Chapter 3

Sharon's office was at the end of the hallway.

She was a woman in her forties with heavy makeup, reeking of cheap perfume and shrewd calculation.

After I explained why I was there, she took a slow sip of her tea.

Then, she leisurely pulled out a contract from her drawer, one I'd never seen before.

"Sophia, calm down. But, you see, according to our store policy, if a client voluntarily cancels their membership, the refund must be calculated based on the highest-tier single session prices."

"You've visited us 15 times. At fifteen hundred dollars per session, that's twenty-two thousand five hundred dollars. Plus, there's a two thousand dollar fee for imported oils, a thousand for utilities, a thousand for equipment wear, and a thousand for service fees."

"All told, not only do you not get a refund, but you actually owe us three thousand dollars more."

I was so angry I laughed, then slammed that flimsy contract onto the table.

"Sharon, are you serious? Is this a robbery? I never saw this contract when I bought the card!"

Sharon's face subtly changed, and her eyes hardened.

"Sophia, it's all in writing, our store policy. Go ahead and ask around, all the high-end places do this."

"Fine, then I'm not canceling. I want a different technician." I said coldly.

According to their store's rules, if a customer demanded a different technician, Kyle's commissions and bonuses for the month would be out the window, and he'd even get docked pay.

Sharon's face instantly turned ugly.

"All our other technicians are fully booked, their schedules are packed."

"Kyle has always been our most outstanding head technician; no customer has ever complained about him. It must be a communication problem on your end!"

"How about this, I'll go talk to him for you later and ask him to continue doing your treatments. And you, well, you should try to control your temper and not always act so high and mighty."

My brain felt like it was about to explode from anger.

So, it's all my fault now?

I took a deep breath, suppressing the urge to smash up the office.

Finally, I said nothing, just pulled out my phone, snapped a picture of that ridiculous contract, and turned to leave.

Behind me, Sharon snorted disdainfully, "Who does she think she is, trying to act like a big shot when she's broke?"