Hesitance, stemming from what? Boredom? Annoyance? She sticks to annoyance, because it benefits her temperament and interest. She cannot hurt the educated, calm man, but she can be a thorn under the fingernail, and in that way be remembered.

"Okay, Mister." She doesn't bother to specify what she should be called; she guesses that she won't have any influence on his decision even if she beats him savagely. And if she beats him savagely, he won't talk to her again. There's no gain.

Oh, wait. Money. His actions, his cool collection. Because he had not come to her as a client, she had not assessed him on the basis of inborn wealth, but now that she thinks of it, he reeks of that calm comfort that comes from money. Nothing she does will matter to him, because he is not money. It's comforting in the dull grey way that makes her think of rot and illness-- broken and useless things that are free in their lack of responsibility. She is trash to him, and that's fine. There's no expectation of performance.

But she can still be a thorn. "I bet you're gonna fit right in here. Nobody's gonna lock up Hunter Percy. Jesus. Why did they give you two last names?"