Mr Romance Tips! "Pinhole Glasses!" Having a CRYSTAL-LIKE EYE SIGN!

Dear Readers,

Do you having any eye problems? Not sure how to solve it? Let Mr Romance help you out!

Recently, I come across some very amazing eye care, or infect eye sign improving products - Pinhole Glasses! And such though of sharing it with you guys!

To those whom wearing spec like me should know the pain by having need to swap among spectacles for different situation, or infect environment.

Hence, i would strongly recommend you guys try out the Pinhole Glasses! Following is some short details about how does this cheap, but YET AMAZING thing work!

How Does Pinhole Works?

It is easy to understand why pinhole glasses have been used for years for correcting vision. But before that, a basic understanding of how our eyes work is essential.

Light enters our eyes through the curve shaped outer surface called Cornea. This shape allows light rays from different angles to converge and enter the pupil inside the eye as a single beam.

Our eyes adjust the pupil, next, to control the amount of light that goes through. This is helpful in a low light environment when the pupil enlarges to take in as much light as possible.

The regulated beam of light exits the pupil, goes through the lens and falls on the retina, which is where the images that we see are formed.

But before they pass through the lens, the ciliary muscles attached to the lens contract or relax and so, adapt the shape of the lens. This is critical in producing the right image on the retina. To view nearby objects, the muscles contract and change the shape of the lens. When viewing far-off images, the muscles relax and allow the lens to take its natural shape.

The image so produced falls on the retina, the actual light sensitive part of your eyes. Optic nerves attached behind the retina transmits information about the image to our brain. The brain analyses the image and we “see”.

How do eye problems occur and how pinhole glasses help?

All parts of our eyes have to work perfectly for us to see. Sometimes, the ciliary muscles become too weak. They are not able to adapt the shape of the lens as much as required. At other times, either the cornea or the eyeball may be deformed. These eye problems prevent the light rays passing through the lens from forming an image on the retina. The image is formed either in front or behind it.

In such a case, angled light rays cause an unfocused image to form on the retina. These images distort the clear image being formed by direct rays entering your eyes.

Pinhole Glasses work by feeding the pupil with direct rays as far as possible. Light rays coming at extreme angles require a large amount of refraction by your lens to form the correct image. Wearing pinhole glasses prevent these rays from entering your eyes. This checks them from distorting the image and consequently you see a better image. This image is of better definition, clarity and brightness.

So now guys, having a more deeper understanding about this amazing Pinhole Glasses already? So what are you waiting for? Get a pair now, to correct and solve your eye problem, Mr Romance wish to recommend a highly reputation and reliable shop for your consideration!

Click Here To Enter The Shop Now!

Man - YOU NEED IT!

Today, Mr.Romance wish to introduce a Fantastic Web for all the MAN!

Wondering what is this? Let's play a game, guess the thing with the clue below:

1. Man need it, almost daily!
2. It's small and easy to carry around!

And, I believe all the clever reader should know what is this yea?!

Yesh! Electric Shavers

All the man will need this small yet powerful shaver daily to make sure they looking the BEST!

However there its miillion or perhaps billions, nah i mean just so many brands that will make you confuse which Shaver suit you Best!

Now, Finally Today! You can say "GOOD BYE" to this, as Mr.Romance going to introduce you to this Web which tell you how to choose a Electric Shaver which is best for you!

Now, stop wondering what is this, and CLICK HERE to visit!

P/S: Psss! I suppose your gf will not like the feeling of being hurt by ur "Sharp Edge", so go get a suitable Shaver now!

Read before dating a MAN!

To all ladies worldwide, check out this new site http://www.WomanSavers.com. It's the world's largest database rating men targeting abusive and cheating men. There are tens of thousands of men's names entered by women to promote safer dating worldwide. It's women networking together to share their stories and experiences to bring the good guys to the top and the bad to the bottom.WomanSavers has tons of free resources for women and donates a percentage of their proceeds to abused women and children's charities. Over 300,000 women have been polled on infidelity, sex, relationship and dating topics. http://www.womansavers.com/relationship-polls.asp

Website highlights include:
*In the top 15% most popular women's websites in the world
* #1 most popular abused women's forum on the net
* Free medical advice from a volunteer doctor
* Free psychotherapy advice from a psychotherapist specializing in sociopaths and narcissists
* Free custom women's cartoon comedies and women's games
http://www.womansavers.com/womens-games.asp
http://www.womansavers.com/funny-ecards.asp
* Free tarot card readings

It's always good to have some preparation before you put yourself into any dating, SCREEN YOUR DATING by visiting on top mentioned web for more informations!

Holiday? Cheap Hotel For You!

Greeting All,

Thinking of relaxing yourself by treating yourself with a wonderful holiday trip?

Today Mr.Romance wish to introduce some good holiday location PLUS CHEAP HOTEL GUIDE FOR YOU!

1. Amsterdam @ Netherlands
From Amsterdam coffee shops to all of the great museums and other fun things to do in the city, travel to Amsterdam is only growing in popularity. Once you’ve booked a flight to Amsterdam and are ready to travel to Amsterdam, get ready to be wowed by this incredible city.
The long history of Amsterdam has resulted in a city that is today one of the most beautiful, welcoming and relaxed in the world.

Recommended Amsterdam Hotel: Click Here For Cheap Amsterdam Hotels

2. Athens @ Greece
For most visitors the highlight of a visit to ATHENS (Athína in modern Greek) is the stunning vestiges of the ancient, Classical Greek city, most famously represented by the Acropolis and its surrounding archeological sites. Even on a brief visit, however, it is a shame to see Athens purely as the location of ancient sites and museums. Although the neighbourhoods may lack the style and monuments of most European capitals, they are worth at least some exploration.

Recommended Athens Hotel: Click Here For Cheap Athens Hotels

3. Greece
At the ancient site of Delphi, where the Greeks once consulted the Oracle about the future, there's a small round sculpture. It's known as the omphalos -- the cosmic belly button. The Greeks believed that Delphi was the very center of the world -- the place where everything came into being. Indeed, many aspects of Western culture came into being in Greece -- drama, art, philosophy and science.

Recommended Greece Hotel: Click Here For Cheap Greece Hotels

-------
Hope you all enjoy the above mentioned holiday tips! And hereby wishing all a Happy New Year Holiday!

Romantic Stories Collection: Love with the Proper Killer Part 7 Final

"See if I care," I told him, feeling an emptiness inside which I told myself was missing dinner. I turned toward the kitchen.

"But I care," a voice said from behind me. Before I could move a hand was clamped over my mouth. Another grabbed my arm and twisted it behind me.

"So you figured it out, did you?," the voice continued. "I thought you'd blame that fancy boyfriend of yours but when you called, I knew you hadn't. Too bad, baby. We could've been good together."

"Mac? I mumbled through his fingers squeezing my lips. "Your own aunt?"

"My own very rich aunt. Owns a string of buildings like this but she just kept living on and on with those damn canaries and she treated me like an errand boy. That Jerry you're so fond of just happened by at the right time. Once I get the guy across the hall to I.D. him, I'm home free."

I tried to break free. Mac's fingers dug into my lips. I tasted blood. His other hand twisted my arm till I thought I could hear the bones crack.

I bit down as hard as I could on the hand around my mouth. He jerked away and I screamed.

"Now you'll get it like all the others, bitch!" Mac shouted.

Still holding my arm, he reared back to belt me. At that moment something large, furry and furious with all the commotion and noise, leaped onto his head like one of those alien creatures that eat your brain.

It was Mac's turn to scream and he did while lethal paws scratched at his eyeballs, dug into his scalp and took great strips of skin off his back.

I rushed to the door and yanked it open, gasping. Mr. Jaspers was standing in the hall. "Wild party, huh? You got a cat in there?"

"What I've got is Mrs. Patrickson's killer. Call the police."

Leaving his door open, Mr. Jaspers went back towards the phone. I stood in the hall, listening to the screaming. Poor Fitzhugh, I thought. I hoped he didn't get any nasty disease from biting Mac.

Mac was staggering around, cursing and tripping over furniture, blood running down his face, when the police arrived with their sirens blaring. All the tenants on my floor crowded into the hall to watch Mac led out in handcuffs. Fitzhugh washed his face and looked smug. It was the first time I felt favorably towards a cat.

Next day I went to the hospital. Jerry was sitting up in bed, one leg in a cast. "Donna," he said huskily, taking my hand in both of his. "I was afraid I'd lost you."

"Whatever gave you that idea?" He looked pale but great, the dark hair mussed, five o'clock shadow on the strong, firm jaw. I told him about Mac. "The police think he's the one who's been attacking all those women, using his role as a property manager." I waited for him to ask about his cat.

"Oh my love. Did he hurt you? Are you all right?" He was stroking my hair and suddenly I was sobbing in his arms.

"I'm an idiot," he was saying. "I hope you aren't going to let a little thing like a cat come between us." He kissed my neck, my cheek, my lips. "I could give him to my mother."

"Oh, no. We've reached an understanding. I think I could learn to like him," I murmured, "given the right teacher." I would never tell him how close we had come to losing each other, due to my overactive imagination.

Cupid may have been a day late this year, but the way I see it, Jerry and I still have forever.

Romantic Stories Collection: Love with the Proper Killer Part 6

"See if I care," I told him, feeling an emptiness inside which I told myself was missing dinner. I turned toward the kitchen.

"But I care," a voice said from behind me. Before I could move a hand was clamped over my mouth. Another grabbed my arm and twisted it behind me.

"So you figured it out, did you?," the voice continued. "I thought you'd blame that fancy boyfriend of yours but when you called, I knew you hadn't. Too bad, baby. We could've been good together."

"Mac? I mumbled through his fingers squeezing my lips. "Your own aunt?"

"My own very rich aunt. Owns a string of buildings like this but she just kept living on and on with those damn canaries and she treated me like an errand boy. That Jerry you're so fond of just happened by at the right time. Once I get the guy across the hall to I.D. him, I'm home free."

I tried to break free. Mac's fingers dug into my lips. I tasted blood. His other hand twisted my arm till I thought I could hear the bones crack.

I bit down as hard as I could on the hand around my mouth. He jerked away and I screamed.

"Now you'll get it like all the others, bitch!" Mac shouted.

Still holding my arm, he reared back to belt me. At that moment something large, furry and furious with all the commotion and noise, leaped onto his head like one of those alien creatures that eat your brain.

It was Mac's turn to scream and he did while lethal paws scratched at his eyeballs, dug into his scalp and took great strips of skin off his back.

I rushed to the door and yanked it open, gasping. Mr. Jaspers was standing in the hall. "Wild party, huh? You got a cat in there?"

"What I've got is Mrs. Patrickson's killer. Call the police."

Leaving his door open, Mr. Jaspers went back towards the phone. I stood in the hall, listening to the screaming. Poor Fitzhugh, I thought. I hoped he didn't get any nasty disease from biting Mac.

Mac was staggering around, cursing and tripping over furniture, blood running down his face, when the police arrived with their sirens blaring. All the tenants on my floor crowded into the hall to watch Mac led out in handcuffs. Fitzhugh washed his face and looked smug. It was the first time I felt favorably towards a cat.

Next day I went to the hospital. Jerry was sitting up in bed, one leg in a cast. "Donna," he said huskily, taking my hand in both of his. "I was afraid I'd lost you."

"Whatever gave you that idea?" He looked pale but great, the dark hair mussed, five o'clock shadow on the strong, firm jaw. I told him about Mac. "The police think he's the one who's been attacking all those women, using his role as a property manager." I waited for him to ask about his cat.

"Oh my love. Did he hurt you? Are you all right?" He was stroking my hair and suddenly I was sobbing in his arms.

"I'm an idiot," he was saying. "I hope you aren't going to let a little thing like a cat come between us." He kissed my neck, my cheek, my lips. "I could give him to my mother."

"Oh, no. We've reached an understanding. I think I could learn to like him," I murmured, "given the right teacher." I would never tell him how close we had come to losing each other, due to my overactive imagination.

Cupid may have been a day late this year, but the way I see it, Jerry and I still have forever.

Romantic Stories Collection: Love with the Proper Killer Part 5

The doorbell rang. Oh, no. Jerry was here before I'd decided what to do. How could I go out with him with these suspicions crowding into my mind? And if he suspected I knew, what then? I'd been thinking I'd just call the whole thing off, but here he was.

I opened the door. "Donna, you look great, as always."

"Just my office clothes. I haven't had a chance to change yet."

"Come just as you are. You always look wonderful to me." Jerry looked deep into my eyes. I stepped back and reached for my coat. Well, I had to eat. Lou Ann and Laurence were coming along, anyway. They'd wonder where we were if we didn't show up. I could decide what to do at dinner. Maybe I could slip out and call the police before we left.

There was valet parking at the fine Italian restaurant. Jerry handed over the keys to the Caddy calmly. I was sure he had the cat along. I refused to look in the back, just in case.

Inside, Lou Ann and Laurence waved to us from a table. "Won't you join us?" Laurence asked, just as though I hadn't set the whole thing up.

"Delighted." Jerry gave me a bemused look. "Shall we?"

"Fine," I said, feeling miffed that he didn't want me all to himself. What was the matter with me? Did I want to be alone with what was probably a psychotic killer on Valentine's Day? While not terminally brain-dead, I still felt a twinge of regret as he pulled out the heavy dark chair with the velvet seat for me and his long, slender fingers ruffled a tendril of hair on my neck.

Stringed instruments were playing love songs through the ages. Candles were flickering, voices were soft and intimate. It could have been a wonderful evening with the right man. Maybe Mac next year, if I survived the evening. But something wistful in me still cried, 'Jerry, Jerry, Jerry'.

I forced myself to study the wine list. Jerry was murmuring something in French to the maitre 'd, looking suave, competent and throughly adorable. I kicked Lou Ann under the table, to stop her from drooling. When I straightened up, Jerry seemed to have gone suddenly berserk. He leaped to his feet, overturning the thick crystal goblets of water onto the snowy white linen cloth.

"That's my car!" he yelled.

Under the bright lights that lit the entryway, his Caddy was coming slowly around the circular drive, blocked in for a moment by a driver who was backing up. I'd heard that sometimes parking attendants take these little joy rides when they think the patron's safely inside for an hour or so.

Jerry was already on his feet and running for the door with a sea of fascinated diners staring after him. "Hey!" I could hear him bellow as he swung the door open.

Several things happened at once. The driver in the front seat saw him through the rear view window, attempted to reverse, floored it and drove into Jerry and the side of the building with a resounding crash, just as Jerry was crossing behind the car. Then he leaped from the driver's side and ran away into the darkness.

"Somebody call an ambulance!" I heard the maitre d' shout as I hurried towards Jerry. Laurence beat me to the scene.

"Just lie still," I heard him saying. He took off his jacket and threw it over Jerry while he tried to keep him quiet. "There's an ambulance coming."

"Fitzhugh," Jerry said weakly.

"I'm sure he's all right. Don't worry. I'll take care of him," I promised like a fool.

Although the car looked like a write-off, the cat carrier had unfortunately survived intact. It lay upside down in the front seat with a very angry occupant.

The ambulance came screaming up. I watched as they loaded his now unconscious body onto the stretcher. What a Valentine's Day. First Mrs. Patrickson. Now Jerry. More like a Valentine Massacre.

"I'll just go along home, if you don't mind, Lou Ann," I said. "Thanks for all you've done."

"Call me," she said, pressing my hand. She looked genuinely sorry for me. I got into the Corvette with Fitzhugh in the cat carrier. As I drove out I saw them going back to the restaurant, peppered with questions from fascinated diners who were standing around watching.

Oh, Jerry, who are you? I thought and felt weepy for no reason. After all, I reminded myself, he probably tried to kill me, psychopath that he was, and got Mrs. Patrickson instead.

As I stepped off the elevator, the cat carrier bumped against my legs. The police tape and notice on Mrs. Patrickson's door seemed like a warning. Be careful. Watch out.

I went bravely into my apartment, set the carrier down and opened its door. Fitzhugh stayed where he was, glaring.

Romantic Stories Collection: Love with the Proper Killer Part 4

Next morning they came to change the locks. It was Valentine's Day. Shop windows were full of cupids and chocolates. Love was in the air but the man I had chosen had a cat that came first in his heart. We would never make it together. Dinner tonight would be our last date, I promised myself. Why go on making us both miserable?

At noon a dozen red roses came to the office. The card inside said, "Thanks for giving us another chance." It was signed by Jerry but there was a pawprint underneath.

I fussed around till five, then cleared my desk and called Lou Ann. "Could you doubledate at such short notice? "

"On such a romantic evening? Of course. Laurence probably doesn't even know what day it is. And who knows? Maybe Jerry will fall for me. You saw 'When Harry Met Sally', didn't you?"

"Jerry and I are probably finished," I said, "but until I let you know, hands off."

"Bringing another couple along isn't going to help, you know," Lou Ann said.

"It'll keep us from having an unpleasant memory on Valentine's Day. Which we will, if you don't come."

"We'll be there, don't worry."

I pulled my little blue corvette out into rush hour traffic and turned the radio on. "An elderly woman was attacked and killed today in her apartment at Main and Charles..."

My apartment was at Main and Charles. I braked for a yellow light and turned the sound up. "Police believe Mrs. Gilroy Patrickson, 75, was another victim in a series of assaults that have terrorized this South side community..."

How awful for Mac, I thought, as tears ran down my face. How awful for us all.

The carpet outside my door looked as though many pairs of dirty boots had been trampling it. There was yellow police tape criss-crossed outside Mrs. Patrickson's door, with an official notice forbidding entry. I felt tears in my eyes as I looked at it. The elevator opened behind me. I turned and Mac stepped off.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," I opened my arms and Mac fell into them. I patted him awkwardly on the shoulder. "Did they catch the man who did it?"

He shook his head and stepped back. "I'd just left. He must've been watching for me to go. If only I'd stayed a little longer..."

"Don't think about it. Will you need any help with the arrangements?"

"No. My mom's taking care of the... funeral and all that. But thanks for offering. I just came from police headquarters. I thought maybe if I came back I'd see something they'd overlooked but..."

"I'd just leave it to the police. They'll will find him, sooner or later."

"I guess you're right. She was very fond of you, you know."

I nodded. It was hard to talk. Mac punched the ground floor button and held my hand till the elevator came.

My apartment seemed very vulnerable when I opened the door. I stood in the doorway, looking around. Whoever had killed Mrs. Patrickson could crawl in any of the windows. We were only on the third floor. Terrorized. The radio had it right.

"Bad news, Donna," Mr. Jaspers, the retired plumber across the hall, opened his door. "Fine lady."

"Yes, she was. "

"Some guy came around looking for you, right before."

"This morning?"

"Said so, didn't I? Had your keys." He started to close his door.

"Wait! Mr. Jaspers." He eyed me suspiciously.

"What?"

"Tell me what he looked like. Please?"

"Tall. Dark hair. Tweed coat." His door closed firmly.

Cat hairs, I added, mentally. Keys? Mrs. Patrickson's spare key had been on that ring. What if--? No. It couldn't have been Jerry. Besides he wouldn't know what key opened what. He could have tried them, a small voice in my head said. He might've tried your door and then hers and she wouldn't've thought anything, supposing it was just Mac coming back, till it was too late...

I crossed the hall and pounded on Jasper's door.

"Go away." He was looking through the peep hole.

"Mr. Jaspers. Did you tell the police?"

"None of my business."

Oh great. So it was up to me to let them know that possibly I was dating Mrs. Patrickson's killer and then they'd want to wire me up for our date to get some incriminating evidence on Jerry. And then they'd arrest him but his lawyer would get him off and he'd come looking for me...

But I didn't call the police either. It couldn't have been Jerry. He was too nice, too honest. But he'd lied about not having the keys, a little voice said. He probably wouldn't have mentioned them at all if Mr. Jaspers hadn't surprised him holding them, in the act of breaking in. What other explanation could he have given?

Perhaps he was planning to let himself in and wait for me, like he had for all those other women. When he found my locks were changed, he settled for my neighbour...

But how could he know Mr. Jaspers wouldn't tell the police? That was easy. Anyone talking to the old curmudgeon for two minutes would know he didn't give up anything voluntarily. It was only by chance he'd told me.

I'd talk it over with Mac. Maybe he could decide if I was just imagining things. I went downstairs and got his number from Masterson. "Anything I can take care of, Donna?" the old fellow said. "No need to bother the boss with every little thing."

"This is personal, thanks." I went home and punched in his number.

"Mac Patrickson."

"Mac, I--" There was a little beep as his answering machine came on. "Call me," I said and gave my number.

Romantic Stories Collection: Love with the Proper Killer Part 3

"You're home early." Mac was just getting into the elevator when I stepped out.

"Not soon enough." I started to brush past him.

"I was thinking, well, maybe this isn't a good time," Mac hesitated. "I was just going down to the diner on the corner for a burger. But I suppose you've eaten?"

"I'd love to," I made a quick decision and it wasn't till we were sitting in a back booth over coffee that I realized how I must look with my pantyhose flapping around my ankles. Mac hadn't even snickered.

He was good company. Mac worked as a property manager, he said. Our building was on his list. I had to admit it was well-kept up. He didn't have any pets, a real plus and he did have a lot of funny stories about tenants who had them, that kept me laughing.

"This large woman sat on her Chihuahua ..." he began and I watched the corners of his eyes crinkle like Mrs. Patrickson's did. He was wearing a yellow sweater over a white shirt, very collegiate. Our waitress came and he joked with her and left a big tip.

I'd almost forgotten about the horrible start to the evening when Mac walked me back to the lobby. "I'll be fine," I told him when it looked as though he was going to come on up.

"You sure? See you again soon, then. It's been... terrific."

When I reached my apartment there were no keys in my purse. I thought back to the bag falling open in Jerry's apartment. Oh well. I ran down the stairs to Mr. Masterson, the superintendent. Mac was still there, talking.

"I can let you in. Just take a minute." Mac took a ring of master keys from a hook near the door.

"No, its fine. Mr. Masterson has had to do this lots of times".

"I wouldn't take losing your keys lightly, Donna," Mac frowned. "With all these attacks on women in this area, lately. I think we'd better have your locks changed. In the meantime, you can borrow the master."

Jerry called at the end of the week to say how much he missed me. "It was my fault," he said. "I should have prepared you for meeting him. Fitzhugh was mistreated as a kitten so it's hard for him to trust."

"Me too," I said.

"I thought he'd be familiar with you by now. I've taken him on all our dates."

"What?? You and me and Fitzhugh?"

"He's been in the backseat. In his cat carrier," he said hastily. "It gets lonely in the apartment and I don't like to leave him overnight. I take him with me everywhere. So I thought he'd sort of know you already. I'm sorry. Please let me pay for having your shoes repaired."

"No need," I lied, looking at the toe of one pump protruding from the trash I'd been about to take to the incinerator when he called.

"Show you forgive me and let me take you to dinner tomorrow. It's Valentine's Day, after all," he said with a plea in his voice. He named a restaurant I'd been dying to try but not alone. "At seven?"

"All right," I said, hating myself for being weak. There was something about the man. "By the way, Jerry, did you find a set of keys after I left?"

"No," he said. He sounded truthful. "Were they important?"

"Nothing special. See you tomorrow."

Romantic Stories Collection: Love with the Proper Killer Part 2

"Don't look so worried. He'll love you," Jerry said as he opened the door to his late model Caddy.

'He'? Guess it wouldn't be his mother I'd be meeting tonight. My heart sank. Jerry was going to tell me he was gay and he'd tried one last time to see if he could be straight and I was it and he couldn't, so now we'd have drinks with his lover and he'd say we could still be friends...

I didn't say much on the drive over. We pulled into the underground parking for his building and took the elevator to the tenth floor.

Jerry turned his key in the lock of 1003. I had just decided on a gracious approach to whoever he introduced as his lover.

"This is Fitzhugh," Jerry said, throwing the door open with one hand as though there would be trumpets blowing somewhere and Clinton or maybe even Newt Gingrich would come out.

I stepped forward, set my purse down on a table beside the door and held out my hand. But there was no one in the room. It was a pleasant enough apartment; a long bank of windows along one wall, some plants and comfortable furniture in greens and browns.

So I'd guessed wrong again. Jerry didn't want me to meet his mother and he wasn't gay; he was crazy. Fitzhugh was a hallucination, like that rabbit, Harvey, in that old Jimmy Stewart movie.

Jerry had lured me up here to meet his imaginary friend who would find fault with me and they would find my lifeless body several days later in the park behind some bushes...

At least Mac and his aunt had gotten a look at him, I told myself, sidling back towards the door. He won't get away with it. Jerry didn't seem the killer type but then that's what all the girlfriends and neighbours say on the tabloid shows after some maniac's been arrested. Even serial killers have a social life...

"This is my cat, Fitzhugh," Jerry was repeating politely.

I looked down. A feline monstrosity stared up at me. It was a lustrous black with glittery gold eyes, big enough to operate a can opener all by itself.

"I can tell he likes you," Jerry said. "He's fussy about his friends."

Yeah, sure, I thought. I have a theory about people who are too close to their cats. Not a normal relationship.

"See how good we look together?" He indicated the mirror in front of us. There we were, Jerry's dark good looks, my slim blonde self and what looked like a furry demon glowering on the floor between us. That old saying about three's a crowd sure applied here.

Jerry moved closer and drew me into his arms. I lifted my lips to be kissed, closing my eyes and feeling the rough tweed of his jacket against my cheek. 'Oh Jerry,' I thought, 'why couldn't it have been your mother?'

Something raked my ankles as I kissed him back. I looked down. My pantyhose fell in shreds over my pumps. Fitzhugh was just taking a large bite out of my left heel. Then he stalked away to whatever dark places he inhabited in that apartment.

"Donna?" Jerry moved and knocked my purse to the floor. "Sorry." He picked it up and jammed the contents back any old way. "Am I jumping the gun here? I mean, I don't want you to think I'm a date rapist or something. I haven't brought a woman up here in a long time."

And he wouldn't again, if Fitzhugh has anything to say about it, I thought. I was still staring at the gouge in my heel. The cat had scratched the suede off the right pump. I'd have to toss the shoes.

Jerry looked down. "Ohmigod, did Fitzhugh do that?"

"Oh, no. I came over here with my pantyhose down around my ankles, cat scratches and gouges in my shoes."

"You don't need to be sarcastic. I'm sure it was an accident. Fitzhugh probably smelled another cat on you."

"I haven't been around any cats. Ever."

"Maybe that next door neighbour, Mrs. Patrickson, has cats. She seems like a cat person."

"Canaries. She hates cats."

"Perhaps you hate Fitzhugh too?"

"Darn right I do," I said. I grabbed my purse and stomped out feeling the draft around my ankles. Cat: 1, Girlfriend: 0.