“I told the mail clerk we lost some envelopes, but nobody’s buying that.”

“We don’t owe anybody an explanation,” Gwen said, her voice cold in the silent square.

“We could just give him a pass to the overflow table by the kitchen,” Tyler said, wiping his hands on his pants again.

“That keeps people from whispering about lost mail.”

“We had to draw the line somewhere for the ballroom headcount,” Gwen said, stopping under the glow of the streetlamp.

“Is that what you’ll tell him if he shows up at the hotel?” Tyler asked.