“Hi,” Rebecca said, sliding onto the bench of the picnic table where Nico was sitting, a fat manila folder in his hands.
“Hey,” he returned, beaming at her with that smile that always turned her insides to jelly. “Thanks for meeting me.”
“Likewise,” she said, removing a notepad and pen from her bag and laying them on the table in front of her. She glanced around the secluded area in Santa Clara Central Park appreciatively. Despite the fact that it was a beautiful Saturday, it was still early enough that they had relative privacy. “What made you pick this place?”
He shrugged. “I thought about my office again, but then I figured that neutral territory was a better idea. I used to come here and take walks to clear my head when I was in college.”
“It’s beautiful.” Her gaze wandered from the fountain in the middle of the nearby pond to the thick folder sitting front of him. “Is that what I think it is?”