The middle-aged woman didn’t argue with the customers, but loud clanging noises came from the kitchen. Whitaker Scarlett quickly pieced things together—this woman must be the boss’s wife. The other day, when Scarlett came to sell yellow eels, the boss seemed straightforward and honest. Who would’ve thought his wife would be so irritable, as if she’d overturned a jar of vinegar? Scarlett felt completely wronged, but arguing with the boss’s wife wouldn’t do her any good if she wanted to continue doing business in this area.
What an unlucky day.
Scarlett’s good manners kept her from losing her temper, though her expression shifted several times.
As she was about to leave, pushing her bike, the owner of the eel noodle shop came out, apologizing. “I’m really sorry. You see how unreasonable my wife is… We can’t buy your eels anymore for the shop, but I have a relative who handles procurement at the city council guesthouse. His name is Lawrence Hughes. If you want to give it a try, just tell him that Bruce Hughes sent you.”
Mr. Hughes felt deeply ashamed. His wife had embarrassed Scarlett in front of everyone. If she were the quarrelsome type, she might have made a scene. It was rare for Scarlett to let it go, but that didn’t mean he should take advantage of her good nature.
The city council guesthouse?
Government establishments could be tricky to deal with, but if she managed to secure a deal, it could turn into a long-term business opportunity.
“Thank you so much, Mr. Hughes!” Scarlett expressed her gratitude. Bruce didn’t stay long—his wife was already throwing another tantrum inside the shop.
Scarlett didn’t head straight to the city council guesthouse.
It wasn’t that she doubted Bruce Hughes’ referral, but upon asking around, she discovered that, despite its grand name, the guesthouse wasn’t in the city center but way out in the western suburbs of Harborfield. Who knew what the city’s leaders thought when they built it so far away?
Instead, Scarlett first went to the farmer’s market to sell her goods. She made sure to arrive early, as the market was already bustling.
After paying a management fee, she was assigned a small spot. Scarlett set up her sign, and customers soon gathered to browse. Her striking looks left a strong impression on people, and some of the regulars recognized her. A few even asked about her fiancé. Scarlett responded to these personal questions with nothing more than a polite smile.
“Could you sell the eels a bit cheaper?”
“I’ll take just a pound. Make sure you weigh it properly!”
Business picked up as buyers surrounded Scarlett, talking all at once. Some wanted her to weigh the eels, others paid for eggs, and a few needed change. Handling everything at once was chaotic, and Scarlett couldn’t afford to slow down without confusing herself. She worked nonstop for two hours, her clothes soaked in sweat, before finally getting a breather.
Most customers were buying small amounts for personal use. Bulk buyers were rare. By the end, Scarlett still had over a hundred eggs and about twenty pounds of yellow eels left.
The farmer’s market offered all sorts of oddities, but the best-selling items were either everyday necessities or rare, unique goods, like the yellow eels Scarlett brought from the countryside. If she had brought something like small greens, selling for a few cents per pound, it wouldn’t have been worth her time and wouldn’t have stood out among the competition.
After sticking it out at the market a bit longer, Scarlett still had some eggs and eels left unsold.
Daily retailing like this was risky, and Scarlett was determined to find a buyer who could handle bulk purchases. She thought of Bruce Hughes’ suggestion and decided to visit the city council guesthouse. A procurement officer there might not need much, but they likely knew others in the same business. The 1980s were a time when personal connections mattered a lot. If Scarlett could establish a relationship with Lawrence Hughes, she might open doors to more than just one market.
Scarlett planned to use the sales strategies she had honed in later years to win over Lawrence Hughes.
Gift-giving required careful thought. For male colleagues, cigarettes and alcohol were foolproof choices. The most prestigious alcohol was, of course, Cinzano. But putting aside the cost, these unique liquors were reserved for officials and practically impossible to buy without connections—Scarlett wouldn’t even be able to touch a bottle, no matter how much money she had.
As for cigarettes, Harborfield’s local tobacco factory produced Golden Leaf, Scatterflower, and Butterflies. Golden Leaf was a lower-grade cigarette favored by average smokers, Scatterflower was a premium cigarette for officials and conferences, and Butterflies fell somewhere in between. Although Butterflies was a premium cigarette, its retail price of $0.35 per pack seemed reasonable to Scarlett as a gift for Lawrence Hughes.
However, reality hit her hard. When she tried to buy a carton of Butterflies, the seller looked at her as if she were crazy.
“A carton? No way! Even if you want more than two packs, you’ll need written authorization!”
