On the Saturday of the Quill Ransom book signing, the sun shone with the kind of golden clarity that made people fall in love with San Francisco in autumn. Natalie had worked tirelessly to prepare: a poster in the window, a special table display, printed flyers, an email blast, chirpy reminders on social media, a tent sign on the sidewalk in front of the shop. She’d sent out press releases, but the local media hadn’t picked up on anything.

Still, she was optimistic. The book was wonderful, and the author’s past titles had been praised by readers and critics alike. She splurged on a tray of assorted cookies from Sugar and put out a samovar of warm spiced cider. She and Cleo set up folding chairs for the readers and stacked the books on a table decorated with a pretty autumn floral arrangement and a pitcher of water.

When the author arrived, Natalie stood in the doorway and smoothed her hands down her A-line skirt. She didn’t dress with her mother’s colorful flair, but she wanted to look nice for the event.

Quill Ransom appeared to be a kindred spirit. Middle-aged, with intelligent eyes and salon-shiny hair, she greeted Natalie with a warm and friendly smile. “I’ve been looking forward to this,” she said, handing over a small gift bag. “Thank you for having me.”

“Thank you. We love your books, and I know our readers are going to love the new one.”

“Here’s hoping,” said Quill. “I was so sorry to hear about your mother,” she added.

Natalie nodded, acknowledging the condolence as she had so many times in the past few weeks. She showed the author around the shop and set her up at the table.

Quill glanced at the clock. The look was not lost on Natalie. “Things have been a bit slow around here,” she said.

“It’s such a lovely day. People are probably out enjoying the weather.” Quill took a dainty bite of a cookie and checked for crumbs. “Delicious,” she said. “Thanks for going to all this trouble.”

A few customers came in and browsed around. Natalie perked up. “We’re having an author signing today,” she said. “This is Quill Ransom, and she’ll be reading from her new book. Kirkus gave it a starred review.”

“Oh! I was just looking,” said one woman. She eyed the empty chairs. Her gaze skated away from the author.

“Well, let us know if we can help you find something,” Natalie said, wilting.

Cleo pitched in, trying to steer people over. Several helped themselves to cookies and cider. No one took a seat. Natalie nearly drowned in mortification.

Quill was charming as she circulated around the shop, since no one gathered to hear her read. One hesitant reader asked for a signed book. Natalie prayed silently for a dozen more. Even one more.