“You’re from out of town?” “Uh-huh. Cleveland.” “Quite a distance. What brings you so far?” She sighed. “Boredom. It’s like a needle. Keeps jabbing me along. Anyway, I always wanted to see good old Malibu — sin and salt water, movie stars, glamor. God! And then when my husband died, I — well, I — ” Her voice trailed. “I’m sorry,” he said. But they were just words. He couldn’t feel anything for her. “You’re sorry,” she said. “Are you really now?” She got up with the drink and crossed to the window, looked down. “Well, don’t be.” She turned. “It’s just an act with me. People expect it. He was a
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