“You’re perfect,” I tell her. Snorting, she laughs. “I’m far from perfect, but if you mean I’m appropriately dressed, then I’ll take it.” As I turn into the private valet parking entrance, Frankie sets a hand on my thigh again, her voice softer. “But while we’re on the subject, you look pretty perfect yourself, Zenzero.” I glance down. I’m only wearing charcoal gray slacks and a white dress shirt, sleeves cuffed, no tie. “You dressed me.” “I did. I have excellent taste. And my muse is very handsome. Inspiration wasn’t hard to come by.” I smile as I turn off the engine. “Thank you, honey
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