By mid-afternoon, Galathea Brooks had learned three things.
People always tried to negotiate lower than they intended to pay.
Cash changed tone faster than conversation ever could.
And most importantly-- anything could be reduced to value if it stayed long enough in the wrong hands.
She stood beneath the shade of a narrow awning, arms folded loosely as a woman in front of her inspected a pair of heels with unnecessary scrutiny.
"They're worn," the woman said, turning the shoe slightly as if that would reveal something new.
"They've been used," Galathea corrected evenly. "There's a difference."
The woman glanced up, faintly irritated, then smirked as if she had been expecting resistance. "I can get something similar cheaper."
"Then you should." Galathea shrugged.
A brief pause. The woman studied her for a moment longer before exhaling sharply, digging into her bag. "Fine."
Hands exchanged cash.
No further discussion.
