having their Saturday rearranged?”
“Marcus wrote that turning thirty should come with one permitted scheduling offense.”
I nodded. Marcus had been our friend long enough to recognize an occasion when asking fewer questions might help. Still, I pictured the brewery reservation, the ridiculous gold banner I had agreed to collect, the easy protection of a room filled with people who already knew who we were to each other. Elise had removed all of it.
She slid the list toward me.
“I arranged breakfast. You choose how we get to the
