Nash
“Hey, what’s your hurry?” The cashier chided me flirtatiously as she counted out my change. I grabbed the cash off the counter and spared a glance at the woman behind the counter. She was passably attractive, but nothing that interested me. I only had eyes for one woman.
“I got someplace to be,” I said shortly. As I turned, I scanned a display of brochures, advertising local attractions and events. I spotted a glossy photo of a French castle, and snagged it out. “Hey, do you know this place?”
The cashier squinted at the brochure. “Oh yeah, I know that place. The Château Royal. It’s just north of the city. They do a couple of events each year, you know, a masquerade in October, a Christmas ball. But it’s closed to the public most of the time. It’s owned by an old, rich Fre
