Wednesday evenings weren't overly profitable for Quality Quidditch Supplies but Tracey stayed open for the stragglers and she remembered Marcus said he would be by. She'd finished his brooms at the first of the week and was proud enough to wish she'd kept them for herself but it was hardly practical, or profitable, at the moment.
Coming from the back with an armful of new merchandise, she felt her heart race at seeing someone in the store, and just as quickly, it settled when she realised who it was. "Hullo." Her smile was not overly bright, nor too businesslike either. Warm wouldn't have been the right definition either, but that was probably the closest she could come to. If there was any player, or former player, Tracey was going to be a little star-struck over, it would be Marcus Flint. "You came at a good time." Tilting her head, she took note of the gloves. "Do you like those? They're new. The fingerpads are self-healing. They'll last virtually forever."