Lovelorn Lady — Jeanne Bowman

Already juggling two daily columns and a weekly food page for the Bay Record, Marcia Dunbar blew her redheaded top when she was handed the "Aunt Samantha" lovelorn column too. "Kid, stuff," she raged, and stormed out of the office to the parking lot... where she promptly backed her car into one driven by a very handsome -- and furious -- young man. His name was Stephen Fitzgerald, a brilliant trial lawyer, a friend told her later. "A conceited ox," said Marcia -- not a bit like comfortable Sam Bellini, the sculptor who lived next door. Not that Marcia had time for either of them. Too soon she learned the problems people passed on to Aunt Samantha were often no joke -- mistreated wives, would-be suicides, lonely widows -- she'd never guessed there were so many unhappy people. Or so many silly ones, like the girl who wouldn't let "Contrite," an obviously lovesick admirer, apologize. It never occurred to Marcia that she was that girl -- a girl so busy running other people's lives she'd forgotten how to run her own...