The guide stopped where the hallway split in two. On one side, frosted glass doors with a small brass sign: "Guest Lounge." On the other, a narrower hallway with no decoration at all, like the building had just given up pretending once you got far enough back.
"We split up here," he said, that same forced smile still stuck on his face. "Sir, you'll wait in the lounge. Your hostess will be along shortly. Miss, come with me, we'll get you set up in the back."
Nash just nodded, still playing the part of the slightly impressed guy. But right before Saya turned to follow her guide, his eyes met hers for half a second. He didn't say anything. Didn't need to. It was one of those moments where he was trying, for whatever reason, to send a telepathic message to his companion for the evening — although since it was Saya, it was more like a "you're gonna do exactly what I told you and get the hell out of here, okay?"
