Trust Me

family doesn’t matter. The only thing that’s important is that I am part of the family.”
    “Then you’d better find yourself a keeper before you lose your shirt trying to employ all of your shade-tree relatives.”
    “Is that so?” Desdemona no longer cared if anyone overheard the argument. “If you don’t like the way I operate, maybe you’d better find yourself another caterer to put on retainer. Someone with a nice, logical, analytical way of doing things.”
    Stark’s eyes became ice-cold emeralds. “Lower your voice before you cause a scene.” He took her arm and marched her off the floor.
    “I’ve got news for you, Stark,” Desdemona said with great relish, “you’ve pushed me too far. I’m past the point of worrying about whether or not I make a scene.”
    “In that case, I’m taking you home.”
    “You wouldn’t want to do that.” She fixed him with a smile intended to outshine the chandeliers. “This isn’t a real date. We came here to do some business, remember? We haven’t turned up any new customers for Stark Security Systems or for Right Touch.”
    “You want to do business?” He came to a halt near the buffet table. “Then my advice is to start acting in a businesslike manner.”
    “You’re a fine one to give advice. You started this.”
    “In that case, I hereby declare the subject closed for now.” Stark picked up a tiny slice of toast topped with an herbed cheese spread.
    “Who gave you the right to close the sub – Umph.” Desdemona broke off as Stark gently stuffed the little round of toast between her lips. She glared mutely at him while she chewed.
    She was so incensed that it took her a few seconds to realize that Stark was no longer looking at her. He was gazing at someone who had come up behind her.
    “Hello, Pamela,” Stark said very calmly. “I didn’t realize you would be here tonight.”
    “Good evening, Stark,” Pamela Bedford said quietly.
    Desdemona nearly choked on the cheese toast.
    “Desdemona.” Pamela regarded her with an air of genuine surprise. “I hadn’t realized that your firm had done the catering for this event.”
    “It didn’t.” Desdemona finally managed to get the last of the cheese toast down. She turned to face Stark’s ex-fiancee. “I’m not here in an official capacity.”
    “Desdemona is with me tonight,” Stark said.
    “Oh, I see.” Pamela smiled tremulously. There were fine lines around her mouth and an unmistakable anxiety in her blue eyes.
    She was dressed in a discreetly cut sapphire blue gown that underscored the pale gold of her hair and left her fine shoulders bare. A diamond choker circled her long neck. It matched the earrings that dripped delicately from her ears. Pamela appeared to be fashioned of spun gold, moonbeams, and pearls.
    Dressed in a narrow black gown with only a black velvet ribbon around her throat for ornament, Desdemona, still seething with irritation, felt like the bad-tempered witch of the west.
    She was acutely aware of the tension in the atmosphere. It was impossible to tell from Stark’s expression what was going through his mind.
    Pamela gave Stark a wistfully apologetic look. “I thought we’d better get this first public meeting over. We can’t go on avoiding each other forever now that we move in the same circles, can we?”
    Stark picked up another slice of cheese toast. “Hadn’t planned to avoid you forever.” He bit strongly down on the toast. “Hadn’t planned on avoiding you at all, as a matter of fact.”
    “I’m glad to hear that.” Pamela slid a sidelong glance at Desdemona. “I know I left you in a very awkward situation at the wedding.”
    “What wedding?” Stark asked.
    Pamela blushed. “I’ve been dreading this encounter. I knew it was going to be difficult.” She turned to Desdemona. “Would you excuse us for a few minutes? I think Stark and I should finish this conversation in private.”
    “Desdemona and I were just about to leave,” Stark said.
    “Nonsense,” Desdemona murmured. “You two go right ahead and chat. I believe I’ll freshen up in the ladies’ room.”
    “Desdemona,” Stark began in a warning tone.
    “I’ll be right back.” Desdemona waved cheerfully, whirled around, and plowed straight into the crowd. The throng of people closed behind her.
    Desdemona headed for the nearest ballroom door. She was less than three yards from her goal when Dane McCallum stepped into her path.
    “Fleeing the scene of the