Page 26 of The Overtime Persuasive

“That you’re not Lucy.”

“I can’t fix that. Now, what’s the second problem?”

Her eyes narrow before she turns and walks toward the back of the store. I’ll take that as progress.

I follow her past the register and into a room that looks as though a bookstore, record shop, and shipping warehouse have collided. Boxes cover one end of a long table. Stacks of books and records run down the middle, followed by candles, tea, chocolate, and enough orange tissue paper to gift-wrap a small car.

I notice that a sticker lies on the floor beside her shoe and pick it up. “What’s up with this?”

She rubs her temples. “The adhesive doesn’t work.”

I press it on the side of one of the kraft boxes. It sticks for two seconds before the edges curl toward me.

“Maybe it doesn’t like cardboard.”

“Thank you, Liam. That insight alone was worth waiting for.” She makes a show of looking at her watch. “You have eight minutes.”

Undaunted, I try the sticker on the glossy cover of a book, then peel it away before it can cause any damage. Next, I press it onto a scrap of orange tissue paper.

Success.

“There, you can still use the sticker.” With a flourish, I show Eva. “Put it on the tissue that goes inside.”

She looks at me. “The logo is supposed to go on the outside of the box.”

“Why does it have to?”

“Because that’s the branding.”

“The box already has your return label. Wrap everything in the tissue and seal it with this. Then your logo is the first thing they see when they open it.”

Eva looks dubiously from me to the sticker.

“It becomes part of the unboxing,” I add.

Her eyebrows rise. “You know what an unboxing is?”

“I have access to the internet, and, on the occasional day off, I do enjoy a good hockey unboxing on YouTube.”

“They have those?” she asks as she takes the tissue paper from me, folds it around one of the books, and presses the sticker over the seam.

“No clue,” I respond, my eyes glued to her movements. I want to cheer, but I don’t, when the sticker stays for her too.

She turns it over. Presses it again. It’s still there.

“That’s not terrible, Liam. Not at all.”

“Careful. I might think you’re impressed.”

“Let’s do some boxes, it’ll help us get going.” She reaches for an empty box and folds the sides into place with three quick movements. “Watch what I do, then mimic it.”

I hip check her, making her laugh, as I slide in beside her. “I know how boxes work.”

The bottom falls open when I pick mine up, and even though I can sense she wants to, Eva says nothing.

“Construction issue,” I tell her.

“Of course.” She nods, taking it from my hands to demonstrate the correct method. She shows me how the tabs lock together, then begins walking me through the packing order. Tissue first. Record flat. Book centered over it. Candle on its side so it doesn’t press against the record sleeve. Tea and chocolate tucked into the remaining space.