Page 82 of The New Couple in 5B

I feel a squeeze of desperation. “Are you sure?”

He must hear the despair in my voice, seems to soften. Xavier gives an uneasy glance up at the camera, puts a finger to his lips, then leans in.

“Maybe we can talk about it over coffee.”

“I’d like that,” I say. We exchange numbers.

“I heard you had a run-in with him,” he says, still whispering.

I nod, give him the abridged version of what happened.

The elevator comes and he blocks the door from closing with his foot. “I’ll just say this. Don’t trust him. And don’t tell him anything you don’t want the whole building to know.”

Oh, I think, so this is about gossip.

“Gossip can be toxic,” he says, as if reading my thoughts.

“You’re right.”

“I was sorry to hear about Ivan’s daughter. You found her body? You must be reeling.”

“It was awful. We’re still in shock, I think. Did you know her?”

Something passes across his face, but it’s gone before I can name it. “No,” he says. “We never met.”

“She was a great talent.” It’s the only nice thing I can think to say.

He seems to want to say more but bows his head instead. “Let’s get that coffee soon, maybe tomorrow? Free around two?”

He has more to say but doesn’t want to say it in front of the camera. That’s strange, unsettling.

“I’d like that. It’s a date.”

“Good night, lovely Rosie,” he says sweetly. And then he’s gone.

There isn’t much time to puzzle over the conversation; it’s getting late, and I have to get downtown for Chad’s final performance in his play. Inside, I hustle into a tight black dress and heels, grab my coat and head out the rear door again to the service elevator.

As I step back into the gray hallway, I swear I hear Charles and Ella’s door open and close. But there’s no one there when I peek my head around the corner.

Downstairs, the lobby is empty. Moving quickly, I slip behind the doorman station and knock on the door to the office. No answer. The door is heavy, and the brushed nickel scroll handle is locked tight.

I take out the ring of keys I got when we inherited the apartment and try using the first one, which opened the storage cage, but it’s far too small.

I don’t even know what I’m looking for—proof that Abi lied? Some insight into how the surveillance, the intercom, works? Abi said that the surveillance equipment doesn’t record. But what if it does? Is there footage stored of Abi carrying the box down? For those reasons, and for something else I can’t name, I just really want to get into that room.

I’m about to try the other key.

“Rosie?”

I spin to see Charles standing behind me. He’s changed from his crisp cream suit into a black turtleneck and jeans. I see the shadow of the younger man he must have been, virile, handsome.

“Oh,” I say, trying to cover with a smile. “I was just—looking for a package I thought was left.”

Charles frowns. “George would have brought it to you, no?”

I clear my throat, step away from the door. “I received a notification that it was delivered, but I didn’t get it. So I just wondered if it was down here.”

“I’m sure Abi can look around for you in the morning. George is—not always reliable. Not like Abi.”

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