Gwen was a tiny bit nervous. It wasn't like she made a habit of going to meet strangers but this guy seemed legit and she didn't think he was going to lock her in a basement or something out of a bad Netflix horror movie.
She'd always had a weird sort of innate sense of danger around her and she didn't get that vibe from him. She couldn't exactly explain it. It was sort of like a little jolt of adrenaline that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up and proverbial flashing light signs that said 'TURN AROUND DO NOT PASS GO OR YOU'LL BECOME A STATISTIC' popped up around her. Came in handy living on her own in New York City, but didn't really apply here.
"Yeah, sure," she said, and moved to sit down. Gwen reached into the pocket of her shoulder bag and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "That's not my handwriting, so whatever it is, I didn't come up with it," she said. She placed it on the counter and turned it so he could see it. "Lots of letters and numbers."