“I like it.”

I reached into my pocket for the key.

It was heavy and warm from my own body, and it sat in my palm like a coin from another country.

“If you lock it,” Ryan said, “how do you get back in at eight?”

“Thomas has the passkey.

He’ll be standing right there.”

“And if he isn’t?”

I didn’t answer that, because the elevator chimed at the far end of the hall and Ryan’s hands closed hard around the bag handles.