"You could go elsewhere, but you won't. And even if you did, you'd be back." Tracey was self-assured and positive about that and just egotistical enough to let him walk out the door and try his luck somewhere else. Especially on a night before a match. Besides, they'd been teasing, right? When had the conversation gained such an edge to it?
"My virtue?" She couldn't think of any wizard in her life that would give her virtue much concern. She was an adult and did as she pleased. "He (the fictitious he) understands that certain quidditch players have poorly organised schedules that don't take into account a witch's personal time." The point she wasn't making was that if Montague had come during business hours, she wouldn't have been able to give him this much attention. Tracey didn't want to examine why she considered making that illogical part of her argument.
Tracey laughed before she could help herself. It was the late hour and her defenses were not as high as they should be. "Trust me, you're getting off easy there. I'm not the least bit attractive when I simper. Not a very useful skill in my line of work." Even if she did have nearly a thousand preconceived ideas about him, Tracey had to appreciate his supposed honesty. "Thank you for the offer, but no thank you." She met his gaze just briefly over the handle of his broom as she applied another layer to the balancing charm. "If you'd come here to fuck, you'd be leaving disappointed. I have one service I provide quidditch players and that is not in my bed. Ever." Her fleeting smile held a hint of apology, as if she felt bad that he'd be denied her more intimate attentions but it was just another way for Tracey not to cower to someone that would just as likely come into her shop and make demands.