Tom held up his hand. “Miss Franks? May I be excused?”
Miss Franks glanced at him for a second before shrugging. Tom had never given him reason to doubt him before. “Sure, Mister Jones. Take a pass.”
Once in the hall, Tom pulled a paper from his pocket as he stepped into the lavatory and leaned against the door to hurry its closing.
“Well? Did you get it?” Jason asked, standing by the sink.
Tom held up the papers. “Yep.”
Jason took them and smiled. “How’d you manage it, man?”
Tom shrugged. “I’m talented.”
“She talks in her sleep.”