Trust Me

the keyboard. Stark knew he was punching up ARCANE. Meanwhile, Tony opened the briefcase to display the contents. He glanced inside and nodded as if satisfied.
    A done deal. Head still averted, Tony even shook Kilburn’s hand.
    The Federal agents, three men who had been posing as traveling businessmen, moved in.
    At the last instant Kilburn realized what was happening. He stared wildly at the men closing in on him. Then he lashed out at Tony, who easily ducked the blow and stuck out a foot.
    Kilburn stumbled over the obstacle and toppled heavily to the floor. A man in a nondescript suit crouched down to handcuff him.
    It was over.
    “Let’s go.” Stark got to his feet.
    Benedick put down his newspaper and rose. Together they walked over to the corner near the rest rooms to watch the denouement.
    A small crowd also gathered to watch the proceedings.
    Kilburn looked up at the ring of onlookers surrounding him and spotted Stark. His face contorted with fury.
    “You bloody son of a bitch,” Kilburn said in a choked voice. “Everyone always said you were so damned smart. You goddamn son of a bitch.”
    “Gotcha,” Stark said.

    Twenty minutes later Stark leaned against the airport rest room wall, hooked a thumb in the waistband of his jeans, and watched as Tony removed the mustache, wig, and makeup.
    “You handled that very well,” Stark said.
    Benedick beamed. “That’s my boy.”
    Tony struggled to control a buoyant grin. He met Stark’s eyes in the mirror. “Thanks.”
    “Want a job?”
    Tony blanked. “Job?”
    “I’m thinking of expanding Stark Security Systems services to include some investigative personnel. I’ll need a few good people who are computer literate and who can also go undercover to gather evidence onsite. Interested?”
    Benedick’s brows twitched in surprise. He eyed Stark but said nothing. He waited calmly for his son’s answer.
    “Yeah.” Tony spoke cautiously but his eyes were gleaming with excitement. “I might be interested.”
    “Okay,” Stark said. “You’re hired. Report to my secretary tomorrow morning. She’ll arrange to get you on the payroll.”
    “Just like that?”
    “Why not? It’s my company.”
    Tony narrowed his eyes. “This wouldn’t, by any chance, be a sneaky way of making certain that I no longer have an excuse to mooch off Desdemona while I’m between acting engagements, would it?”
    “Do you want the job or not?”
    “Yeah.” Tony laughed as he ripped off the fake mustache. “I want the job.”

    The following morning Augustus put down his latte cup with an air of grave deliberation and surveyed his audience.
    “I am not altogether certain,” he intoned, “that I approve of this growing trend toward regular employment that has appeared among the younger generation of Wainwrights.”
    Desdemona, Celia, Bess, Juliet, and Kirsten, seated around two tables in the espresso bar, groaned in unison.
    “For heaven’s sake, dear.” Bess patted Augustus’s arm in a reassuring manner. “It’s just a day job. Tony will still be free to pursue his acting career.”
    “But will he want to pursue it?” Augustus asked darkly. “That’s what concerns me. All he can talk about is his new job as a computer spy.”
    “He’s a Wainwright,” Celia said calmly. “He’ll never give up acting.”
    “Actually, the position at Stark Security Systems is a sort of acting job when you think about it,” Kirsten pointed out. “Stark said he was very impressed by the way Tony performed last night at the airport.”
    “And just think of the added financial stability it will bring to the family,” Celia said.
    “There is that.” But Augustus clearly remained unconvinced.
    “Tony seems very enthusiastic,” Bess said. “In fact, he seemed elated. Let’s be honest here. We all know that for years he has been getting increasingly frustrated and unhappy. This morning when I talked to him he was a new man.”
    Celia nodded. “That’s just what Benedick said.”
    “Can’t deny that’s important,” Augustus admitted. “I suppose it will be all right. Stark is about to become a member of the family, after all. It’s not as though Tony has gone to work for an outsider.”
    Desdemona couldn’t stand it any longer. She grabbed a napkin and burst into tears.
    Everyone turned toward her in astounded concern.
    “What’s wrong?” Celia asked anxiously.
    “Bridal jitters,” Bess declared.
    “No, it’s not that.” Desdemona blotted her eyes.