Trust Me

does seem to make a business deal out of a marriage, doesn’t it? But that’s neither here nor there. You’ll be glad to know that the champagne can be returned to the supplier. I’ve deducted the amount from the total, as you can see.”
    “What’s wrong with treating marriage as a business deal? We’re talking about a major financial commitment here, not some short-term affair. It’s an investment, and it should be handled like one.”
    Desdemona wished she had kept her mouth shut. It was obvious that Stark had been looking for a target, and she had made the mistake of providing him with one. She hastily tried to backpedal.
    “Right. A serious business,” Desdemona said.
    “Damn right. I thought Pamela understood that.” Stark paced back to his desk and threw himself down into his chair. Amazingly enough, the chair did not so much as squeak beneath his not inconsiderable weight. Stark did not glance at the invoice. “I thought I’d made a good choice this time. She seemed so stable. So sensible. Not one of those temperamental, emotional types who drive a man crazy with one scene of psychodrama after another.”
    Desdemona arched a brow. “I don’t know about that. I’d say Miss Bedford has a nice touch when it comes to dramatic scenes. Abandoning a man at the altar is definitely a colorful way to stage an exit.”
    Stark ignored the comment. “Her father and I got along well. Stark Security Systems did a job for his company last fall. That was how I met Pamela.”
    “I see.” Desdemona knew that Stark’s extremely successful computer security consulting firm was rapidly becoming the premier company of its type in the region.
    Stark Security Systems advised many of the largest Northwest businesses on matters ranging from computer security issues to corporate espionage. Word had it that Stark, who had started with nothing three years ago, was now, at the age of thirty-four, as wealthy as many of his clients.
    “I had every reason to assume that Pamela wasn’t a silly, starry-eyed romantic. She was well educated. She came across as calm and rational.” Stark drained the last of the brandy in a single swallow. His green eyes narrowed dangerously. “I’m beginning to believe that I was deliberately misled.”
    “I’m sure it was all a terrible misunderstanding.”
    “No, she misled me, all right. Made me think she was a reasonable, levelheaded female. She never said a word when we discussed the prenuptial agreement in my lawyer’s office.”
    “Maybe it took her a while to get over the shock.”
    “What shock?” Stark glowered. “She knew all along that I planned to have a contract. Only reasonable thing to do under the circumstances.”
    “Sure. Right. Only reasonable thing.” Desdemona eyed the empty glass that was positioned near Stark’s big hand. Perhaps a little more brandy would get him past the surly stage.
    “You’re a businesswoman, Miss Wainwright. You understand why I wanted a prenuptial agreement, don’t you?”
    “To be perfectly honest, I haven’t given the subject of prenuptial agreements a lot of thought.”
    “Never been married?”
    “No. Now, I’ll be able to donate some of the food to a homeless shelter, and my staff will eat some of the rest, but – “
    “Neither have I. I didn’t think I was asking for too much.”
    Desdemona got to her feet, seized the brandy bottle sitting on the corner of the desk, and leaned over to refill Stark’s glass.
    “Thanks,” he muttered.
    “You’re welcome.” Desdemona moved a pen a smidgen closer to his hand before she sat down. “I suppose prenuptial agreements do make sense. Sort of like having a catering contract for a wedding reception.”
    “Exactly.” He looked morosely pleased by her perceptive response. “A business contract.”
    “Speaking of business contracts, Mr. Stark – “
    “Logical, reasonable things, contracts. Lord knows, wedding vows don’t amount to much these days. But a business agreement, now, that’s something you can hold in your hand.” Stark made a broad fist. “Something you can see. A business agreement has substance. It has teeth. A business agreement is binding.”
    “It certainly is. You’ll notice that the business agreement in front of you was signed and dated by Miss Bedford, who made it very clear that you were going to cover the expenses for the reception.”
    Stark looked at her, really looked at her, for the first time. “What the hell are you talking