PERCEIVED VALUE
Written by Katherine Tomlinson
Illustrated by Mark Satchwill
Gillis
Montgomery didn’t like his wife working at the North Hollywood pawn shop. It
was the biggest one they owned, but it was a trouble magnet, especially after a
guy got shot trying to pass stolen goods while Orla was there alone.
But Orla
knew jewelry inside and out—“All those years of dress up,” she liked to say—and
people were coming in every day hoping to exchange their valuables for enough
money to pay their electric bill so they could keep the A/C on. Gillis could
value most items with a cursory glance but he was clueless about bling.
Or so he
claimed.
In truth, he
hated dealing with jewelry. The misery was just too intimate when a woman came
in to pawn her engagement ring, or a man brought in his father’s turquoise-inlaid
cufflinks as collateral for a loan. The baubles were rarely worth much and the
shame and despair of the people offering them up was like a wave of body
odor—you couldn’t see it but the smell was so strong it could knock you off
your feet.
Orla was
better at dealing with the emotional stuff than he was.
Or so he
liked to think.
When Martin Prentice
walked through the door, Gillis heard Orla sigh.
