Trust Me

soft little gasps of surprise. In retrospect he realized that he had ignored a number of small signs, all of which indicated that Desdemona was a woman of extremely limited experience.
    Damn. He never had been good at picking up subtle cues from the female of the species.
    Stark had to call on all of his willpower in order to concentrate on the drive home. No woman had ever left him feeling so bemused after sex. Always in the past he had returned immediately to his normal, clearheaded state of mind after a sexual encounter.
    For him, passion was a short-lived, very intense experience that temporarily clouded his brain in the same way a bad command scrambled a computer screen full of data.
    Usually he simply rebooted and returned to full operating mode within minutes.
    But tonight his brain was not responding to the customary prompts. Luckily it was late and the streets were nearly empty. Traffic was not a problem. Stark made it home in less than twenty minutes.
    Macbeth was waiting for him. He surveyed Stark with cool interest as he collected his leather jacket and Jeep keys. “Have a good evening?”
    “Yes,” Stark said brusquely. He had a feeling that Tony was not the only member of Desdemona’s family who felt protective toward her. “Jason and Kyle okay?”
    “No problem. We sent out for pizza and played some video games. They went to bed around ten.” Macbeth sauntered out onto the front steps. “See you in the morning.”
    “Right. Thanks.”
    Macbeth paused. “You coming to Desdemona’s birthday party next week?”
    “Yes.”
    Macbeth nodded. “Good. Bring Jason and Kyle.”
    “I will.”
    Stark closed the door and set the computerized security alarm system. He realized that he was not ready for bed. Memories of making love to Desdemona were going to make it hard to get to sleep tonight.
    He decided to do what he usually did when he was feeling restless He climbed the concrete and steel staircase to his study and switched on the computer.
    The soothing patterns of ARCANE’s intricate programming soon enveloped him. He did not look up from the screen until two small figures appeared in the shadowed doorway.
    Jason and Kyle, garbed in pajamas, stood there.
    “Thought you were asleep,” Stark said.
    “Jason woke up a few minutes ago,” Kyle said offhandedly. “He wanted to see if you were home yet.”
    “It wasn’t just me,” Jason said quickly. “You wanted to see if he was here, too.”
    “I’m here,” Stark said. “How did rehearsal go this afternoon?”
    “It went great,” Kyle grinned. “Everyone said we’re going to bring down the house.”
    “Macbeth says we’re headed for Broadway,” Jason reported.
    “Broadway in Seattle or Broadway in New York?” Stark asked.
    “I dunno.” Jason seemed unperturbed by the distinction. “Bess, that’s Macbeth’s mother – “
    “She plays one of the monsters,” Kyle explained.
    “Bess said me and Kyle were the best stagehands the Strolling Players had had in ages. She said we’re naturals.”
    “Yeah, she said they wouldn’t be able to put on the show without us,” Kyle added. “Augustus says that if we stick around long enough he’ll teach me how to work the lights. That’s what I want to do.”
    “I like setting up the scenery,” Jason said. “I’m responsible for all the trees in the show.”
    Stark nodded. “Sounds important.”
    “It is. Real important. Macbeth says the trees are part of what sets the mood for the actors and the audience. He says without the right mood, nothing else works.”
    “Mood is important,” Stark agreed.
    “The lighting is important for atmosphere,” Kyle said. “Macbeth says you use lighting to create whole worlds. He says you can do anything with the right lighting.”
    “I’ll keep that in mind,” Stark said.
    “We’re all set for our first performance on Saturday.” A flicker of anxiety briefly darkened Jason’s exuberant expression. “Are you still going to come see it like you said you would?”
    “I wouldn’t miss it,” Stark promised.
    “Something might come up,” Kyle said with studied carelessness. “Business or something.”
    “I’ll be there,” Stark said.
    Jason grinned triumphantly at Kyle. “See? I told you he wouldn’t change his mind.”

    Tony was in Desdemona’s office, fiddling with the computer when she walked in the next morning.
    “Hi kid.” He didn’t look up. “I’m redoing the format of your inventory program so that it will