Not His Type (8 page)

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
.

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
.

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.

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.”
“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.”