After she slipped inside, he followed, letting the door close casually behind him as he accepted the bags. Holding them firmly in his right hand, he started slowly across the lobby. His default pace was "turtle having a stroke," so there was no risk of him losing her as he went.
At her greeting, he tried to recall her name. It was familiar, at least. He vaguely remembered talking to a girl named Sherri about...nothing really important. That was better than nothing. "Yeah, I think we did talk on this building's, uh, internet." At 42, Brian was mildly confused by this new age internet lingo. "My name's Brian. I moved in a week ago." And what a week it had been. "You were really welcoming. Thank you." He smiled, nodding.