Unlike Cinnamon, Strawberry did not maintain a completely professional manner in dealing with the poorly behaving shop folk. I had seen it before. She used her physical attractiveness and charming personality to improve her side in negotiations. With these particular guys, she went a little overboard in my opinion.
I spent my time studying the men closely. In my experience, there were different types of guys that stared shamelessly at beautiful women. Those that simply couldn't help it due to a lack of exposure to such beauty, but otherwise were harmless. Those that liked to have a little fun but would shy away if a problem arose. Then came the category that I was most familiar. Prison inmates, rough bar crowd, adrenaline junkie locker room boys. I judged two of these workers to be of that dangerous group.
One of the bad guys circled us slowly. I didn't think that he was attempting to get a tactical advantage. It was more like he was trying to get a better view of Cinnamon's ass. My girl was getting extremely uncomfortable. The other dude looked like he was about to grab Strawberry's backside. He was flexing his fingers with his hand extended.
"Excuse me," I said to the most immediate threat. "What is your job here?"
The guy stared at me blankly without backing up despite my close proximity. The others were certainly taking notice. Strawberry seemed to realize for the first time how close the man’s hand was to her generously proportioned buttocks.
"I'm a loader supervisor," the guy grunted, keeping half his mouth closed as if he was chewing tobacco.
"Perhaps you should get back to it," I told the man with a firm tone. Instantly I saw what I was looking for. That indicator in his eyes to reveal how he would respond.
You couldn't always judge how volatile a man was by his actions. He might back away, even apologize. But then later come at you when you don't expect it. However, the eyes never lied.
This guy was definitely trouble.
The worker behind me was squeezing in anticipating a conflict. I stepped back abruptly to land my heel on the toe of his boot while swinging my knuckles accidently into his crotch. He couldn't step back because of his shoe being pinned. Though not doubling over in pain, his privates were obviously less than comfortable.
"Oh, sorry about that," I said to play it off like a mishap. "Are you okay?"
The first guy aggressively stepped toward me. I placed on hand on his chest to keep him at a manageable distance. At six inches shorter than me I figured my reach gave me an advantage should this confrontation come to blows. When the man grabbed my wrist, his supervisor finally spoke up.
"Stay that!" the man behind the counter told his workers. "We don't want any issues here."
Cinnamon was already halfway to the door, stepping backwards to keep an eye on everyone. Strawberry was more confident, but still putting some distance between herself and the lowlife scum that worked there.
"We'll check out some other offers and get back to you," my red-haired negotiator told them. She wasn't rattled, but concern was noticeable in her expression and tone.
No one followed us as we headed for the door. We were still strapping on our breathers as the arid chemical stench outside hit us. I was able to recover from coughing quicker this time around.
"Can't we just receive offers from inside the ship?" Cinnamon asked.
"These people like to do business face-to-face," Strawberry told her. "If we want good prices, I'll need to be able to do my thing."
"I think your thing almost got us into trouble back there," Cinnamon told her with an edge in her voice.
"Box girl, you don't know what in the galaxy you are talking about," she responded angrily.
"Hold up girls," I said as I stepped between them. "Let's stay united here. Will every company in this entire city be run by hoodlums?"
"What is a hoodlum?" Strawberry asked, not surprisingly. She had a bit of an attitude still remaining from Cinnamon's comment.
"We don't have a lot of experience with planet folk," Cinnamon explained. "But I have to doubt that they are all like that."
We went to the next shop and were happy to find a lone woman behind the counter. She wasn't exactly what you would call a looker either. She was sitting on a high stool to give us a good view of her body rolls. The neck and chin had multiple layers as well. Her hair was formed into a massive orange beehive with strings of beads weaved through. But her smile looked genuine.
"Hello, you beautiful people," the woman greeted us as soon as we unstrapped our breathers. "You must be from the Ma-Day-Hoo."
"The what?" Cinnamon asked with a chuckle as she strolled up to the counter without hesitation.
"Your ship, darling. You three are from the interstellar commerce ship, correct? Oh girl, you smell sweet and spicy. Lean over here for me."
My girl barely moved forward at all, but that didn't keep the beast of a woman from indulging in a whopping good sniff through vibrating nostrils. "Oh, I love my cinnamon," she said lustfully.
"Me too," I quickly replied.
"Oh, I bet you do, you tall drink of what ails me," she responded with an exaggerated wink that more resembled the onset of a stroke. I laughed outright at the gesture as well as the expression. "And this shortcake you got here is just as tasty looking."
"Thank you," Strawberry replied happily. I could clearly see that she was already in negotiator mode. "Yes, we are
