Mr. Grant was just out of college and could already see he didn’t want to do portraits and weddings the rest of his life. He’d done a few pageants...and he told my parents that I had a unique look. He suggested that I could make a living being a model.My dad liked that idea even less. He had read about the wild parties, drugs and sex that young models had. His thirteen-year-old daughter was not getting involved in any of that. Mr. Grant said that we should find out if he was right before we. Goodness' sake. Find me somebody who's tall enough to make our starlook dainty." Okay, you're the boss." Glad you finally remembered that fact."~-~The utter finality of that pronouncement was still ringing in his earswhen Ty had crept away from the theater to wander aimlessly about thestreets of downtown New York. For several gray, wet hours Ty had tried- really tried - to find that hoped-for something positive in whathe'd overheard. On one hand, the director - that is to say - the. More

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