“Well, I don’t have any definite plans…”

Sebastian took a deep drag from his cigarette. “Would you like to come visit la musée d’Orsay with me? We still have an hour before it closes, and I know of a great bistro around the corner where we could go afterwards.”

“Sure, so long as I’m back at my hotel at a decent time. I’m still getting used to the time change and I didn’t sleep too well on the plane.”

“I’ll have you tucked in before midnight, just like Cendrillon.”

“Cendri – Oh, you mean Cinderella!”

He chuckled. “The very same. My mother used to read me those awful stories when I was small. It ruined me for life – now I’m a hopeless romantic. Well, it looks like we’re here.”

He helped me off the boat and we walked the few blocks to the museum. He proved to be very knowledgeable about art, pointing out his favorite artists and the way they used shadow and light in their work.

“You must come here a lot.”

“You’re right. I work here.”

“You work here?”

“I am a curator.”