She can't contain her glee at the suggestion, expression immediately lighting up; after all, he made it, so he can't go back on it. "I'd say that you have a death wish," she replies, smug as she stretches, arms reaching towards the sky and wrists rolling to relax the tension in her hands. "What, you see a young Asian woman in heels and assume she can't drive?"

Leaning in closer to the bookie, Faye traces her fingers over the counter. "Make sure no one touches that money; I'll be back for it," she says with a smirk, then gesturing for the man to follow her, a keyring now spinning around the base of her index finger. "When you're at the horse races, how else do you secure yourself a good parking space?"