Laura was looking over at the food truck that had caught his attention when the card was offered. She had noticed he was doing something with his pocket and looked down as his hand offered her one of his business cards. She accepted it with a small smile. “Our business lunch,” she repeated, glancing at the night sky before meeting his eyes, her smile threatening to grow wider. “Of course, Mr. Blackbird.”
Scanning the benches and tables that were scattered around the area, the kind that were fixed to the ground with special anchors, she said, “We seem to be in luck. Whoever finishes first claims a table?”
Scanning the benches and tables that were scattered around the area, the kind that were fixed to the ground with special anchors, she said, “We seem to be in luck. Whoever finishes first claims a table?”