Page 8 of Double Delivery
I set the sample aside and picked up the next one. I chuckled at the image of an octopus using its arms to make shadow puppets. I’d drawn it on a live art stream as something silly when nothing else had inspired me, and had never intended to turn it into a product. But my followers loved it and begged for at least a few products.
It was always exciting to hold my art in my hands for the first time—seeing how well my imagination had translated to something tangible.
Maybe that was why I’d been jittery all day? I’d specifically put aside the afternoon to review proofs. I’d never been anxious about it before, but it felt different.
First proofs in my new home?I wondered.
I finished reviewing the final two sticky-note pads, then looked around for the notebook samples.
It was only after a minute that I slapped my forehead. They had just been delivered and I’d left them by the door.
I righted my glasses and stood to retrieve the package. I was halfway there when the doorbell chimed.
“Coming,” I called.
A few seconds later, I opened the door to reveal yet another stunning alpha in a delivery uniform.
“I have a delivery for Mr. Planche,” he stated.
“That’s me,” I replied, forcing myself to keep from stuttering like I had with the first driver.
He handed over a small box that I recognized as coming from my sticker supplier.
“I see you also have a pickup scheduled?” he asked.
I blinked, then his words sank in. I scrambled for the boxes I’d set in my cubby for Deliveries R Us.
“Sorry about that,” I mumbled as I handed them over.
He laughed, a rich sound that made shivers run up my spine. “No problem. I’ve got in my notes that you’ll have pickups often. Any instructions I might have missed?”
I shook my head. “Nothing special, but I prefer to hand them over directly.”
He gave me a curt nod. “Got it.”
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realized that only about twenty minutes had passed since the other delivery. “May I ask a question?”
The deliveryman cocked his head. “Sure.”
“Do you and the ShipUS deliveries always come so close together?”
“You mean Slip? Yeah, our routes are almost identical, so it tends to work out that way.”
“Slip?”
“Oops… uh…” He scratched the back of his head. “So your regular ShipUs driver is Tripp, but I call him Slip.”
“Um…”
He laughed. “It’s all fun. He calls me Asshole.”
I gaped at him. “What?”
He shrugged. “My name’s Axel. Sounds pretty similar.”
“I don’t know if that makes it any better,” I argued.
“Uhhh…”
