Thanks soooooooooooo much to Lindsey4712 and TheBatman, who helped invent...well, I can't say yet. But just know that without them, this chapter would be...not.
We used our ambulance (and Mr. J's bag of tricks which I'd smuggled into work in my Gucci purse) to rob a bank.
"Who's in the back, Boss," asked the head henchguy, who had biceps as rock-hard as barbells but a brain as intelligent as a tuna sandwich.
"Mr...StollenCash. He's looking a little green around the gills, but he's just going through change."
I laughed at Mr. J's fabulous pun, hoping that he'd leave the hired help so we could have some "alone time" (I'd bought new lingerie and a rubber chicken - but this one didn't squirt acid like the one he used on that millionare's son). He turned into his bedroom, calling after me, "Do you have a nice dress, Harley-Girl? We're going incognito...and I hope we run into the Batman. It would be such a laugh!" He cackeled, and my heart jumped.
"Where're we going, Puddin'?"
His eyes darkened and slid into slits.
"Don't call me that, kid. And we're going to the Gotham Museum of Modern Art's gala on a business call."
"A business call?" I echoed.
"Let's say I planned a big job while I was locked up and we need some outside help."
My dress was one-shouldered and long, black-sequined; I wore black suede Givenchy pumps with mink trim and carried a black glittery Anya Hindmarch clutch. Puddin's suit was narrow light purple pinstripes and he wore shiny black dress shoes. I could feel the envy-stares of the older (and automatically less attractive) women. He'd covered his face in foundation and wore purple leather driving gloves and a black wig, so no one knew us...but I could just tell they were thinking how beautiful of a couple we made. We nibbled on appetizers as Mr. J led me through the crowd, stopping in front of a girl at a canvas.
"Excuse me...are you The Artist?"
She turned around, and my heart was shot with a lightning bolt of jealousy. She wore a scoopnecked long black dress with flattering flounces at the sides that started at her waist and flowed over her hips, with a ball-shaped clutch covered in spikes and stiletto sandals whose ankle straps were studded. But the pendant around her neck, obsidian and jade, a pallete and an easel, was the most eye-catching...besides her. Why was he hiring this beautiful painter, whose night-sky locks, long, slender waist and perfect everything else projected such seductiveness?
"Please, Mr. Joker...call me Jane."
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