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But the studio would no doubt have it straightened. They had an adolescent concept of female beauty.
    â€œSo if we see each other half the time, we’ll be in love all those half hours, or half days. Does that make sense?” Of course it didn’t, but I thought it might fly.
    â€œMaybe.”
    â€œAnd who knows, maybe someday soon you’ll meet the man of your dreams—someone you’re not just half, but completely in love with—and you’ll live happily ever after.”
    â€œWould you come to the wedding?”
    I began to think we had reached safe ground when she made this joke. She didn’t make them often.
    â€œYes, but don’t expect an expensive gift. I only get twenty-five dollars a day, plus expenses.”
    She looked at me seductively. She smoldered better than Garbo, which no doubt the screen test had revealed. Take my word, she could really smolder.
    â€œHow do you know you’re not the man of my dreams? Maybe I’m more than half in love.”
    â€œI doubt it. I may be the man of your daydreams, but not the important kind. They come at night.” For a moment I wished I was wrong about that, but I didn’t think I was. I knew she was just feeling vulnerable. We had come west together, and now she was turning herself over to some corporation with its publicity-making machine, and she was nervous. Anyone with any sense would be; her life was spinning out of her control. Hell, she had just lost her own biography. At that moment, I think I could have talked her out of the whole deal, told her to give the studio the back of her hand and come with me . . . somewhere. But it wouldn’t have been right. She was too beautiful, and she deserved a chance. There was a real possibility that she could make it. She had that proverbial “something.”
    Besides, I wasn’t going anywhere. I’d keep an eye on her. If someone did her wrong, they’d have to answer for it. I made that pact with myself as I held her.
    â€œI owe you so much,” she said, tearing up again. She had the most gorgeous blue eyes, almost lavender.
    â€œGet me a ticket to your first premiere, and we’ll call it square. I’ll rent a tuxedo. And there are other ways. As I said, I know the way to Malibu, and gas is cheap. How soon do you have to go?”
    â€œThe studio is sending a car. They should be here in an hour.”
    It was my turn to render a seductive look. Now and then I can get one right. “That gives us just enough time.”

    For the first few minutes after Myrtle left, I have to admit I was a little depressed. The bed seemed empty even though I was still in it. The scent of her perfume, most of it natural, was lingering on the pillow and sheets where moments ago we had said a temporary good-bye. It was depressing to think that it might not have been just temporary. Things seemed to spiral out of control in life. What’s the second law of thermodynamics? Things move from stasis to chaos, or something like that. Lives did that too, sometimes. And wouldn’t my high-school science teacher be proud of me for remembering that. He was an odd character, with only two neckties and one shiny suit. There’d been an acid burn in one of the ties, but he still wore it. Times had been tough then, just like now. You didn’t give up on a tie just because it had a hole in it.
    I got up finally, put on my bathing suit, and poured myself the long-delayed drink and drank it. Maybe the starlets were swimming by now. As anyone who has thought about it knows, the only antidotes to booze and women are booze and women. I went out to the pool to see what was happening.
    They said the pool was shaped like the Black Sea because when Alla built it, she had wanted to be reminded of her homeland, which was somewhere in the Crimea. Maybe so. But it was certainly big enough. There were the usual collections of stunning young women in scanty bathing suits holding