I Thee Bed.... Jule McBride
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he’d expected. As it turned out, the woman on the reality show wasn’t Edie Benning after all, but rather, her twin sister, Marley, and now—assuming he wasn’t going to jail—Jimmy had to come up with another game plan for getting close to Edie.
He wouldn’t mind in the least. When he’d first seen the identical twin sisters together, he’d been able to tell them apart immediately. The women were identical, yes. And yet, there was something so different about their essence. Both were about five foot five. Both had worn their feathered blond hair blown straight, and both had blue eyes the color of robins’ eggs on a foggy morning.
But it was Edie, not Marley, to whom he’d responded. The pull on Jimmy’s body had been strangely magnetic. Unforgettable, visceral, primal. He didn’t want to get to know Edie, to take her on a date, or impress her with his credentials or expertise, or even watch her eyes light up with pleasure. No…he’d awakened from dreams about her and caught himself fantasizing about loving her—quickly undressing her, stripping down her stockings, pulling down her skirt, unbuttoning the delicate blouses she favored. He could see himself pushing silk from her shoulders, exposing a white bra, the lace of which was worrying taut pink nipples that the fabric barely covered…
He suddenly blinked. Dammit, Judge Diana was staring at him, and she gave the impression she’d been doing so for some time. “Yes?” he managed.
“Did you hear a word I said, Mr. Delaney?”
With her dark eyes scrutinizing him, Jimmy decided it was probably better not to lie. “No. I’m sorry.”
“Is your own sentencing boring you?”
He shook his head.
She sighed. “For your inattention alone, I should send you to Riker’s Island.”
Riker’s Island? Ches had indicated that if Jimmy received a jail term, it would be in some cushy place for white-collar criminals. He felt Ches’s hand close over his forearm, as if Ches feared Jimmy might suddenly lunge past the judge and run for freedom.
Judge Diana was eyeing him again. Using an index finger, she pushed the black-framed glasses toward the bridge of her very straight, patrician nose. “I see you studied fine art before you went into your current occupation.”
What did that have to do with anything? “I was an art photographer, yes.”
“And now you’re pretty merciless, aren’t you, Mr. Delaney? You dress in disguises, which makes it difficult to catch you in the act while you peep in windows and the like?”
“Not exactly how I’d put it.” He wanted to add, “I’ve forgone many of the usual life pleasures, just to bring the American public the kind of pictures it most loves.” Instead, he said, “I’m going to honor the order of protection, Judge.” The truth was, he’d already done so, and she knew it, but the Darden’s security staff and legal team were turning up the heat as the wedding day neared, hoping to keep Jimmy away from Julia. They’d even insinuated he’d chased a Darden limousine, trying to get a shot of Julia, and that the car had swerved dangerously, but that was a blatant lie.
Yes he’d honored the order of protection, so far, but the Darden’s security team was starting to pose just the kind of challenge Jimmy relished. After all, he’d done the right thing, only to be punished. Besides, he did want pictures of the wedding. Celebrity Weddings magazine had an exclusive, but if anybody else could get in to shoot pictures, it would be Jimmy. Suddenly, a plan began to form in his mind. Surely, there was a way to get inside the Darden estate….
Only the pounding of the gavel brought his attention back to the judge. “All and all, Mr. Delaney,” she said, “I think you’ll find my sentence of community service fair. You will, of course, adhere to all existent orders of protection against you. That goes without saying. In addition, beginning tomorrow at the Little Red Schoolhouse on Bleeker and Sixth Avenue, from nine o’clock until noon, and for the next six weeks, you’ll meet with the shutterbugs.”
Community service? What was she talking about? Pictures he’d taken of Kiefer Sutherland picking up trash along the L.A. freeway shot through his mind. Surely, he wasn’t going to be wearing orange and cleaning public parks. Then the word registered. “Shutterbugs?”
Judge Diana nodded. “My juvie offenders. Believe me, I’ve got a bunch. This morning, an officer told me his evidence room is overflowing with camera equipment that can’t be returned which was why he couldn’t find some drug money for three months after he’d confiscated it. This should kill three birds with a stone.”
“Three birds?” muttered Ches.
She nodded. “The officer, the kids and Mr. Delaney.”
“Juvie offenders?” Jimmy managed. He’d been a lone child, and the only kids he knew lately were Ches and Elsa’s sons, and they weren’t even old enough to call him “Uncle Jimmy” yet. “I’m sorry, Judge, but I don’t know how to teach—”
An elbow to the gut nearly took away his breath. Judge Diana, who’d seemed to catch the action, smiled. “I see your attorney, uh…” She paused, her smile broadening. “Gets the picture.”
A second later, Jimmy was blinded by a series of white flashes, and in the next heartbeat, he realized his own buddies had circled to the front of the courtroom to snap his slack-jawed expression. Already, he could see the picture in the Post or the Daily News. The text would read something like, From Julia to Juvies. Didn’t these guys care that selling such a photo would publicize his face, making him that much easier to spot, endangering his ability to work? “With friends like these,” he muttered, “who needs enemies?”
And then thankfully, Judge Diana saved Jimmy’s day by saying, “Bailiff, please confiscate all the cameras.”
“THIS WEEK, YOUR ASSIGNMENT is to shoot two rolls of film, then next week, we’ll start learning how to develop them in the darkroom here at the school. Are there any more questions about the basic operation of the cameras?”
The fifteen kids, ranging in age from ten to fifteen, shook their heads, and eleven-year-old Melissa Jones shuddered with pleasure. Every time she’d looked at her hero during the past three hours, she’d almost swooned. She loved tabloids, as well as watching shows like Entertainment Tonight, so she was completely familiar with Jimmy Delaney’s work, not to mention a super-fan. She’d never have expected him to be such a hunk, though. He was so supercute. Supercool, too. Even the tougher, older kids weren’t giving him a hard time. She raised her hand again, just so he’d notice her. “Do we get to take the camera home today, Mr. Delaney?”
“Yes. Like I said, you’re supposed to take pictures this week, okay? And you can’t do that unless you take the cameras. But don’t forget to be careful with the equipment. It’s the property of the state.”
“Yo, bro,” said a kid in front of her to one of his friends. “That means we don’t hawk them on Canal Street.”
“That’s right,” agreed Jimmy. “But Chinatown would be a great place to take pictures.” After turning to write a number on the blackboard, he began going from desk to desk, to double-check cameras and film. “That’s my number on the board. Call me at home if you have questions.”
His home number! Very carefully, Melissa copied it into her pink notebook, feeling her hands getting sweatier as he neared her desk. Setting down her pencil with shaking fingers, she slicked her palms down the sides of her jeans, shuddered, then smoothed her dark hair away from her face.
Jimmy’s straight fine jet-black hair was cut very short, and even though he’d slicked it back, it stuck almost straight up, just the way Matt Damon and Ben Affleck wore theirs. He had a very square jaw, dark, liquid eyes, and a tiny dot of a mole beside his mouth.
Supersexy, Melissa thought. Yes, if she had realized that being a criminal would help her meet Jimmy Delaney, she’d have started shoplifting and maxing out her mother’s credit cards on catalog shopping way back in the first grade. Suddenly, sadness twisted inside her as her mind flashed on her last arrest