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 in Bloomingdale’s. Her parents had looked so devastated. That was the word her mother had kept using—devastated.
But could Melissa help it if she was bored? And if her parents were always so mad at her?
“We’ve given you everything!” her mother had exclaimed between sobs, after she’d spoken with the security staff and watched her daughter on the videotape, stealing a pair of men’s leather gloves. Her father, who had been a lot less kind, had said Melissa could, “forget about taking any time-outs.” Both her parents had said she was a selfish girl, but Melissa didn’t understand how they could have arrived at that. She always gave money to Jack Stevens, the homeless man who slept over the grate beneath the fire escape below her apartment. And the gloves had been for him.
Jack didn’t really seem homeless, anyway. Since he was the first street person to whom Melissa had ever spoken, she’d been very surprised and had completely revised her opinion about homelessness. He’d once had a really nice apartment uptown, but after he’d lost his job, his wife had left, which was bad timing because it turned out his son needed an operation, and the insurance had lapsed, which meant the medical expenses had wiped Jack out financially. His son was better now, but he was with Jack’s wife, and Jack missed them both so much that he’d started drinking, which had made things go from bad to worse. Now, Jack really thought he could turn things around if he could get into a rehab center, but treatment would cost several thousand dollars.
See? Melissa fumed. She knew all about Jack’s life! Didn’t that show she was unselfish? She had what people called empathy, too. She definitely understood Jack’s financial crunch. While her mother said Melissa had been given everything, it wasn’t really true. Melissa wanted a horse, for instance, and she could easily relate that to Jack’s feelings about his son.
She’d wanted a horse for over a year, ever since she’d seen the movie, Black Beauty, and when she’d asked, her father had said, “Maybe.” Later, he’d gone on to say that it was more complex than just getting a horse, since they lived in New York City and would need to board it. When Melissa had suggested they move to Wyoming, her father had just laughed at her.
Well, she’d show him! Opening the back of her camera, she slowly inserted the film just as Jimmy had illustrated for the class. The key to success in business was filling a niche. She’d heard her father say it a thousand times. And now, with Jimmy Delaney gone from the paparazzi business, there was a niche to fill. Since Melissa’s dad had been a linebacker for the NFL before retiring and becoming a sportscaster for a network, Melissa could get access to TV studios. The network even had an after-school program that Melissa had previously refused to attend.
Who could shoot celebrities more easily than a kid, after all? Adults never noticed kids. Melissa couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of this before. If she wanted to do so, she could even get supersexy pictures in the girls’ dressing rooms. If everything went as planned, she could sell the pictures, earn enough money to buy a horse, and then she wouldn’t even be tempted to steal in the future.
Not that Jimmy was directly suggesting the kids should go into his line of work. But he’d chosen it, hadn’t he? And that meant he’d decided it was a good job. Now, all Melissa had to do was convince Jack Stevens to help her sell the pictures she took. She’d need a grown-up to do things such as open a bank account. She could almost see the beautiful black stallion she was going to buy, and maybe…
Jimmy Delaney paused beside her desk. “What kind of pictures do you want to shoot this week, Melissa?”
When he leaned down, close to her desk, Melissa could smell a faint tinge of soap and aftershave lotion. She wanted to tell him he was so beautiful that he could be a movie star, but she only sent him a huge smile. “Close-up shots of flowers mostly,” she said sweetly. “Maybe you can teach me how to make them look soft and fuzzy,” she continued, trying to make her voice sound breathless. “The way they do in the art magazines.” She paused. “How much money do you make when you sell things to the Post?”
His eyes widened. “When class began, I said I wasn’t going to talk about that,” he said, leaning even closer.
Her dark eyes locked with his. “Ballpark?”
For a moment, he was still, then his shoulders started shaking and he laughed. “Soft and fuzzy flowers,” he repeated. “I’ll be happy to give you some pointers on that, Melissa.”
Melissa. She blew out a slow, shivery breath, barely able to believe that Jimmy Delaney—the Jimmy Delaney—had called her by her first name. Ever since the incident at Bloomingdale’s, she’d been so depressed, but now life was looking up! And regarding her question about picture fees, Melissa wasn’t the least bit concerned. She was a whiz on the Internet, and absolutely no information had ever eluded her.
2
“WHY DON’T WE MOVE into the front room again?” Edie Benning suggested, glancing between a dark-haired woman named Stacy LaPaglia and her husband-to-be, Reggie Hammer. The Darden wedding aside, business was slow, so Edie couldn’t afford to alienate even one client. She was doing her best to be diplomatic and fulfill the couple’s desires; yet, she could hardly let Stacy and Reggie remain in the conference room, perusing notes, sketches and lists pertaining to the Darden event. “Really, what we most strive to do at Big Apple Brides,” Edie coaxed, “is to make each wedding absolutely
