. “What about it?”
“I guess I went old school when I asked you for your
number.”
“I guess you did.”
The two laughed together.
“It’s not easy watching your boys grow up, is it?”
“Yes and no. They are still my babies even though
Andrew is 6’2 and Alexander is 6’3. Somehow they never
stop being those little bundles I brought home from the
hospital.”
“Those are some pretty big babies.”
“I know.”
The waiter returned with their appetizers.
“That ravioli looks good. Mind if I have a bite?”
Marcus smiled.
“Be my guest,” she said.
Marcus liked that she was so willing to share. Cathy
wondered if she’d passed some kind of test.
He took a bite. “This is good. Would you like to try my
appetizer? Do you even like mushrooms?”
“I love mushrooms.” Before she could put her fork up
to get a mushroom he fed one to her.
A little taken aback, Cathy didn’t know whether it was
Chanterelle or Marcus’s feeding her the mushroom that
made it taste especially good. Chances were it was the latter
that had amped up her taste buds. “That’s terrific.” She
dabbed her mouth with a napkin.
“I know.” He paused to enjoy a few mushrooms. “So
what are your sons’ majors?”
“Andrew is a business finance and economics major and
Alexander is an adolescent education major with a concentration in African American and American history.”
He was impressed. “Wow, their majors are totally
different. They obviously have distinct personalities.”
“It’s been that way since birth. When they were babies
I got tired of looking like Rocky Raccoon breast feeding for
three months.”
Marcus was surprised. “You breast fed twins for three
months?”
She nodded. “I was a regular 7-11. That’s why I
switched to formula to make life easier. At least that was the
idea.”
“I guess they had other ideas.”
“Oh boy, did they ever. They didn’t even take the same
kind of bottles. Andrew went on Enfamil, Alexander went
on Isomil. I knew right then and there it was going to be
interesting.”
“So after all the late nights, bottles, formula, cuts and
bruises, would you say it was worth it?”
She answered without hesitation. “I couldn’t have better
sons if I’d mail ordered them.” She leaned in a little closer.
“Now what about you? What were you like growing up?”
Marcus settled into his seat. “I think I was a pretty well
adjusted kid. My parents were really involved in the school
so my sisters and I always had them in our corner.”
“Interracial couples are a little more accepted now, but
back then it wasn’t easy.” She’d read about his mother and
father.
“That’s the truth. Even though we lived in a
Northeastern state we were still close enough to farm
country to have a problem every now and then.”
“I give your parents a lot of credit. They managed to
give you and your sisters a good sense of yourself and your
heritage on both sides.”
Cathy was horrified by the strange look that came over
Marcus’s face. She thought she must have put her foot in
her mouth up to her knees. When the busboy came over to
clear away the appetizer plates, she said, “Listen, I apologize
if I said something out of line. It just came out.” She apologized as fast as she could.
“You don’t have to apologize. I’m not mad. It just
sounds like you have a better idea than most of what it’s like
to be bi-racial.”
Cathy tried to brush it off. “Didn’t you go out with…”
she blurted out. Horrified, she realized she’d inserted her
foot back into her mouth, only this time it was thigh high.
“I’m so sorry. I usually engage my brain before my mouth
gets in gear.”
“Don’t be sorry. You’re right, I have dated a few women
who are bi-racial like me. But it seems like you get it.”
“My maternal grandmother who was born in South
Carolina in 1904 had a white mother and a black father.”
“That couldn’t have been easy.”
“It wasn’t, especially after her father died and her
mother went back to her family. Grandma Salley was raised
by her father’s family.”
“Her mother never came back for her?”
“No. It was probably just as well. Her family wouldn’t
have accepted her and only God knows what would have
happened.”
“It’s a shame but that’s probably true,” he conceded. “Is
your mother an only child?”
“No. She has an older sister, Aunt Peg.”
“Your grandmother had only two kids?”
“Yes, but she helped to raise five, including three grandchildren. When my cousin Madison was born my grandmother lived with Aunt Peg until he went to pre-school.
Once my mother got pregnant with me, she came to live
with us and she took care of my sister and me.” Cathy
rubbed her eyes to hold back the tears. She had been close
to Grandma Salley and many of her happiest memories
were of times with her grandmother in the kitchen. Her
feelings stirred, Cathy exhaled to regain her composure.
“Are you all right?”
Cathy smiled warmly. “I’m fine. I just find myself
missing her at the oddest times.” She paused. “Anyway, I
remember how much I hated it when my friends would ask
us who that white lady at my house was.”
He made a face. “I know how that feels.”
”I guess that’s why I have such empathy for what you
and your family must have faced from people wanting to
draw color lines.”
“That’s a powerful observation.”
She nodded in agreement.
This is getting a little heavy for
dinner conversation.
“So how about we change the subject
just a little. I read somewhere that you were in the National
Honor Society.”
“I held my own.”
“Held your own? You were class valedictorian.”
He seemed bashful. “I did okay.”
“Am I making you uncomfortable?”
“No. This is just really different for me.”
“Different? How’s that?”
“Most women talk about the accoutrements of sports
and celebrity but not you.”
“I sound like a college interviewer, right?” Cathy’s selfeffacing humor made a brief appearance.
He laughed. “Not at all.”
“Well, to be honest, I find intelligence to be very attractive. In fact, that’s why you’re my favorite player.”
“Really?” He seemed pleased.
“Yes. You’re a great object lesson for teenage boys.”
“Oh, so this is a parental thing,” he joked.
She laughed. “Yes and no. Yes, because I could always
point to you as an athlete and a scholar who was voted most
likely to succeed.”
He sipped his water. “And no because?”
“Well, you were very cute in high school,” she said
coyly.
“I certainly hope you think I’ve improved with age.
High school was such a long time ago.”
“I do think you’ve improved with age.”
He smiled. “After all, I graduated almost 16 years ago.”
“If you think that’s a long time ago, I better not tell you
how long it’s been since I graduated.” She winked and he
flashed her that megawatt smile of his.
The waiter brought the entrees to the table. They
continued to chitchat about different things from politics
to movies. Cathy found his easy going manner disarming,
while he took note of her distinctive North meets South
blend of cosmopolitan sophistication and Old South
gentility.
“So you grew up watching the Yankees, too,” Cathy
noted.
He smiled. “Yeah, I just knew I wanted to wear
pinstripes and be just like those guys.”
Cathy put her fork down. “Things are a lot different
these days. Years ago you only saw athletes during their
regular season. Now with all these endorsement deals
athletes are in the spotlight 365 days a year.”
Marcus’s mind went back to the deal he’d signed the day
before. “You’re right.” He tried not to grimace.
Suddenly Cathy remembered Marcus had several
endorsements and quickly used a Seinfeld catch phrase.
“Not that there is anything wrong with that.”
He laughed. “No offense taken. You’re right, it is a
different business. We’re offered hefty endorsement deals
and most athletes, including me, take them.”
“I’m not passing judgment,” she insisted.
“I didn’t think you were. It is what it is and most of the
time it’s a mixed blessing,” he reassured her. “Nowadays
there is a lot more money and a whole lot more exposure
and responsibility.”
“Do you ever think about that kid who might have your
poster on his bedroom door?” Cathy was thinking about
her own sons.
He got serious. “I think about that kid all the time.
That’s why I do my best to set a good example and keep my
nose clean. It doesn’t make for good copy, but it keeps me
out of trouble.”
Marcus wished just keeping his nose clean was enough.
The media focused a lot of attention on his love life so a
night without the paparazzi or Lisa Spellman was a rare
treat. If only for one evening Marcus was like any other guy
trying to make a good impression on Cathy.
“You’re a very wise man, Marcus.”
“Thank you.” He found it easy to talk to Cathy.
Cathy felt the same way, so much so that it threw her
for a loop.

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