She raps her hand on the hotel door, hoping he'll think it's Danny or Albert. She guesses right and he opens the door and looks at her in surprise. He's halfway undressing, bare footed and quickly does up the buttons on his shirt but ushers her in, eyes not meeting hers, "Everything alright?"
"No, far from alright," Stacie looks directly at him, willing him to do the same."You've spoken to the top of my head all night and I've no idea what was so interesting about your shoes."
"Well, it's awkward innit?" Ash offers, turning around searching through a pile of wires on the dressing table, pressing a button on the laptop beside them.
"That's why I'm here. I can't bear it, Ash," she pleads, squeezing herself between him and the furniture. He leaps back like a scaled cat but she grabs his arm and stills him, "am I that repulsive to you?"
"Stace!" He's horrified by the question but he finally looks at her face and the guard he's been wearing melts, "bleeding hell, you're gorgeous but the last thing you want is me lusting after you."
"Shame about that," Stacie runs her eyes up and down his body. "Can I lust after you instead?"
"I'm not a bloody joke," he warns her. "I know I'm not skinny like Danny or Mickey. I'm, twenty years older than you..."
"Fifteen actually... and who says that I like skinny men anyway?"
"All women like skinny men." He counters.
"So the hotel receptionist who asked me if you were single, the women on the con last week who admired your eyes and the nightclub owner who asked me to ask you if you'd show her how to fix her heating system - and yes that was an excuse - and me, have no taste in men?" Stacie arches an eyebrow, "and I told her she could get her own plumber in."
Ash knows he's in trouble when he's run out of witty replies.
"So do I get permission to continue to lust after you?" Stacie asks, "I've been doing it for a while but now I know what's underneath this..." She brushes her hands down his shirt, walking her fingers on the buttons he has just done up, "I might get a bit carried away."
He catches her hands, "You know we can't cross that line."
"Bloody Mickey's grifters code," She sighs and then smiles broadly, "But he's not here!"
"You deserve someone better." It's his last defence and it's a flimsy one. She's already knocked down the Mickey will kill them excuse by pointing out he's not here.
"I think I deserve you and it's up to me to decide, don't you?" Stacie stands her ground, her coolness faking the turmoil in side as she plays her last hand, "I'll walk away now if you don't want me. I'll say nothing else about it."
"Stace," he paces the room angrily, "I've fucked you into the middle of next week in the limo if you'd said. Jesus, do you think I'm a robot?"
She's stunned and her face flushes with longing, "fucked me into the middle of next week?"
"Yes," He growls.
"So prove you're not a robot." She demands, grabbing him, knowing this is her only chance.
For all she thought of Ash, she'd never have him down as domineering. She'll remember the litany of descriptives that fall from the lips she wanted to kiss for life. Stored to her memory for nights when he might dare to leave her.