The titles were simple and straightforward—Cat and Mouse. Rich Kid, Poor Kid. Class Clown, Class Brain. Geek and Jock.

“Well, that’s ingenious,” Natalie said. “I can see why you like these books. I’ll have to read some of them right away.”

“You should! I bet you’d like Jack and the Giant.” Dorothy handed her a copy. “Everybody thinks the giant is bad, but when you read what he’s really like—well, I won’t spoil it for you.”

Natalie opened the book, and her gaze fell on the inner flap of the cover, which featured the author’s photo. Trevor Dashwood had perfectly sculpted cheekbones, a glorious tousle of hair, a crisp white shirt, and an intriguing, slightly mischievous grin. Either he was the best-looking author she’d ever seen, or this picture was his greatest work of fiction.

His brief bio offered tantalizing details—homeschooled in Northern California, attended Oxford University through a program for exceptionally creative students, avid book collector, founder of a nonprofit fund to help children dealing with addicted parents, winner of the Prix de la Croix in France. The bio concluded, “Mr. Dashwood lives on the California coast near San Francisco.”

“I’ll start tonight,” Natalie said. “He sounds like a wonderful person.”

Dorothy hugged Big Sister, Little Sister to her chest. “I’m getting this one.” She jumped up and went to the counter.

“Are you a big sister? Or a little sister?”

“Nope,” said Dorothy. “But maybe soon.”

“You’ll still have enough left on the gift card to get something else if you want,” Natalie told her after showing her the total.

“Oh, good! Sometimes I read a book too fast and then I panic because I need another one right away.”

“I can relate,” said Natalie. “Would you like a suggestion?”

“Sure!”

Natalie went back to the children’s nook and selected a book her mother had specially highlighted with a handwritten card. “Wedgie and Gizmo,” Natalie said. “I like their names.”

“Me too.” Dorothy studied the bright, whimsical cover. “It looks really good. Do I have enough to get this one, too?”

“I think you’re in luck.” Natalie rang up the purchase, and for a moment, it was like old times. A delightful customer, delighted with her purchases. A sale completed. Natalie took extra care, putting the little girl’s books in a bag, adding a bit of swag—a bookmark with the shop’s slogan and a pin that said Read All Night.

“Here you go,” Natalie said. “You’re all set.”

“Thank you.”

Grandy came into the shop from the back. He had his cane in one hand and a yellow writing pad in the other. “Is that Dorothy I hear?” he asked.

“Hiya, Mr. Harper!” She favored him with her gap-toothed grin. She was like a cartoon character come to life.

Natalie was gratified by the delighted expression on her grandfather’s face. “You two know each other, then.”