Montague could try to convince her all he wished, but she wasn't going to buy it. He was a handsome, pureblood Quidditch star. How many more factors did he need to lead him toward arrogance and self-importance? Was she bitter? Yes. Burnt by the same type when he flopped from Tracey's bed to the next witch's? Yes, again. They were not to be trusted. "Whatever you say," she answered with a roll of her eyes and a hint of a smirk that told differently.
A soft laugh escaped at his question. Whether he'd meant to or not, he amused her and that was a surprise. "Yes. That second line there?" She nodded toward the parchment with her figures neatly scrawled in a line. "Actually I'm charging you double my pain in the arse rate." But it was too late, he'd already signed and Tracey managed an almost 'isn't that a shame' smile. Was she flirting with him? Good God, no.
Tracey watched Isaac smile his appreciation at the brooms she was working on, pride swelling inside her. "Thank you. I've worked hard on them. It was a brilliant opportunity to create something I know is going to be put to the test." She wondered who the other broom of the pair was for, but Montague had just given her a clue. "You and your brother in law are close?"