Natalie went backstage, where Shelly freshened her makeup and hair. It was surreal that she had a hair-and-makeup person. Shelly had put together her outfit—jeans and white sneakers, a white T-shirt, and a rainbow-colored silk scarf. A kid-friendly look, Shelly had explained. Fun and approachable. It was something Natalie’s mother might have chosen to wear, and she felt like an imposter in it, but she trusted Shelly.

The stage was set with three stools and a small table furnished with water bottles. The backdrop was a folding screen decked with the titles and cover art of Trevor’s books.

As she prepared to go onstage, Natalie’s mouth went dry and her throat tightened. Glancing at the red numbers on a digital countdown clock, she saw that she had exactly one minute to pull herself together. The buzz in the huge room crescendoed. Trevor came up behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. “I used to get nervous, too.”

“I’m ridiculous, I know.”

“You’re not. And here’s something else. I used to tell myself it was just a room full of kids. Why would any thinking adult be intimidated by a bunch of kids? That didn’t help, though. An audience of kids is just as tough as an audience of adults. With more squirming.”

“This isn’t helping,” she whispered.

“I know. Nothing helps.” He squeezed her shoulders. “We’re just going to power through it. And by the way, you’re beautiful and I’m excited about dinner tonight.”

“And you,” she said, “are too good to be true.”

He let go of her and gave her a gentle nudge toward the stage. “I’ll remember you said that.”

The stage lights came on and the house lights dimmed, creating a surge of noise from the audience, followed by a collective hush. Natalie flashed on memories of her mother through the years, confidently striding out to the bookstore podium to introduce an honored guest. She’d been so polished, fluid and witty, warming up the crowd. Be like Mom, she told herself, smoothing her hands over the bright scarf.

She thought about the time she’d stood at a podium facing the people at Pinnacle, her chest clammy with the wine her coworker had spilled on her conservative, buttoned-down blouse and blazer. A disaster had happened that day. She was bracing herself for a disaster now.

She took a step forward, and it felt a bit like stepping off a cliff, but somehow her legs carried her to the center of the stage.

“My name is Natalie Harper, and I’m excited about the Flip Side books,” she said. “Who’s with me?”

Applause and hollering. Stomping of feet. She waited for a lull, then said, “I thought so. Thanks for supporting San Francisco’s own homegrown bookstore, the Lost and Found Bookshop.”

Light applause, mostly from adults being polite.