I freeze, then turn and see Kimberly, a bookseller from Rhode Island that I’ve hooked up with at past IBNEs. There’s a reason it’s called I-BONE.

“Hey, Kimberly,” I say as she throws her arms around me.

“It is so good to see you,” she says, giving my cheek a big kiss, complete with a mwah! sound. “Are you coming to the ‘I Like It Nasty and Neurodivergent’ panel?”

“No,” I say, taking a step back. “It was on my list, but I’m heading to ‘Literary Fiction and Gen Z.’ ”

She pouts, looking disappointed and more than a little confused.

“Got to go,” I say with a wave before she can ask me anything else—including what I’m doing later.

—

Josie’s panel is packed—standing room only. I claim a spot in the back and notice with pleasant surprise that Josie is wearing her hair down. I wonder if she decided to forgo the bun because I told her how much I liked her hair down, or if she’s wearing it that way for RJ.

RJ, who she’s meeting for dinner in a few hours.

My stomach churns, and I try to quiet the what-ifs circling my head and focus on the panel, which is in full swing. Josie is the only woman, and the only one under fifty.

“Have any of you had any luck getting Gen Z interested in literary fiction?” the moderator is asking.

Josie straightens. “The other night, we held an event for—”

“How are they going to sit still and read anything worthwhile if they’re stuck on their phones all day?” an old white man—one of four on the panel with Josie—says, interrupting her for the third time in five minutes.

Josie tries again. “I actually think—”

“Their attention spans have been decimated,” another man says, nodding. “It’s a real shame, and—”

“I’m interested in hearing what Ms. Klein has to say.” The room goes quiet, and all eyes dart to the woman in the audience standing up. It’s Penelope Adler-Wolf, Josie’s hero, coming to her rescue. I’m grateful, and a little pissed at myself for not doing it first.

“Go on, Josie,” Mrs. Adler-Wolf says.

Josie flushes—both from the attention and, I bet, from the fact that her idol knows her name.

“I—I was saying that the other day we had an event with a group of teenagers.” Josie’s eyes flit toward me before she looks back at Penelope. “And a lot of them were interested in literary fiction. These kids are so smart—yes, they’re on their phones, but that means they have the whole world at their fingertips, exposing them to complex issues. They have strong opinions and real insights to offer. I think we need to do a better job listening to them instead of talking over them.”