“Any friend of Jed's...” Sullen little scrap of a thing gets treated to a radiant smile – not quite as bright as the one Jed himself gets, but personable enough – and then she's ostensibly keeping herself busy while the boys talk. It's an odd thing for her to be ignored (and again, like most things about Jed, reminds her of other people and other times) but if Jed's using that time to give Redford the 'don't do anything stupid' talk then it's welcome: lad sticks out like a sore thumb, and jittery people are loose cannons in her experience.
'course she's not really keeping busy, although she does ring down to stores and ask them to send up the Diamondback – in the blue finish, if they have it – and the Smith and Wesson K2 Masterpiece, because even if she's 99% sure the Diamondback will do the job giving the kid the impression of some sort of choice rather than forcing a gun on him is probably a smart move. And oh, what the hell, the Ruger Security 6 as well. Might as well make an occasion of this. A first gun's a big thing. She's still got both of hers – the Peacemaker that used to her daddy's and the '36 she picked out just because the loading mechanism was revolutionary enough to make her giddy, both of them on display in the case behind the desk and usually written off as family heirlooms – and while people don't get half as attached these days it's still an important moment.
But yes, she's not really politely ignoring the exchange, because scrutinizing people was always something she did well and there's a lot to read there. She's got to question the wisdom of buying someone Jed's sweet on a gun – given the way most of his relationships go, it'll end up being trained on him before things are through – but not her... yeah, you get the drill. The intercom buzzes to say the guns are here, but she keeps the guy waiting outside the door, waits for Jed and Redford to be back at the desk before summoning him in, part of the back wall swinging open to reveal a dimly lit secret passage leading down to what might have been a Panic Room once but is now Warehouse 1. The little boxes look ridiculous in the gorilla's hands (having people around who look like they can fuck shit up is practically compulsory) and awkwardly large in hers as she takes them, one by one, and sets them down in front of Redford's seat, dismissing the big guy quickly with a nod and a mouthed 'thanks' because she gets the feeling the less people there are around the less likely things are to go south – Redford doesn't strike her as the social type – and it's really not as if she needs the extra muscle. Snipers do the job better.
Leaving the boxes there for Redford to explore in his own time, she turns back to Jed and resumes the debate. “This'd be the 'lady's gun', right?” The weight she places on the term suggests that she thinks the idea of a 'lady's gun' is mildly ridiculous.