Madeline Carter - 01 - Mad Money by Linda L. Richards Page A

instantly. Realistically, there weren’t a lot of
people it could be.
    “Hey Emily, yeah it’s me.”
    “Funny way to answer the phone on a Sunday
night,” she said pleasantly.
    “Old habits die hard.”
    “You in work mode?”
    “I guess. Yeah, I am.” What the hell, I
thought. I’d been wanting to tell someone. “I’ve decided to do it:
I’m going to be a day trader.”
    “Ah... cool.” Which reminded me: the whole
stock market scene is so not a chick thing. It’s why I’ve
had so few friends outside of the industry over the years. A lot of
people can’t align what I do with what I project. Like I should
have close-cropped hair and wear lumpy pinstriped suits because I
trade. “Anyway,” she continued, “work is not what I was
calling about.”
    “Unless you were hoping for a hot stock tip,
I didn’t think so anyway,” I grinned.
    I could hear her smile back. “So you and the
kid want to do a movie next week?”
    “Completely. Jennifer said just to let her
know when. And I have virtually nothing scheduled in my life right
now,” which was amazingly true, “and, as far as I know, Jennifer
has no essential business meetings in the evening, so you can
pretty much name a day and time.”
    “Cool. I was thinking Thursday night. That
new space movie is playing at Mann’s. Since you’re the new kid in
town, I thought you might appreciate the chance to play
tourist.”
    Mann’s Chinese Theater! I was dismayed to
discover I actually felt somewhat thrilled at the thought. “That
sounds like a lot of fun.”
    “You guys want to go for dinner first? There
are about a million options right in that area. Well, half a
million, since the kid is underage.”
    “Sure. Name the spot.”
    We agreed to meet the following Thursday at
seven o’clock at a restaurant walking distance from Mann’s that
Emily felt sure Jennifer would know.
    I found myself looking forward to Thursday,
a shot at playing tourist and the opportunity to deepen my
relationship with my first California friends. It felt as though,
since I’d lost Jack, I’d been looking in the wrong end of a
kaleidoscope and, despite the fact that I was doing everything I
could to turn it around, I had seen my world protracted in a way
that was out of my control.
    And now? Well, I couldn’t quite see all of
the bright colors I’d once seen, but with the rough sketch of a
career plan and an upcoming outing with friends, I felt a little
bit closer. Something in my heart opened slightly. It eased.
     
     
     

Chapter Five
     
    By Thursday morning I was five days into a
new routine. I woke each day at five-forty-five, put on the coffee
and went for a run. Invariably, Tycho — an earlier riser than his
family — joined me as we pounded up and down the canyons, the fresh
sea air putting a lie to the dirty metropolis just a few miles down
the coast.
    By six-fifteen, Tycho and I were back at my
place. He had started spending so much time there, I had food and
water out for him so, after a run, I’d replenish his water. While
he drank noisily I poured my coffee. By six-twenty we were in
position: me at my computer, after a while so focused on my screen
I barely noticed the beautiful drama unfolding outside my window;
Tycho stretched out flat-sided in the middle of the living room,
the occasional snore the only thing reminding me of his
presence.
    I wasn’t trading yet. Not really. I was
preparing. And preparations were going well. I’d established what I
was now calling my “pretend portfolio,” tracking an increasing
number of securities, marking purchases in as buys and sells on a
special program I’d installed for the purpose, calculating in
brokerage fees and all fluctuations just as though I were actually
trading: only I wasn’t. There was no money behind these trades. So
far. That, I’d told myself, would change the following Monday,
which would coincide with the activation of my online trading
account. The trading I was doing at present was a