#cmortimer

"You've been staying out of trouble? Haven't had to sew anything up or patch you up in a bit." Asa can't help a soft tease as he sees a familiar face in the same little coffeeshop. A little grin and a nod at the chair across from him, in case the hitman wants to sit with him for a bit. Asa has a sketchbook set up with some markers and pens, his iced coffee and a half-eaten croissant. And, for once, he seems to be in pretty good spirits.

⏤ There are clients, clients, and clients… The ones that she hated but the tips were so good and all she had to do was stroke their little ego, there were the ones sweet and always ended up having a good time, and they're the ones she felt like being their therapist, listening to the venting about things in life, sometimes those also give nice tips… And Callum. Let's just say she was intrigued since the first time she saw him. There's something about him she finds him very attractive, charming, mesmerizing… Also, he annoys her a little at times. Elizabeth still hopes that little crush goes away, but she never explicitly shows any sign she finds him cute.

She knew he liked her services, otherwise wouldn't come back and ask for her every time. ⏤ Elizabeth had just finished with one client, and the other guy was really wasted and tried to grab her by the wrist. ❛ Please don't! ❜ She informed him with the most sympathetic smile she could ever pull and whoever sees outside might think, she said a compliment or else. That's when she spotted Callum. ❛ Sorry boys, I was already booked. ❜ She says for this group of men and strode towards Callum. ❛ Hi ya mate. Let's go to our usual private room? ❜ A Cheshire cat smile crept on her delicate features, as her index finger kept toying the collar of his shirt.

The hotel boasts a restaurant, spa, and a bar all with doors off the main lobby - so it comes as no shock when people come in and out all day. Often they don’t even stop at the front desk where Ashwin’s concierge sits behind their computers. 

It’s a later evening, and it’s been dead - and the manager is tired from a room fiasco. He sinks into a seat at the bar, loosening a tie, slipping the jacket from his shoulders, and loosening the bun of his long hair to let it free. He glances at the person beside him- the only other person at the bar, in fact. He gestures to the bartender, says: “His uh… next one is… o-on me.” 

The manager speaks a bit slower than some, as if he has to take longer to form his mouth around the words. From a long-standing tongue injury. 

He looks familiar, which means he's probably been at an event or two. Mars has been around long enough to recognize those who appear at certain soirees... especially those who happen to be gang-affiliated. But Mars has no fight in him at the moment - he's looking to drink with good looking company. And hey, if he can slip out some information, all the better. If not... at least he had someone to talk to.

So he sets himself beside Callum - sinks into a stool beside him, with a small nod. "What're you drinkin', and can I buy you another, babes?"