Madeline Carter - 01 - Mad Money Read Online Free PDF Page A

week.”
    She looked interested. “No kidding? Where
did you live?”
    “Manhattan.”
    “Cool. That’s where I’m going to live. When
I’m 18. I’m an actress. Or I will be. Dad said you’re a
stockbroker.”
    I shook my head. “I was. I’m not
anymore.”
    “But you were?” she insisted.
    “Yeah. I was. For a long time.”
    “How’d you get into it?”
    The question made me think about my Dad,
Burton Carter. He’d been dead for a long time. I didn’t think about
him every day anymore, but I always thought of him with a grateful
fondness. My mother continued to provide the safest, most loving
zones in my life. But my father had given my adulthood its shape,
even if that shaping hadn’t always been intentional.
    Jennifer’s question brought a strong image
to my mind. Me: a little girl out for a special day with her father
which ended up including an illicit trip to Seattle’s local stock
exchange. Illicit because, when I was a kid, the trading floor was
no place for a child, my mother had made that clear. I remember the
feeling of being adrift in a sea of wool-clad knees, all of them
male. The huge room was filled with cigarette smoke and excited
shouts and important yells. It was as though the air in the room
had its own life: a life different and more exciting than the more
mundane air that might be found outside. I never forgot the feeling
and, even though the electronic world I was part of had changed the
physical aspects of the stock market beyond recognition, the
tension and excitement I’d felt that day had never really
diminished.
    “My Dad,” I said to Jennifer now. “He taught
me about the stock market when I was a little kid.”
    “He was a stockbroker?”
    “Naw,” I said. “He was an insurance agent.
He just liked the stock market. A lot.”
    “Why’d you stop?”
    People change careers all the time. There
were a lot of things I could have told her. But, as I went to
answer, the sight of Jack just before he went down flitted in front
of my eyes. I saw his big, friendly face, the welcome on it giving
way to recognition of the inevitable. I shook my head, pushing the
image away.
    “Sorry, Jennifer. It’s not something I feel
I can talk about right now.”
    I could see by her look — smug understanding
— that she figured some affair had ended painfully and I decided
this wasn’t a bad conclusion for her to draw. Easier for me than
the truth. At least for the time being.
    “Sorry,” she said, sounding like she meant
it at least a little. “I get too curious sometimes. None of my
beeswax. But the stock thing got my dad’s attention,” she admitted.
“I think he hopes you’ll rub off on me.”
    I laughed. “That’s funny. I’ve never been
cast as a role model before.”
    “That’s my dad: always casting. Goes with
the territory.”
    I looked at her thoughtfully. “I guess it
would.”
    “And he hates that I want to be an actress,
which is also funny. Considering.”
    “Considering...?”
    “Well, the business he’s in, for one. And
the fact that his wife is an actress.”
    “Your mom is an actress?”
    “No, my mom makes pots. She’s a potter,” she
clarified. “In Taos. His wife,” she jerked a thumb at my ceiling,
towards her own part of the house, “is Tasya Saranova.”
    “I saw her in Wings of Dawn. She was
wonderful,” I thought of something. “Oh... she’s...”
    “Not much older than me. Well, she’s 27, so
she’s a lot older than me, but that’s what my mom said when she
found out.”
    “She nice? Tasya, I mean.”
    “I guess. And her and my Dad are crazy about
each other.” The way she said it came out sounding like
“kar-ay-zee.”
    “That’s important.”
    She shrugged. “They’re gone a lot though.
You know, moving and shaking and stuff,” her voice was
nonchalant.
    “That rough?”
    “Not really. It means I get the place to
myself,” she pulled affectionately at Tycho’s head. “Me and lizard
boy here, that is.”
    “Not