She pulls her lower lip through her teeth as she considers that, decides that if anyone did walk in they're just as likely to walk out...or to watch, like he said. It's not like there are cops around. Well--one. But she doubts Ortega would care enough to do anything about it.

"Oh," she reaches into her shirt and pulls a small bag of weed from her bra. "For you. For a cigarette." Which gives him the option of smoking it on his own, too.