"Give it back!" She snatched the paper from Antony's hand and jolted to the corner before she could somehow accidentally touch him.
He raised a brow, totally unbothered by her overreaction. "You wrote that?"
"I did!" she scowled, flicking her head away. "Just — please, don't say anything!" She was so not in the mood for whatever mean comment he had lined up next.
"It's not bad," he said evenly.
Her mouth fell open in disbelief. She flicked her gaze back at him. "What are you doing here this late?"
"Work," he muttered. Through the elevator reflection, she could see his gaze fixed on some distant spot in this small box rather than on her.
"Work?" she shot him a skeptical look. "You sure you're not in the wrong building?" she asked. "This is the Production building, not the Performance building."
"I'm aware of that," he said curtly, with no further explanation.
