A personal shopper had picked out items in advance—a couple of dresses, more jeans, some stylish blouses and tasteful but damn sexy undergarments. All fit perfectly and flattered my complexion and figure. Black left without paying, flipping a casual wave at the attendant. Again, I could only imagine what arrangements he’d already made in advance. Once he’d retrieved his car from the valet, we headed home. “Do you like the clothes? You didn’t say much at the store,” he noted. “I do. They’re beautiful.” “You can leave them at my place and bring more of your things later in the week.” The statement struck me as presumptuous. “Am I moving in?” “Not immediately, but I expect that you’ll be spending lots of time at my place.” “I suppose.” “Yes or no.
