Work had been long. Almost too long. While it wouldn't have been the first time she'd stayed overnight in the office, slept on her couch, and kept an extra suit in the closet, this was the first time she actually had someone to go home to. Lilah hadn't expected this, but having Wes in her life really changed her priorities. She'd even-god help her (which was a laugh riot on it's own)-pictured herself with him, ten years from now. With children.
She had a feeling he would be a good father.
But now was not the time to think about that. Opting to work at home rather than the office, she transferred contracts and papers into her briefcase, then headed down to the parking garage to her car. Ten minutes later, she was home and riding the elevator up to the penthouse.
She stepped out into the short hall, then paused when she saw the door was partially open. A hand was dipped into her purse where she found and drew the gun she always carried with her. Slowly she walked in, gun raised as hazel eyes scanned the living room, when she heard the sound of someone drinking in the kitchen. A moment later, she heard Abel's voice.
Some of the tension eased out of her, and she set her briefcase and purse down, then walked towards the kitchen in time for Abel to turn to face her. "You know they have this brilliant invention called the lock. You should try it sometime." "There's also something called a telephone. Most people use it to inform someone they'll be stopping by. Saves time - and bullets."
She slipped the gun into the back of her skirt casually, then stepped around the blond and into the kitchen, immediately turning so that the woman would still be mostly in her line of sight. All alone tonight, sleeping beauty? Boyfriend not keeping you satisfied?" "Some people have actual work to do." She smirked in reply, though inwardly she was glad Wes wasn't home yet. It saved any awkward questions.
"As I recall, Abel, you have a fully stocked kitchen of your own. Why do you feel the need to come here and raid mine?"