The Grand fits its name with a gorgeous fountain in the front and ornate carving along the front that’s been lovingly repaired with plaster. Old trees surround the property like an embrace. A thick red carpet covers the cobblestone close to the entrance.
“See?” I tell Sutton, who looks ridiculously handsome in a suit. “This is how you treat a place with history. You don’t blow it up into a million pieces.”
“We aren’t going to blow up the library,” he says, that rough voice underlaid with amusement. “And besides, I don’t think this is the example we should follow. The Grand used to be a strip club.”
Through an arched doorway I can see gilded wood box seats and a wide stage. “And you know this by rumor only, I’m sure. It’s not that you would have gone to a strip club yourself.”
He laughs
