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across his pad.
    So far Craig was an excellent communicator, had good manners, and apparently had some kind of list he was keeping to . . . what? Rate our date?
    “Allow me.” He scooped servings of chow mein, kung pao chicken, and fried rice onto our plates. Then he placed a napkin in his lap, picked up his fork in lieu of the chopsticks, and took a tentative bite of his noodles. “Interesting texture. Different flavor, but all in all, very pleasing.”
    “Hmm.” I stuffed a forkful of chow mein into my mouth, considered an evaluation of my own, and came up with nothing. It was Chinese food, after all. Not a work of art.
    He swallowed and gestured with his fork. “What do you think?”
    I’d never been to Wok N’ Roll before, but it tasted like normal Chinese food to me. “It’s good.”
    “Okay.” He nodded, then moved his head back and forth as if in thought. “How would you say it compares to other Chinese restaurants you’ve been to? Is this pretty average? Or exceptional, perhaps? If I were going to try another Chinese restaurant, would the chow mein taste similar to this one or does Wok N’ Roll have their own spin on the dish?”
    “Come on, Craig. I’m a customer service rep, not a professional food critic.” I started to laugh, then realized he wasn’t joining in. Oops, cracking jokes must’ve carried over from doggy class and weren’t flying as well here.
    “I know you’re not a food critic. You work for a software company.” His voice held a defensive tone. “But, I value your opinion and you certainly have more experience than I do this area.”
    Why did chow mein have to be a serious topic? But, that should be fine. Right? I mean, he asked my opinion because he valued my thoughts. Even though he’s known me all of twenty minutes. Well, plus a month or so of email exchanges. And, wouldn’t most women find it gratifying to have a man communicate this much? I mean, how many times had my girlfriends and I complained that men never say what they’re thinking? And here Craig was actually doing it.
    So, why was it so freaking annoying?
    I set my fork down and leaned forward. “I’d say it’s average chow mein. It’s good, has all the right stuff, but I’ve had better.”
    “Really? Where?” His notepad was in his hand again. “I’ll be sure to take you there next time.”
    Next time? We weren’t even done with this time, but I gave him the name and directions to my favorite Chinese restaurant downtown. Then, I vowed to chill through the rest of the meal because he really was a nice guy. 
    At the end of the date, he walked me to my car and asked me out for Thursday. I accepted. So, the guy had a list. I did, too. And he was meeting all of my compatibility requirements, so what kind of hypocrite would I be if I didn’t go out with him a second time?
    Still, something nagged at me and I couldn’t figure out what. I guess that’s why I went home, logged onto the Detailed Dating website and sent the following email to my second dating prospect:
     
    To:   lookn4luv
    From:  smrt4ever
     
    Geoff, Judging by our emails over the past month, we sound very compatible. Would you like to meet for coffee tomorrow night? ~ Ellen (aka: smrt4ever)
     
    Less than ten minutes later, I got the following reply:
     
    To:   smrt4ever
    From:  lookn4luv
     
    Hi Ellen! Name the time and place. I’ll set a red rose on the table so you’ll be sure to recognize me. Looking forward to it. — Geoff
    Me too, I’d written back. Wishing it was really true.
    In my mind, what I was really wishing for was a date with Henry.

 
     
     
    CHAPTER FOUR
     
    The next evening, Chester and I walked into All Things Furry just before six. The place was packed, as usual. My eyes scanned the room until they landed on Henry’s. Even though I told myself he was all wrong for me, my tummy did a little dance.
    Henry smiled and gestured to the chair next to him as if it were natural that we’d sit together.
    I joined