Tracey smirked back, only slightly. "Don't I?" Know what he was used to. Of course she did. "You are all the same, quidditch blokes. You want what you want when you want it. I've only met maybe two that have surprised me, and I can assure you, you're not going to make that list." She really didn't suppose he would care either way.
"Likely you're right." Tracey shrugged and lowered the broom enough to get back on her own two feet. "There is nothing wrong with this one." It was her turn to counter him and not very profitable to discourage the customer out of buying a new broom. "What I'm saying is you don't need to fix the wobble. In time you'll notice it, or I can fix it now. A few other minor adjustments, the tail, some polish..." Tracey jotted the figure on her parchment and pushed it toward Montague to settle the business end of things.
Already assuming what he would wish to do, she put the broom on the grips and started stripping off the balance charms, noting what order they were applied only giving half her attention to his question. "Not making them," she clarified. She didn't make brooms from scratch. Tracey merely took a base broom of fine quality and charmed it up a bit. Or a lot, as needed. Normally she wouldn't disclose the order of one patron to another but Flints and Montagues were family and she'd been given no orders to keep the project secret. (Not an impractical request in these times.)
Pointing to the two brooms on the table behind him, they were encased in an ethereal haze of green and gold flecks, moving back and forth around the brooms in an orderly fashion. "The base is actually a Silver Arrow. Not antique, but a prototype of one of the newer models. The spellwork should be completed tomorrow."