“He’s going to do it. A book signing like this will give us a huge boost. My head is still spinning. All because of that remarkable child of yours.”

“My daughter is magic,” he said, not even trying to suppress his fatherly pride. “And good for Trevor Dashwood for taking her seriously and showing up.” At night, Peach thought. Was it weird that the writer had shown up at night? In person, rather than having his “people” call? Maybe writers were weird that way.

“No writer should be too famous to ignore a sincere letter from a fan,” said Natalie. “Especially a fan like Dorothy. Not only did she tell him about the bookstore, she included a picture of herself and a drawing she had made of him.”

“Wow. A triple threat. I don’t blame him for wanting to help. Man, she’s going to be so excited that her plan worked.” He could hang around all day talking about his kid, but there was work to be done. Other clients and other jobs were stacking up like air traffic over a busy airport, so he needed to finish this project and move on. “It’s going to be noisy in the back,” he said. “Is your grandfather up?”

“Yes, he went to the senior center for breakfast.”

“I’ll get to work, then.”

“Me too. I can’t wait to tell Cleo and Bertie. Oh, and a heads-up—a reporter and photographer from the Examiner are coming to do a little feature on the shop. The publicity machine is already kicking in.”

That probably explained the extra-pretty hair and makeup and clothes she was wearing.

“I’ll stay out of the way, then,” he said. “They won’t want my ugly mug in their paper.”

“You? Ugly?” She gave his arm a nudge. “Stop it.”

“So you think I’m beautiful?” He batted his eyes at her.

She shooed him away. “Go. Get to work, Gallagher. I’d better let Cleo and Bertie know about the reporter, too.”

Every once in a while he toyed with the idea of asking her out, but dismissed it. For one thing, he couldn’t tell if she liked him. Sometimes he felt her watching him and thought maybe yes. But most of the time, she kept her distance and he figured she wasn’t interested. Her boyfriend had died with her mom. The last thing she needed was another boyfriend. Which was for the best. Dating a client was a bad idea, something he’d learned from experience. Dating anyone was a bad idea, given his luck with women.