sounded hollow.
“Yeah. So I thought I was all set except that after I entered the amount, I was off for the month by thirty-eight dollars.” I watched the steady frown grow on her lips, and I wished I hadn’t brought any of this up.
“It’s no big deal, really. Your cash deposits are just off by thirty-eight dollars for the month. That’s all.” I tried to sound lighthearted, but knew that my attempts were failing. Annie was upset. Her facial expression and body language were screaming volumes.
“Annie. It’s only thirty-eight dollars. No big deal.”
She was ignoring me, the anger on her face something I don’t think I had ever seen before.
When she finally spoke, her voice was tight and even. “It’s a lot more than that, I’m afraid.”
I watched her for several moments, not believing that she could be getting so upset over such a small amount of money. Finally she nodded toward the cash register, and I followed her gaze.
It had been there for a very long time. A white copy of a sales receipt that had been taped to the side of the cash register. I’d glanced at it many times but had never known its significance or why it was there. Receipt number twenty-three fourteen. Now I reached out and carefully pulled it down as I studied the writing.
RC Plat F.D.— $2100.00.
“Twenty-one hundred dollars?” My voice was high. What in the hell did all this mean?
“Exactly.” Annie’s voice was heavy as she took the receipt and laid it next to the yellow copy on the counter. Except for the amount they were identical— alnost . Annie was shaking her head.
“Annie.” I felt suddenly very far away from her. “What’s going on? What does all of this mean?” My concern was growing.
“It’s a long story.” She looked defeated, all brightness vacant from her features. “Awhile ago,” she began, then corrected herself. “February twelfth to be exact, my ex-husband came roaring in here saying that he had found someone who was looking for a replica of a Royal Copenhagen platter. Flora Danica , to be exact. Apparently he had noticed that I had one here and said he was doing this guy a favor and picking it up for him.” She stopped and shook her head. “I should have known better.”
I continued to stare at her, not understanding.
“He made a big deal about filling out a receipt and entering it into the ledger, and I just wanted him to get the hell out, so I told him to leave. He had never left any money, and I never bothered to make up the thirty-eight dollars.”
Her husband was a prick. I’d already figured that out. Beyond that, I didn’t really understand what all this meant. Now she was shaking her head again as she stared at the receipts. Her smile was sour as she looked at me again.
“See the difference here?” She pointed to the receipts. On the store copy, it says REPL, which stands for replica. “On the original, there’s no such notation.”
I saw the difference between the two, but still had no idea what she was so upset about. I stared at her dumbly.
“A gentleman returned the platter about a month ago. He said that my husband had represented it as an original Royal Copenhagen. He’d thought he was getting a bargain for only twenty-one hundred dollars.”
The light was beginning to go off in my head.
“Your husband sold a replica as an original?”
“Exactly.” She dropped her hands to the counter. “And he pocketed over two thousand dollars in the deal. Two thousand dollars that I had to come up with to reimburse the guy that he sold it to.”
“But you weren’t the one that sold it to him!” I was livid.
“No. But the receipt that he had has Treasured Past’s logo on it. He thought he was making a purchase from a reputable dealer. I had to pay him to keep my reputation.”
I was shocked. What kind of a son of a bitch would do such a thing? “Annie, we have to do something to get your money back.”
She was shaking her head.
“We can file suit.”
She
“Yeah. So I thought I was all set except that after I entered the amount, I was off for the month by thirty-eight dollars.” I watched the steady frown grow on her lips, and I wished I hadn’t brought any of this up.
“It’s no big deal, really. Your cash deposits are just off by thirty-eight dollars for the month. That’s all.” I tried to sound lighthearted, but knew that my attempts were failing. Annie was upset. Her facial expression and body language were screaming volumes.
“Annie. It’s only thirty-eight dollars. No big deal.”
She was ignoring me, the anger on her face something I don’t think I had ever seen before.
When she finally spoke, her voice was tight and even. “It’s a lot more than that, I’m afraid.”
I watched her for several moments, not believing that she could be getting so upset over such a small amount of money. Finally she nodded toward the cash register, and I followed her gaze.
It had been there for a very long time. A white copy of a sales receipt that had been taped to the side of the cash register. I’d glanced at it many times but had never known its significance or why it was there. Receipt number twenty-three fourteen. Now I reached out and carefully pulled it down as I studied the writing.
RC Plat F.D.— $2100.00.
“Twenty-one hundred dollars?” My voice was high. What in the hell did all this mean?
“Exactly.” Annie’s voice was heavy as she took the receipt and laid it next to the yellow copy on the counter. Except for the amount they were identical— alnost . Annie was shaking her head.
“Annie.” I felt suddenly very far away from her. “What’s going on? What does all of this mean?” My concern was growing.
“It’s a long story.” She looked defeated, all brightness vacant from her features. “Awhile ago,” she began, then corrected herself. “February twelfth to be exact, my ex-husband came roaring in here saying that he had found someone who was looking for a replica of a Royal Copenhagen platter. Flora Danica , to be exact. Apparently he had noticed that I had one here and said he was doing this guy a favor and picking it up for him.” She stopped and shook her head. “I should have known better.”
I continued to stare at her, not understanding.
“He made a big deal about filling out a receipt and entering it into the ledger, and I just wanted him to get the hell out, so I told him to leave. He had never left any money, and I never bothered to make up the thirty-eight dollars.”
Her husband was a prick. I’d already figured that out. Beyond that, I didn’t really understand what all this meant. Now she was shaking her head again as she stared at the receipts. Her smile was sour as she looked at me again.
“See the difference here?” She pointed to the receipts. On the store copy, it says REPL, which stands for replica. “On the original, there’s no such notation.”
I saw the difference between the two, but still had no idea what she was so upset about. I stared at her dumbly.
“A gentleman returned the platter about a month ago. He said that my husband had represented it as an original Royal Copenhagen. He’d thought he was getting a bargain for only twenty-one hundred dollars.”
The light was beginning to go off in my head.
“Your husband sold a replica as an original?”
“Exactly.” She dropped her hands to the counter. “And he pocketed over two thousand dollars in the deal. Two thousand dollars that I had to come up with to reimburse the guy that he sold it to.”
“But you weren’t the one that sold it to him!” I was livid.
“No. But the receipt that he had has Treasured Past’s logo on it. He thought he was making a purchase from a reputable dealer. I had to pay him to keep my reputation.”
I was shocked. What kind of a son of a bitch would do such a thing? “Annie, we have to do something to get your money back.”
She was shaking her head.
“We can file suit.”
She
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