The Crasher Read Online Free PDF Page B

recognize the signs. Graham was restless; she’d caught him poring over themap again; seen him hang up the phone hurriedly when she came into his study. Responses to his ads hadn’t been good, she knew
     that, but this time she’d demanded and he’d promised her in writing he’d give Dallas at least three years before moving on.
     This time she’d written down something, too.
    No matter what “extraordinary opportunity” beckoned in some other “prime location,” she wasn’t going with him. Not this time.
     Not if he broke his word before at least three years were up. She was earning more at Neiman Marcus than she’d ever earned.
    She tried to stop herself thinking it, but she couldn’t. If Graham left them, financially Ginny and she would actually be
     better off. If she didn’t have to pay for Graham’s small ads and endless printing and mail expenses, she could easily pay
     the rent on the horrible little hovel they were in and everything else that she and Ginny needed.
    If Graham had the gall to bring the subject up, she’d let him know at once—one, two, three—that she and Ginny were staying
     put in Dallas. At least she prayed that if and when the moment came, she would have the guts to say and do it.
    The problem was, despite everything, sometimes he could still convince her all was not lost, that one day he would be recognized
     as the visionary she’d once been so certain he was.
    If she only had herself to consider, she knew she’d be a camp follower forever, but it wasn’t just herself. It was only recently
     she’d begun to realize there wasn’t a moment to lose to begin planning a future for Ginny.
    Her eyes misted over as in the distance she saw Ginny march around the corner of the huge store. Her nearly-sixteen-year-old-going-on-thirty-year-old
     daughter did look like a million dollars in her hardly recognizable camel hair coat, but there again Ginny had taken something
     that didn’t belong to her. Her values were all mixed up. Where on earth was it going to lead her? One day into real trouble.
    She must have dozed off, because to Virginia’s surprise she saw Ginny reappear around the corner. She looked at herwatch. She hadn’t been gone for more than twenty minutes. She must have arrived too late for Cindy Crawford and MTV.
    Poor Ginny. She’d take the disappointment very badly. Virginia could only hope, without much confidence, that at least it
     would be a lesson to her not to try to cram all her dreams into one day.
    As her daughter walked slowly toward the car, her demeanor expressing total defeat, Virginia was struck by how tall she was.
     Wait a minute. Virginia had a wonderful idea. If Ginny only grew a couple more inches, there was a job that could offer her
     the opportunity her brains and looks entitled her to, a job that could move her into the kind of circles where she might meet
     someone… someone who could give her the million-dollar life that Virginia knew, from a lifetime of listening to her clients,
     existed outside the fitting room.
    Ginny could become the perfect runway model. She had always been skinny—essential to show off a designer’s clothes. She had
     good posture, lovely skin, her own mother’s deep dark eyes, a wonderful smile, and Graham’s thick chestnut hair. She wasn’t
     exactly pretty, but she was—or could look—cute, impish.
    As Ginny approached, desolate and downcast, she was amazed—and furious—to see her mother looking so cheerful. How could she,
     on the worst day of her whole life?
    “They wouldn’t even let me in the door, Mother. There were thousands there. They—”
    “Oh, never mind, Ginny. There’ll be lots of other things…”
    This was impossible. Her mother didn’t understand what she was talking about and obviously didn’t care either, probably concentrating
     on what she was going to cook for supper.
    They drove home without exchanging a word, although Virginia didn’t realize it. She was too busy thinking