A pale blue convertible from the sixties parked on the King's Road will stop Molly in the middle of a sentence. She knows the model, the year and roughly what it would cost to restore, and she will tell you all of it with the delight of someone who has never once been bored by an engine.
She is twenty-four and 164 cm, curvy, her dark brown hair falling long in loose waves, her brown eyes going wide whenever she is enjoying herself, which is most of the time. Molly lives in Soho and brings a little of its late-night confidence west with her: warm, playful and sure of herself without any need to prove it.
Her Chelsea evening starts at Bluebird on the King's Road, the art deco building that began life in the 1920s as a motor garage named after a famous record-breaking car and now serves cocktails beneath a high glass roof. It suits her perfectly. Molly orders something stirred, admires the architecture with a mechanic's eye and suggests a second venue where the music is good. House music is her soundtrack, though she is just as happy in a quieter bar if the conversation beats the playlist.
Guests like her because she is easy to be around. She asks good questions, answers honestly and treats a hotel lobby as a place where something fun might happen at any moment. She speaks English with a quick laugh close behind most sentences, and first meetings with her tend to feel like second ones.
Molly is booked most often for Chelsea and the hotels near the King's Road. The booking page explains everything, and one message starts the evening.