Going to meet Lilah Morgan in her own office no less was something Fred never thought she'd ever find herself doing. After the 'talk' with her earlier, Fred didn't mention it to anyone else. They'd probably try to talk her out of it anyway. Either that or try to tag along
( ... )
Lilah leans back in her very ergonomic swivel chair -- once you're already dead, there's pretty much nothing they can do for a faulty disc -- and raises an eyebrow at Fred.
"Why in the world would I think that? You're clearly a smart girl. And, more important, you're curious."
She doesn't offer Fred a seat, curious about whether she'll take the initiative herself. Instead, she studies the other woman coolly. No glasses. Hair pulled behind her ears. A nice figure if you liked the Audrey Hepburn/refugee look. Not a beautiful woman, but a very pretty girl. Pretty. Nobody had ever called Lilah "pretty." Gorgeous, handsome, striking, sexy, yes. But nobody called her pretty, except, perhaps, on occasion, her father. And he hadn't exactly been a reliable witness -- on that count or on many others.
Shrugging, Fred places her hands on her hips and steps into Lilah's office. "No reason really. Just kinda curious." She stood there for a moment just looking back at Lilah. There was something about the way she was looking at her that Fred wasn't quite sure about. She waited just a moment to see if she'd be asked to take a seat, but when it wasn't immediately asked she shut the door behind her and took a seat in one of the chairs in front of Lilah's desk.
"Yes, I am curious. Why you'd want to meet with me of all people, but mainly because you mentioned my family." Leaning back in the chair, Fred tucked a piece of stray hair behind her ear and raised a brow at Lilah. This wasn't the typical way she acted in a meeting with someone, but this wasn't just someone.
"I think we can skip whatever small talk is supposed to happen in any normal situation. Why don't you tell me why you asked me here and what it has to do with my family."
The girl was playing it tough. No nonsense. Or maybe she wasn't playing. Lilah realized that many of her assumptions about Fred Burkle were just that. Assumptions. And a lot of them had involved assuming that Fred was the opposite of herself, because that was what Wesley wanted her to be.
But the way a man viewed a woman that he (for whatever reason) cared about -- well, that didn't necessarily have anything to do with what that woman really was. Lilah had every reason to know that. She certainly should have learned it from her own parents.
Whatever the reason, Fred wasn't up for nonsense. Lilah approved and reached in the drawer for a bottle of Scotch and two glasses. Without asking, she poured a shot for herself and one for Fred. This wasn't a nicety, this was business. She held the glass out. "Please. I insist."
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"Why in the world would I think that? You're clearly a smart girl. And, more important, you're curious."
She doesn't offer Fred a seat, curious about whether she'll take the initiative herself. Instead, she studies the other woman coolly. No glasses. Hair pulled behind her ears. A nice figure if you liked the Audrey Hepburn/refugee look. Not a beautiful woman, but a very pretty girl. Pretty. Nobody had ever called Lilah "pretty." Gorgeous, handsome, striking, sexy, yes. But nobody called her pretty, except, perhaps, on occasion, her father. And he hadn't exactly been a reliable witness -- on that count or on many others.
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"Yes, I am curious. Why you'd want to meet with me of all people, but mainly because you mentioned my family." Leaning back in the chair, Fred tucked a piece of stray hair behind her ear and raised a brow at Lilah. This wasn't the typical way she acted in a meeting with someone, but this wasn't just someone.
"I think we can skip whatever small talk is supposed to happen in any normal situation. Why don't you tell me why you asked me here and what it has to do with my family."
Reply
But the way a man viewed a woman that he (for whatever reason) cared about -- well, that didn't necessarily have anything to do with what that woman really was. Lilah had every reason to know that. She certainly should have learned it from her own parents.
Whatever the reason, Fred wasn't up for nonsense. Lilah approved and reached in the drawer for a bottle of Scotch and two glasses. Without asking, she poured a shot for herself and one for Fred. This wasn't a nicety, this was business. She held the glass out. "Please. I insist."
Reply
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