“I thought we were negotiating.” “We are.” “Then you can’t just keep saying the same number.” “Says who?” “Says me!” “Lucky for me, you’re not the one with the upper hand here.” I stare at him in outrage with my mouth hanging open. Then a strange thing happens: he smiles. “I just wanted to see what you’d do when I said that.” I’d like to run him over with my car. I say firmly, “Forty-five hundred.” “Ninety-nine-ninety-nine.” “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
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