Entitled Saleswomen Refused to Let Me Try on a Wedding Dress, but They Didn’t Know One Important Detail…

John sighed in frustration. “Mr. Shepherd is Ms. Morales’ fiancé, and they’ve recently acquired this store. You’d know that if you were paying attention to anything other than your assumptions.”

A heavy silence fell over the room as the saleswomen realized their mistake. Their arrogance and judgment had quickly turned into fear.

John wasn’t finished. “The way you’ve treated Ms. Morales is unacceptable,” he said sternly. “And it’s not just because she’s the owner. No customer should ever be treated like that.”

Marissa took a deep breath, feeling a sense of justice. She could see the panic in the saleswomen’s eyes, but she wasn’t about to be cruel.

“John,” she said softly, “don’t fire them. Not just yet.”

John raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

Marissa nodded and turned to the blonde. “Instead of firing you, I want you to be my personal assistant for the next month. My fiancé and I have a lot of wedding plans to finalize.”

The blonde’s jaw dropped. “P-personal assistant?” she stuttered.

“That’s right,” Marissa said calmly. “You’ll learn what it means to make every bride feel special, regardless of who they are. It’s not just about selling expensive dresses—it’s about making people feel beautiful. From now on, you’ll treat every customer with respect.”

Then she looked at the brunette. “As for you, Matilda, you’ll be studying wedding gowns. You’ll learn about every fabric, every cut, and every style we offer. By the end of this, you’ll be an expert.”

Both women nodded, too stunned to speak.

“Now,” Marissa said, her smile widening, “let’s start with some champagne, and then I’ll decide which dress I’d like to try on.”

As the two scrambled to prepare her fitting room, Marissa couldn’t help but feel victorious. She had stood her ground and turned an unpleasant situation into a lesson they’d never forget.

John looked at her with a smile. “You handled that perfectly, Ms. Morales.”

Marissa chuckled. “Thank you, John. But there’s still work to be done with those two.”

With a glass of champagne in hand, Marissa settled into the plush fitting room, ready to find the perfect dress—on her own terms.

What would you have done in Marissa’s shoes?

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