Adam's Daughter Read Online Free Page A

is, I have a future, a big future. And big futures sure as hell don’t happen in places like Oakland.
    Adam turned and made his way through the parked cars. He stopped abruptly. Even in the sunless morning light, one car stood out, a gleaming vision of black, yellow, and chrome. It was a Wills Sainte Claire, the latest toy of rich auto enthusiasts. Adam touched the fender.
    “Nice, isn’t she?”
    Adam looked up. A man was watching him with a bemused expression. Adam quickly took in the man’s cashmere coat, bowler hat and walking cane.
    “Yes,” Adam said, taking his hand off the car. “The most beautiful machine I’ve ever seen.”
    “Could have gotten a Duesenberg ,” the man said, “but the Wills here has much more style, right?”
    Adam nodded, trying to decide if the man was patronizing him. “A superior choice,” Adam said, with a smile.
    The man smiled back. Adam walked away, thinking about the automobile. Ever since the new machines had begun appearing on the city’s streets when he was a boy, he had longed to own one. He had always envied the things money could buy but automobiles especially fired his imagination. He resolved he would someday own a machine as splendid as the Wills. And fine clothes. He was thinking now about the man’s clothes. Clothes had never really mattered to Adam. The tweed suit he was wearing had served his needs for years. But now, for the first time, Adam felt shabby, and he realized the old suit was far too small and out of fashion.
    Adam went up to the bow, bending slightly in the wind. He gripped the rail and stared at the city spread before him.
    San Francisco. Its waters marked with the crosscutting wakes of dozens of ferries. The approaching waterfront, the tower of the Ferry Building extending like a welcoming salute, and beyond the undulating sprawl of the city’s pale buildings.
    Adam’s pulse quickened. He was by nature an emotionally reserved young man. But now he felt himself smiling, and, in a sudden, uncharacteristic burst of expectant joy, he threw back his head and laughed.
     
     
     
     

    CHAPTER TWO
     
     
    He was the first one off the ferry, and he went swiftly through the terminal, carrying his small suitcase. As he went up Market Street, his head filled with a dizzying array of images. Everywhere he looked were people, of all means and descriptions, all intent on some purposeful venture. Men in fine lounge suits with flowers in their lapels. Day laborers in dirty overalls. Chinese in both Oriental and western dress.
    And women ...splendid women in fur-trimmed coats, their pretty faces framed by cloche hats. Everywhere he looked, Adam saw another woman more beautiful than the last.
    If there was one thing he coveted more than a new automobile it was a beautiful woman. With his good looks, he had never lacked for female companionship. But these women, so richly dressed and brimming with confidence, seemed like modern goddesses. Each one ignored his smiles. No matter. Someday they would be smiling back.
    At Union Square, Adam paused outside the entrance of a tall Gothic building and stared at the gilt letters above the door. THE SAN FRANCISCO TIMES. He glanced up at the large clock, which read nine-fourteen, and then quickly looked at his watch. He cursed under his breath. He was late after all.
    He quickly found his way to the third-floor city room and was directed to the office of the city editor, George Ringman. Adam anxiously waited for Ringman to finish some business with another man. The pause gave Adam a chance to look around the city room.
    It was crowded with plain oak desks and slat-backed chairs. Gooseneck lamps poked out of the piles of paper on each desk top, and telephone cords snaked up into the ceiling. Men in loosened vests and ties, the sleeves of their white shirts rolled high, were bent over black typewriters or seated in silent clusters, their pencils moving like little whirligigs as they edited copy. A cloud of pale yellow cigarette