Trust Me

apologize right now.”
    “No good. You don’t mean it.”
    “Desdemona?”
    “Yes?”
    “What would it take for you to acknowledge that your stepbrother tried to rip me off last night?”
    “Overwhelming proof, and you can’t supply that, Stark, because it doesn’t exist. I’ve known Tony since I was five years old, and he’s not a thief.”
    “You can’t get past the fact that he once saved your life, can you?” Stark asked quietly. “What did he do? Rescue you from a swimming pool?”
    “No.”
    “Whatever it was, you’ve cast Tony in the role of hero, and you can’t believe he might not still be one.”
    Desdemona glanced at her watch. “Look, I’ve got to run. Have we got a deal?”
    “Desdemona, this is crazy.”
    “It’s business. What’s your answer?”
    “I’ll think about it and get back to you,” Stark muttered.
    “You do that. But don’t take too long to make up your mind.”
    “Why not?”
    “The trail will get cold. If you dawdle, I’ll have to find another security expert.”
    “Is that a threat?”
    “Yes, it is. You can call me here before ten with your decision. If you dither around until after ten – “
    “I do not dither,” he said ominously. “I think things through carefully before I act.”
    “Yes, well, if you think things through until after ten, you can reach me at Exotica Erotica later this afternoon. I’m catering the grand opening. Bye, Stark.”
    “Hell.”
    Desdemona hung up the phone. She perched on the corner of her desk and nervously swung one foot as she considered what she had just done. A shiver of dread went through her.
    She reminded herself that she was a Wainwright. Wainwrights were theater people. Risk-takers by definition. Only a true gambler would stake everything on a career in front of the footlights.
    The curtain had just been raised in a new drama that featured herself and Stark. She was stepping out on stage with an unseen script and an unpredictable leading man. There was no knowing how the play would end.
    There were so many things that could go wrong. Stark might never call back. Or he might accept her offer to investigate and come to the same false conclusion that he had reached last night. He was, after all, a very stubborn man. A real linear thinker. A man who trusted only what he could see, hear, or touch.
    The door of the office opened. Tony slouched into the room wearing an artificially beat-up leather jacket and black jeans. A young Marlon Brando, sullen and vengeful.
    “I just talked to Aunt Bess and Juliet.” Tony propped one shoulder against the wall. “They said you’re trying to hire that bastard, Stark, to prove himself wrong.”
    “Yes, I am.”
    “That’s stupid. Why the hell would he want to prove I’m innocent? He hates my guts.”
    Desdemona contemplated that. “I don’t think so. But I will admit he’s not exactly the trusting sort.”
    “Then why bother with him? Cut your losses, kid. The jerk isn’t for you. He can’t prove a damn thing against me, so he’s not going to press charges. We’ve got nothing to worry about. Walk away from him.”
    “I can’t,” Desdemona said quietly. “I’m in love with him.”
    “Shit.” Tony straightened away from the wall. “You’re going to be sorry you ever got involved with him. Trust me, a guy like that will turn on you in a second.”
    “He won’t turn on me.”
    “Are you kidding? If he ever decides that you’re directly involved in what happened last night, not just my innocent, gullible victim, he’ll tear you to pieces.”
    Desdemona stopped swinging her foot. She gazed at Tony, unable to think of anything to say. She had an uneasy feeling that he was right.

    Dane closed the menu and set it aside. He glanced around the crowded downtown restaurant with a practiced eye. Stark knew that he was checking to see if there were any clients, past, present, or future, in sight. Dane always kept an eye on business.
    When Dane had finished the automatic survey he regarded Stark with wry amusement. “I hate to be the one to bring this up, but has it escaped your attention that Miss Wainwright might be in this up to her cute little ears?”
    Stark’s fingers tightened around the menu. He had invited Dane to join him for lunch today because he wanted to discuss the bizarre situation in which he found himself. He was not very hungry, however. He wondered if the overly sweetened breakfast cereal he had ingested might have destroyed his entire