The Late Nineteen Twenties
“And you’re them, too.” Sigyn tried squaring her shoulders, taking a step forward – anything to defy her inner fear. “I’m not jumpy. You’re here for the juice?” She paused, tilting her chin and appraising him with half-lidded eyes. “There’s just one little question to deal with beforehand.” Oh womanly wiles, start a-working…
He leaned back, shoulders thrown back, nodding. “Yeah, there is.” He tilted his head, frowning at her. He almost wondered if she was tipsy herself. He would have to check the amount, he thought, make sure that she hadn’t tapped into the amounts at all herself.
She wasn’t quite sure how to address this evasive answer, having hoped that he’d be eager to get this over and done with and have a drink himself. So, Sigyn took a breath and barreled ahead with her exorbitant price. “Twelve hundred, no less.”
“I’m afraid not, Miss,” he said, flashing a little smile. “You’re going to have to come down more than that because you see, the market for this isn’t what it used to be. That price was all well and fine a month ago, but not now. Now, the price has dropped to the point that you’re just going to have to let it go for five hundred dollars. Seems prohibition is taking effect mighty well and people ain’t buying alcohol like they once were.”