I didn't notice her because I was watching a basketball game on TV, but for some reason I glanced to the side and I caught her staring at me over her ...houlder. She smiled at me and I smiled back, then she returned to whatever she was doing.This continued for a very long time, over a year until last week. We saw each other all the time but never talked to each other. Sometimes I would look at her and see pure desire in her eyes, and I'm sure she could see the same in mine. Last Thursday, I was. She looked me straight in the eye. "Donnie, I see how Mitch looks atyou. That boy is bat-shit-crazy in love with you and wants to marry you.I mean, let's face it, someone who USED TO MAKE seventy thousand dollarswouldn't be able to dress as well as you do without Mitch's support,right? Anyway, my advice to you is - Don't let that boy get away fromyou. He wants to marry you and, trust me, you want the life that he canprovide. Use this week to make sure that he knows that you're ready tosettle. “I’ll get right to the point,” she said. “What will it take for me, for us to keep our house?” “Money,” was his answer. She nodded her head. “I know I know,” she told him as she looked right into his eyes. “But what else will it take uhhh,” and then she looked at the name plate on his desk. “Peter? What else may I do to make uhhh this credit union satisfied?” Boy, she sure looks pretty today he told himself for some unusual reason. “I don’t have that answer, uhhh I’m sorry what is your first. She put on a pair of leggings over her leotard, which was dark pink with sequins, and a black sweater over that. She slipped her feet into her Ugg boots and tied her skates together, slinging them over her shoulder. Before she left the dressing room, she decided to weigh herself on the scale. Dasha was sixteen years old, 54 with medium length wavy blonde hair. She had tan skin and bright blue eyes. A Russian beauty. She set down her gear and stepped up onto the scale. 105lbs. Not bad, but shed.