"Just don't hide next time," she said again. "It's no fun that way."
Then, as the doors began to shut again, she poured into the elevator cab, the hem of her dress almost, but not quite, getting caught in the doors.
Alone again and undistracted the idea came back. Biting her lip as she grinned and leaned against the button panel she sought out the number 12 and gave it a harty push.
Though it had taken ages to get down the lobby, it seemed to take the elevator no time at all to open up on the 12th floor and within moments she was letting herself into Tom's apartment and slinking - as quiet as a drunken church mouse - into his bedroom.
Her pumps hit the floor with gentle, muffled thuds and the chains on her dress clinked and tinkled together as it pooled on the floor. She may have giggled again, but the Thomas shaped lump in the bed didn't wake up and tell her to get lost so she took that as an invitation and slipped into the bed, sliding happily up to his warmth.