“You’re not here for that,” Natalie acknowledged. “You’re here for America’s favorite author, Trevor Dashwood.”

Heavy applause now.

“Here’s what I know about Trevor. He showed the world that there’s a flip side to everything. Another side to every story. No matter what the situation, Trevor can find the flip side and turn it into a story. His books have won awards. They’ve been published all over the world. But the reason we love him is for the stories he tells. So please welcome Mr. Trevor Dashwood.”

The applause and cheers drowned out everything, even her stage fright. Cameras pointed at her, and bloggers and members of the local press clustered near the front, taking notes. She would probably collapse from relief later, but at the moment, she stood smiling as Trevor strode to the middle of the stage. He was a natural showman, wonderfully at ease, and dressed like the coolest kid on the block, including a baseball cap with a caterpillar logo.

She reached out to shake hands with him. He took her hand, but instead of shaking, he bowed, and then twirled her like a ballroom dancer as the applause continued.

He kept hold of her hand and waited for a break in the noise. “Not so fast,” he said to Natalie. “I want everybody here today to know who this nice lady is. She’s a bookseller. A purveyor of dreams. A writer’s best friend. You see, a bookseller is the link between the stories we tell and the readers we tell them to. Without that, a story has no life outside the writer’s imagination.”

Like a seasoned showman, he doffed his cap and put it on backward. A butterfly on a nylon filament popped out and fluttered around his head. Murmurs of delight rippled through the audience.

“I don’t know about you,” Trevor said, “but when I see someone reading a book I love, I automatically count them as a friend. So if you’re here for my books, you’re among friends. I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up. That was what books were for. Do you know what homeschooling is?” he asked. As lots of hands went up, he said, “I was homeschooled, so for me, going to the bookstore was more than just a shopping trip. It was a safe place to learn, and to do what I love more than anything else—reading.” He gestured at the audience. “You’re doing something good by being here. Not just for me, but for this bookstore that’s been a neighborhood treasure for decades.”

“Thank you,” she said, smiling up at him. “That was beautiful.”

He offered a formal bow with a flourish and set aside the trick hat. “Okay, kids. Boring sentimental part’s over. Let’s have some fun!”