❝ ISN'T IT TRAGIC? ❞
In which Gemma Moretti, a hard-working bounty hunter, clashes with Los Angeles' most hot-blooded defense attorney.
[LUCIFER PRE-SEASON 1]
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DEEP BREATHS. That was what Gemma was telling herself as she pulled over at the curb of the right house, the street full of cars and the yard crowded with people with red cups in their hands. The music coming from inside the house was muffled but still filled the neighborhood with noise, along with the cheers and chatter of the guests gathered. She had learned from Charlotte that Blake Harlan was already past 25, so she was a little surprised that he was still throwing ragers like these, and it certainly made her feel a little overdressed. Overcome with insecurity, she tugged on her dress to pull it lower on her thighs while walking away from her car, but her train of thought got completely derailed when she spotted Charlotte by the crooked mailbox.
With the air knocked out of her, Gemma swallowed and made her way over to Charlotte who had switched from a sensible, office-appropriate dress into something a little more flirtatious, giving the Moretti a full view of her defined collarbones and long legs. It was enough to make her knees weak, but she held herself upright as she approached the woman, breaking into a weak smile once she saw the smirk on Charlotte's own lips.
"Well, I was right. You do look lovely, Miss Moretti", she complimented Gemma as soon as she was by her side, and with her cheeks reddening, she glanced down at her dress before gesturing at Charlotte in return.
"So do you, Richards. But I never expected you to drop the ball, really", she remarked, her words going straight to Charlotte's ego. Never did Gemma think she'd be the one boosting it, but the praise flowed off of her tongue effortlessly now, enthralled by the stunning woman who certainly knew she looked good.
"Why, thank you. Shall we?" Charlotte nodded towards the house, and agreeing with the idea, Gemma stepped past her and headed inside. Charlotte was hot on her heel, and Gemma could feel her gaze on her as she weaved through the people and into the house where music was blaring at full volume, making it hard to hear anything but the pounding beat. There was a drunken haze in the air, something she was grateful for, as she assumed it would mean no one would question them being there. She suspected the party had already gotten out of hand, or then Blake Harlan was an awfully popular guy with a hundred friends.
Trying to shake off the giddiness, Gemma put on her game face and meticulously scoured the crowd, trying to spot Rhys among the guests. His file had mentioned him being over 6 foot tall, so she liked to think it would be an easy task to spot the man, but at first glance, he was nowhere to be seen. She reminded herself that it wasn't a given he'd show up – in fact, he would be a bit of a fool to make an appearance while on the run from the authorities, but if there was one thing Gemma had learned during her short time as a bounty hunter, it was that people often underestimated her reach and fell victim to the temptation of social settings.
