When Hera arrived in New York, she found herself at a slight loss. Her hasty departure from New Mexico meant that she hadn't paved the way for her arrival, and there was nobody to greet her, nor did she have a lot of money on her to buy her way into somewhere worthy of her station. Her money was all tied into the retreat. She had a few million invested in it- not Hermes money, but not insignificant- but her spending account would be depleted if she was imprudent.
Dragging her suitcase behind her, she made her way to a taxi cab rank, picking one where the driver was leaning against the side of his vehicle and could spring to it and help her put her bags in the trunk. He was a cheerful-looking Latino man, and his cab smelled pleasantly of incense when she slid into the back.
"Where to?" he asked, and Hera looked at him, sizing him up.
"I'm going to visit a friend," she said, "but I need a gift to bring her. Where did you purchase this scent?"
He got it, she could see that, as he smiled and nodded. "I'll take you there," he said, and pulled out into traffic with alacrity. He talked as fast as he drove, and Hera had to both make sure her seatbelt was secure, and pay attention (to most of it. He talked fast.) "Here we are, ma'am," he said at last, nodding to the botánica he'd brought her to. "I'll shut off the meter, eh? I'll wait."
Hera smiled, pleased. This man anticipated a generous tip, she could see that, and he would get it too. The botánica was crowded and colourful, and Hera walked slowly, running her eyes over the shelves, absently winding the end of the long silk scarf she was wearing around her hand. There was a girl at the counter, and she decided to politely ignore the way she was slouched over, and picked up a candle which had small pieces of rose quartz and rose petals melted into the wax. "How much is this?" she asked, her voice loud enough to be clearly heard, but not shouting for attention. Hera did not shout for attention, she commanded it.