Not His Type Read Online Free Page A

intro to
Beyonce’s “Crazy in Love”. Cathy was as confident as she’d
ever been in her life with her size 16/18 body.
    Cathy stepped off the escalator near Herald Square and
continued her strut before she stopped to look at her reflection in the window of Macy’s. Turning her body slightly,
she made sure the v-neck shirt dress revealed a hint of her
size 40 DD cleavage in just the right way. With her breasts
she made quite an impression when she entered a room.
She gave herself one last check. Everything as it should be,
she continued her booty-licious assault on 34th street.
    A welcome rush of cool air greeted Cathy as she arrived
at Keen’s around twelve forty-five. Though she’d enjoyed
her walk, she didn’t feel much like waiting around to get a
table and Keen’s was crowded. Lucky for her she didn’t have
a long wait.
    “Cathy!” Dahlia, Keens’ exuberant and beautiful
hostess, came over with arms outstretched for a hug. “How
are you, darling? You look wonderful.” Dahlia had a way of
making everything she said sound like a song.
“I’m good, Dahlia. How are you?”
    She shrugged her shoulders. “I can’t complain.” Dahlia’s
warm smile brightened once again. “How about we get you
a table?”
    “That would be lovely,” Cathy sighed.
“Follow me.” She grabbed a couple of menus.
Cathy followed Dahlia through the dining room to a
    place near some gorgeous young women, all of whom
looked like models; the table was a virtual kaleidoscope of
beautiful women of all colors. Cathy felt a sense of dread. Oh God, it figures I’m actually hungry this afternoon. Should
I wait and let Dahlia find another table further away? No
sooner did the thought enter her mind, than she dismissed
it. Keen’s was rather crowded and she was hungry; that was
the bottom line. Besides, her client, Jim Weil, would surely
appreciate the view more than she.
    “Here you go, darling.” Dahlia placed the menus on the
table.
Cathy sat down. “Thanks, Dahlia.”
“Anything for my favorite literary agent.”
Cathy grinned. “I told you, when you’re ready to do
your book let me know. I know you have stories to tell.”
Dahlia leaned closer to the table. “You don’t know the
half of it.” She winked.
“Well, I can’t wait to find out.”
“I’ll send the waiter over to take your drink order. Bon
appétit.”
“Thanks again.”

v
    Across the room Ben and Marcus were discussing a little
business with a good steak lunch. While Ben had a cold
beer, it was game night for Marcus and he nursed a
Pellegrino with a twist.
    “So are you excited about this deal?” Ben asked as he
sipped his beer.
“Sure.”
“You don’t sound excited.”
“Of course I’m excited. I think signing with Abe’s dealership was a good idea.”
“I’m glad you think so. I wasn’t sure you were paying
attention.”
He chortled. “I was paying attention. Just because…”
Marcus stopped mid-sentence when he saw Cathy. Hair
bouncing, she smiled at her waiter, obviously engaged in a
minor flirtation. A born breast man, his eyes immediately
zeroed in on her cleavage. Driven to distraction, he kept
missing as he tried blindly to slice a non-existent slice of
steak on his plate.
Ben chuckled as he wiped his mouth. He’d seen this
look before. “Marcus?”
He snapped out of his trance. “You were saying, Ben?”
Ben put his napkin down. “You haven’t heard a word I
said.” He looked around. “So where are they?”
“Where are who?”
“The breasts that have you mesmerized. I know they
have to be around here somewhere.” His eyes searched the
room.
Marcus knew he was caught. He laughed. “The hostess
just seated a woman in a blue dress.”
Ben tried not to be too obvious. “Yeah, I see the
hostess.”
“I’m not talking about the hostess. I’m talking about
the woman in the blue dress.” He looked closer. “She’s
almost directly across from us. I think it’s a Yankee blue
dress.”
Ben scanned the room, then spotted Cathy.