Exchanges Only

Exchanges Only

- One-shot -

I am an amazing saleswoman, and the awards on my shelf are proof of that. I realized I was meant to dabble in products and services from the time I was 5 - when I bartered my brother's beloved Power Ranger action figures to my tomboy cousin in exchange for the Barbie dolls she loathed.

Since then, things have only gone upward.

Of course, as with all success stories, I have encountered difficulties and roadblocks. Not to mention, I've come across things - and people - that made me hate the life I had chosen for myself.

Clark Roberts was the bane of my existence. A particularly handsome bane, but a bane nevertheless.

A bane who was currently shouting out my name in the middle of the mall's food court.

"What do you want, Roberts?" I snapped when I felt him at my side.

"A refund."

That made me stop and turn to him, eyebrow raised. "A what?"

"A refund," he repeated patiently.

I glowered at him. "You haven't bought anything from me," I pointed out. "And the things you did buy, you returned for refund ages back. Each and every one." It was a sore spot for me.

Clark smirked, and it brought out the dimples in his face. I wished I could tease him about them, but they somehow only made him look more handsome. "You sure?"

"Positive."

"Hmm." He stuffed his hands in his jeans' pockets and leaned back to look over me. "Sure, I've made your career as a saleswoman hell...but there is one thing I hadn't even considered returning until now."

At least he admitted he had been trying to mess with me. It started when I was 9 - when he was 11 - and I had set up my first official sales-stand. Naturally, I sold lemonade.

Clark had shown up near the end of the day, bought a drink, spat it out, and told me even his dog wouldn't like it. Of course, that was very insulting because his dog ate just about everything - it chewed up the most random things in the neighbourhood.

Not being one to turn down a challenge, I had offered a refund if he could support his claim. He accepted, and poured some juice in his dog's mouth.

The dog had run away whimpering, and my ego was crushed. (Briefly.)

That was when my hate-affair with Clark began.

After that day, he made a point to purchase any product or service I was selling, just so he could return it a few days later and smirk at my 'failure'.

Bane of my existence indeed.

"I've changed my refund policy," I told him as I reminisced our history.

"To?"

"To no refunds." This time it was my turn to smirk.

His eyebrow went up. "Oh really? What if somebody is dissatisfied?"

"You mean if you are dissatisfied," I pointing out grumpily before I answered his original question. "No refunds, exchange only."

Clark seemed to be considering this, because he was silent for a few seconds. And then he nodded, "Fine, we'll play that way."

"You don't have anything to return!" I told him again, rolling my eyes.

"I do," he said. "If I'm right, will you refund it?"