Trust Me

sake. Wainwrights always marry theater people.”
    The door opened behind her. Pamela walked into the rest room. Desdemona met her eyes in the mirror.
    “Am I interrupting anything?” Pamela asked gently.
    “No. I was just talking to myself.” Desdemona sank slowly back down onto the stool.
    “I thought I might find you in here.” Pamela came forward, her eyes never leaving Desdemona’s in the mirror. “Stark is looking for you.”
    Desdemona drew a deep breath. “Did you two finish your conversation?”
    “I don’t know if you could call it a conversation.” Pamela smiled wryly. “It was a little too one-sided for that. Rather like carrying on a dialogue with a computer.”
    “Don’t say that,” Desdemona whispered.
    “Why not? It’s the truth. I apologized, Stark said forget it. I told him that I felt we had never really learned to communicate, Stark said forget it. I explained that I wished things could have been different, Stark said forget it. I tried to tell him… well, you get the picture.”
    “Forget it.”
    “Exactly.” The skirts of Pamela’s sapphire gown rustled softly as she settled on the neighboring stool. “But at least it’s over. I’ve been dreading this scene ever since I left that note the day of the wedding. We were bound to run into each other sooner or later.”
    “Yes.”
    “Tonight I realized almost immediately that I was the only one who had worked up a serious case of nerves over the encounter.” Pamela grimaced. “I do believe Stark had trouble recalling my name, let alone the fact that we were once engaged.”
    “Of course he knew who you were.”
    “I’m not so certain of that. I think he’d already filed me away in some remote computer archive along with the rest of the obsolete and outdated programs. He’s a strange man.”
    “He doesn’t allow his emotions to show.”
    “I used to believe that was the case. But about one month before the wedding I finally decided that the reason he didn’t show his emotions was that he didn’t have any.” Pamela hesitated. “I have no right to ask this, but do you mind telling me how you and he got together?”
    “Business.”
    Pamela’s fine brow furrowed slightly. “I don’t understand.”
    “Business brought us together. You stuck him with the tab for the wedding reception, remember? I had to break the bad news to him that just because there was no wedding it didn’t mean that the caterer didn’t get paid.”
    “Yes, of course.” Pamela flushed. “I’m sorry. I forgot all about the aspect of the thing.”
    “Everybody forgets the caterer. You probably had a lot on your mind.”
    “There’s no need to be rude. I was very upset at the time. It was an extremely traumatic event for me. And then there were my parents to deal with. They were mortified, and I felt so guilty. You have no idea.”
    “Yes, well, life goes on, doesn’t it?” Desdemona got to her feet. “Excuse me. I’d better go find Stark. He’ll be wondering where I am.”
    “Probably. He said something about wanting to leave. He doesn’t enjoy social affairs, you know.”
    “I know.”
    “I think that was one of the reasons he decided to marry me.” Pamela’s dainty jaw tightened. “He wanted a permanent social secretary and hostess.”
    “That’s nonsense.”
    “No, it’s not.” Pamela reached for a tissue and sniffed delicately into it. “I can hardly complain. One of the reasons I got involved with him in the first place was because Daddy insisted that I be nice to him.”
    Desdemona stilled. “I don’t understand.”
    Pamela burst into tears. “Daddy said that Stark is doing very well these days, but in a few years he’ll be worth an absolute fortune. And Daddy’s had some financial difficulties lately. The blue chips aren’t what they used to be, you know and, oh, God, I shouldn’t be talking about any of this.”
    “No, probably not.”
    “It’s a private family matter.”
    “Sounds like it.”
    Pamela raised a stricken face. “Promise me you’ll never breathe a word about this to anyone. Mother and Daddy would just die.”
    “Trust me, I wouldn’t dream of it.” Desdemona had no intention of ever telling Stark that he had almost been married for his potential earning power.
    Perhaps he had sensed that possibility right from the start, she reflected. There had been that business with the prenuptial agreement, after all.
    “It wasn’t just the money,” Pamela went on quietly. “Daddy said