Elena's hand closed around Liam's arm and she walked him away from the platform at a pace that was professional and unhurried and absolutely not what it looked like.
She moved through the gallery with purpose, nodding once at someone who tried to catch her eye, steering them both through the archway and back into the first room and then past it entirely, toward the far end of the building where the foot traffic thinned out and the corridor narrowed.
The women's bathroom door.
She pushed it open and walked in and pulled him in after her.
Liam looked around at the white tiles, the row of sinks, the mirrors running the full length of the wall. Then he looked at the door they had just come through.
"I don't think I should be in here," he said. "If someone comes in and sees me. Especially with you. That's going to be a whole—"
