$ 0 0 Whatever, or whoever, was the cause of her sudden twist of fortune, Anne wasn’t disembarking in Los Angeles. The travel itinerary from the studio specified her arrival in Palm Springs. Having flown in from slushy, dingy, frigid New York City in the middle of February she walked outside the terminal. She felt her shoulders drop and her neck loosen. It was warm. It smelled good—just like the cosmetic counter at Barneys. She looked up, a clear unobstructed shot of the sky, which was an uncanny shade of blue…