It still felt surreal, having him here, as if he’d just walked out of a dream. “I don’t mean to stare, but I can’t believe you showed up out of the blue.”

“I come to the city fairly often,” he said. “I live in Carmel, but I’ve also got a place on Nob Hill.”

“Well, I swear I didn’t put Dorothy up to this. I had no idea … I did contact your reps to see about an event, but they weren’t encouraging. You’re a busy writer, scheduling events two years out, they said.”

“They’d schedule my bowel movements if I let them.” He grinned. “Sorry. I’m known for my potty humor.”

“So are your readers.”

“Do you mind if I ask … Is the shop really in trouble? Like Dorothy says?”

Natalie took a deep breath. “I don’t mind. There are challenges. That’s no secret in bookselling these days. I believe in this place, though. I took over the shop under unexpected circumstances.”

“Care to elaborate?” he asked. “You don’t have to if—”

“I don’t mind that, either. This was my mother’s store. It’s home to me, though. I grew up here—we lived in the apartment upstairs. She died in a plane crash, so now I’m in charge of this place.”

He briefly touched her arm. “You’ve had a tough break. Worse than tough. I’m supposed to be good with words, but I don’t know what to say. What happened is … damn. It sucks.”

“Yes. Pretty much on every level. I mean, I do love bookselling, so it’s not like I’m dragging myself to work every day. But the building’s got major problems. Business is off. My grandfather lives in the downstairs apartment, and he … well, he’s not in the best of health. My mom left behind a pile of debt she never told me about and …” She forced herself to stop the rush of words. “And I’m done complaining to you. I’m sure you didn’t come here to listen to this litany. It’s an honor to have you stop in.”

“I don’t mind hearing about your troubles. I want to help.”

“My first thought when all this happened was that I’d need to close the shop and sell the building. But it’s complicated.”

“I can do complicated.”

He was so easy to talk to that the initial jolt of tongue-tied admiration was wearing off. “My grandfather and my mom opened the Lost and Found Bookshop the year I was born, and they’ve run it together ever since.” She gestured around the room, shadowy now with the after-hours lighting. “I grew up between the stacks.”

“Is there a story behind the name? Lost and Found?”

“There is, actually. They launched the bookstore with a collection of old books Grandy found in the basement.”