30 I don’t know what kind of car I had envisioned Sam would drive, but the convertible, black Porsche 911 Carrera is not what I had expected. The car suited him, though. It was sleek, sporty, and a little dangerous, much like its owner. He backed the car slowly out of the garage, and then he guided it masterfully down the narrow lane from his house. I was still wearing his black sweats, and I intended to keep them for a while. He had neatly folded my clothes when they came out of the dryer, and they were in a bag in the tiny space at the back of the car. I looked out the window at the sun peeking up over the horizon. It was still early, and there weren’t many cars moving yet. I would have plenty of time to shower and fix myself into something presentable before work. He drove the car f

