Once around the corner, Lucy dropped her drunken act and pulled the shiny pin out of her sleeve. She let out a sigh of relief as she saw that it read “Assistant Manager”. She pinned it to her own lapel and set off in search of the elevators. Once a bank presented itself, she quickly nabbed an empty car and got in. She had remembered a tidbit of trivia that someone had once told her- often, a floor in a hotel closed for prominent members or a private party could be accessed by pressing the top two vertically oriented buttons in the elevator. In this large hotel, they were 19 and 20, and Lucy was pleased to note that her fingers had not been on them for more than a second when the elevator doors closed and the car moved smoothly upwards.

She spent the short ride fixing her hair in the mirrored walls and worrying about her still- conspicuous briefcase. Just before the elevator doors opened, she fixed an aloof look on her face and held the briefcase behind her back.