He had to admire her persistence and patience, even when she had to explain—repeatedly—that the well-known proprietress of the Lost and Found Bookshop had died. Cleo, her coworker, came in to work and asked if she’d had any luck setting up events.

Natalie scanned the shop—empty except for Peach—with a wistful glance. “Maybe writers are like guys,” she said. “All the good ones are taken.”

“You’ll find someone,” Cleo said. “Several someones.”

“I’ve left a dozen voice mails,” Natalie said. “Nobody returns calls anymore.”

Peach didn’t know anything about running a bookstore, but he figured any writer would feel lucky to sign books here. For all its faults, the place was a gem—great atmosphere, a treasure trove of old and new books, a staff of folks who knew and liked literature.

He motioned Natalie over. “Can I show you something?”

“Good news or bad news?” she asked him, her voice thin with weariness.

“I feel like the grim reaper.” He led the way to the upstairs bathroom, an excessively feminine space dominated by an impressive antique tub with high sides and claw feet. The room smelled like flowers and candles. Hunkering down, he aimed his flashlight at the pried-up floorboards in the space under the tub.

“If anybody deserves a break,” he said, “it’s you. But this needs to be addressed.” He showed her where galvanized pipe had been improperly connected to copper pipe. A slow fiasco was unfolding beneath the floorboards.

“This is bad, right?” Natalie asked quietly. “How bad?”

“Is the bathtub going to go crashing through the floor today? Nah. But the longer it goes on, the more it’ll take to fix it.”

She sat back on her heels and nodded glumly. “You’d better fix it.”

He extended a hand and helped her to her feet. It occurred to him that he hadn’t held a hand other than Dorothy’s in a long time. They went to the main room of the apartment, which was filled with light slanting through the dormer windows and playing with the angles of the roof. The millwork had details from the Gilded Age—fretwork and corbels, flourishes from a bygone era.

“What?” she asked. “I can see you’re having thoughts.”

“You can, eh?”

“The way you’re looking around. Is something else falling apart?”

“You can always find something in a building this old. But that’s not what I was thinking. This place is really beautiful. Tons of original historical detail, and it hasn’t been ruined by a bad remodel job.”

She set her hands on her hips and slowly turned. “That’s kind of you—to say something nice about this old place.”

“Seriously, it’s a classic. I love the character of it.”

“As far as I know, it’s never been touched. We were either averse to change, or too broke to upgrade.”