Trust Me

of Desdemona’s employees were required to wear when on duty in the firm’s kitchens.
    “Desdemona, I don’t know how to tell you this, but I must leave you. Please don’t hate me.”
    Desdemona frowned. “Where are you going?”
    “I must follow my destiny. I told you when I took this job that I was meant for bigger and better things. I know that it will be difficult for you to go on without me, but you will survive. You’re strong, Desdemona.”
    “Rafael, close the door, sit down, and tell me what’s going on.”
    Rafael straightened, shut the door, and dropped into the chair on the other side of Desdemona’s desk. “I’ve got a new job.”
    Desdemona groaned. “Oh, damn.”
    “I’m going to the Fountains, the new hotel in Bellevue.”
    Desdemona was stunned. “You’re going to leave me for a hotel job on the Eastside? For crying out loud, Rafael, you’ll be doing ice carvings for Sunday brunches. You call that destiny?”
    Rafael gave her a mournful look. “I knew you would take this hard. It wasn’t an easy decision, Desdemona. But I’ve been promised complete artistic freedom.” He spread his hands. “How could I refuse?”
    “This is all because I made you do those swans for the Stark-Bedford wedding, isn’t it? You’re still in a snit because I wouldn’t let you sculpt your own designs.”
    “My designs were exquisite,” Rafael retorted. “I took my inspiration from the Kama Sutra. They were perfectly suited to a wedding banquet.”
    “Rafael, be honest. Don’t you think a series of ice sculptures featuring naked couples in various sexual positions would have been just a tad much for the buffet table of a formal wedding?”
    “My designs were a superb realization of wedding-night ecstasy.”
    “What would you know about wedding-night ecstasy? You’ve never been married. In any event the Stark-Bedford reception was a very classy affair. Your sculptures would have shocked the guests.”
    Rafael gave her a reproachful look. “A true artist cannot allow himself to be chained by the mediocre tastes of the rabble. Nor can he allow his patron to dictate his creative vision.”
    “I’m not your patron, I’m your employer.”
    “Not anymore.”
    “You think you’re actually going to be allowed to carve anything you want to carve at the Fountains?”
    “That’s what I have been promised.”
    Desdemona lost her temper. “All right, go ahead and take the job. See how long you get to enjoy your artistic freedom. When are you leaving?”
    “Today.”
    Desdemona was outraged. “You can’t leave today. I’ve got the Cosini luncheon on Thursday and the Lambeth-Horton wedding on Friday. I’d planned to have ice sculptures on the tables for both events.”
    “I’m sorry, Desdemona.” Rafael got to his feet. “You must find someone else to do your silly swans and dolphins. I am no longer willing compromise my integrity as an artist. I must seek my true path”
    “Rafael, wait.” Desdemona leaped out of her chair and started round the edge of the desk. “Let’s talk about this.”
    “There is nothing more to discuss. I must be free of the shackles of commercial art.” Rafael flung open the door.
    “Damn it, you’re going to regret this. If you think your new employer is going to let you do a bunch of sexy ice sculptures for the Eastside Sunday brunch crowd, you’ve got another thought coming.”
    The phone rang on Desdemona’s desk. She snatched up the receiver. “Right Touch.”
    “Desdemona Wainwright, please.”
    Business first. Desdemona forced herself to speak calmly and pleasantly. “This is Desdemona Wainwright. How can I help you?”
    “This is Maud Pitchcott. I’m calling on behalf of Mr. Stark of Stark Security Systems.”
    Desdemona’s hand clenched around the phone. For some reason she was suddenly a little breathless. “What can I do for you?”
    “Mr. Stark wants to know if you would be interested in a contract with this firm. He would like to hire you as a social event consultant.”
    “A social event consultant?” Desdemona waved Rafael out of the office. She sank slowly back down into her chair.
    “You would assume the responsibility for handling all of Stark Security Systems’ social commitments for the next three months. You would also act as his hostess when necessary. Are you interested in the contract, Miss Wainwright?”
    “Are you kidding?” Desdemona grabbed a pen. “I mean, yes. Yes, I’m definitely interested.”
    “In