Trust Me

him.
    Tony appeared, stuffing a cracker loaded with dip into his mouth. He glared at Stark over Desdemona’s head. “Just what do you think he’ll find, kid? Even if he does decide that someone else had an equally good motive and opportunity, he won’t give a damn. He’ll still believe that I did it. Nothing is going to change his mind because he doesn’t want to change it.”
    “That’s not true.” Desdemona straightened the black satin lapels of her tuxedo jacket as she stepped back from Stark. “Once he starts looking at other suspects, he’ll find the real thief. I know he will.”
    “Bullshit. He’ll pretend to do some sort of superficial investigation because he knows you won’t let him sleep with you if he doesn’t at least act like he’s doing something.”
    “That’s enough, Tony,” Desdemona said very tightly. Red flags appeared in her cheeks, but her eyes were steady and her chin was firm.
    Tony’s mouth tightened. “What if, after his phony investigation, he tells you that I’m definitely the one who tried to get at his precious hard disk? What will you do then?”
    “It’ll never happen,” she assured him.
    “Don’t be too sure of that. Tell me, kid, what will you do if your android lover decides that you’re involved, too? That we’re all involved?”
    Desdemona’s flush deepened. “Tony, stop it.”
    Stark eyed Tony with some interest for the first time. He recalled the conversation he’d had with Dane over lunch. The concept of the Wainwrights as a crime family was hard to swallow, but it was not at all difficult to envision young Tony as a member of what had once been termed the criminal class.
    “I don’t want to hear any more of this,” Desdemona said brusquely. “You’re spoiling my whole afternoon.”
    “My day isn’t going so good, either.” Tony smiled thinly. “Like they say in Hollywood, I’ve got a hot concept for you.”
    “What concept?” Desdemona asked.
    “Try this, kid. There never was any attempted theft.”
    Desdemona frowned. “What are you saying?”
    “That Stark faked the whole thing.” Tony shrugged. “That no one tried to get inside his damned computer. That Stark invented the story.”
    “That’s ridiculous.” Desdemona’s eyes widened in shock. “Why on earth would he do such a thing?”
    “To get me out of the picture,” Tony said softly. “He wants you all to himself, kid. He doesn’t like the idea of sharing you. And he thinks he’s found a way to get rid of the competition.”
    “Tony,” Desdemona sounded desperate. “Shut up.”
    “Don’t let him turn you against your family, Desdemona,” Tony said. “Remember, you’re a Wainwright. The only thing Wainwrights have ever been able to count on is each other.”
    He turned on his heel and walked out of the shop.
    Stark watched him leave. “You know something? I’m getting real tired of his exit scenes.”
    “Never mind him. He’s under a lot of stress.” Desdemona grabbed Stark’s hand and led him toward the buffet table. “Have some food. Doesn’t the shop look terrific?”
    Stark studied a display of condom packages artfully arranged amid a bed of artificial flowers. “It’s different, I’ll say that for it.”
    “And look at the size of the crowd.”
    “Desdemona, I’d like to talk to you for a few minutes.”
    “Okay.” She picked up a small circle of toast layered with some sort of purple-gray spread. “Want some eggplant?”
    “I don’t have a lot of time.” He glanced at his watch. “Kyle and Jason will be home soon. I have to fix an early dinner. I told them I’d take them to my gym later.”
    “The gym?”
    “I’m going to see that they get some exercise this summer.” He shrugged. “They’re both a little scrawny.”
    “What are you planning to fix for dinner?”
    “For dinner? Damned if I know. Maybe I’ll send out for pizza again.”
    “I’m starting to worry about your diet, Stark.”
    “You and me both. Personally I’ve had enough pizza to last a lifetime, but Kyle and Jason are addicted to it. Desdemona, will you step outside for a few minutes? I want to talk to you in private.”
    She gave him a sidelong glance, as if trying to assess his intentions. “All right.”
    Stark took her arm and turned her toward the door. Before he could reach it, Ian Ivers bounced into his path.
    Ian looked very much the same as he had the first time Stark had met him. He was wearing stylishly full taupe trousers and a silk shirt