Trust Me (19 page)

“Sure.” Stark shook off his annoyance. “Enough of old news. Tell me some good news.”

“The Hammercomb job,” Dane tossed a sheaf of papers onto the desk. “We got it. That's Hammercomb's signature on the contract. Stark Security Systems has just been hired to do a complete security analysis of their entire computer system and to recommend measures and strategies to protect it.”

“Nice going.” Stark pulled the papers toward him. “Very nice going. This was a big one.”

“And it will lead to other big ones.”

“Yes.”

“We're hot,” Dane said softly. “And once you finish working out the bugs in ARCANE, we are going to be even hotter.”

Stark looked up from the contract. “I guess this means we won't have to beg for our old jobs back at the Institute.”

“Are you kidding? The Institute will be coming to us one of these days. Wait and see.” Dane sprawled in his chair and regarded Stark with a considering look. “Speaking of clients, all set for the reception at your place at the end of the week?”

“As far as I know. I'm leaving everything in Desdemona's hands.”

Dane's mouth curved. “Everything?”

“Everything.”

“This is serious, isn't it?”

“What? The reception? Of course it's serious. I hate these things, but it will be good for business.”

“I'm not talking about the reception. I'm talking about you and your personal caterer. You're getting very close to her, aren't you?”

“So?”

“Watch out, pal. The last thing you need right now is another fiancée.”

Stark scowled. “I'm not engaged to her. Hell, I'm not even thinking about marriage this time around.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I'm sure.” Stark felt a curious tension in his body. “This time I'm not looking any farther ahead than the next date.”

“You're having an affair,” Dane repeated neutrally.

“Right.” Stark recalled Alison's words. “A mature, adult relationship.”

“The last time you tried to have one of those, you wound up standing alone at the altar. Don't you think it's a little too soon for you?”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“The thing is, I know you, Stark. You're a man who follows patterns. But this time you're not following your usual pattern.”

“What is my usual pattern?”

“Generally speaking, you languish in celibacy for vast stretches of time between relationships.”

“I've learned my lesson.” Stark leveled his pen in Dane's direction. “I'm going to keep this simple and uncomplicated.”

“Come off it. This is your old friend, Dane, remember? Let's have a little honesty here. Three years ago you set yourself the goal of getting married. You know how you are when you're working on a project. You just keep going until it's finished.”

“Not this time. I have officially abandoned the goal.”

Dane studied his manicured nails. “Just as well, since she's not exactly your type.”

The comment irritated Stark. “I'm well aware of that. But I don't have to worry about it. I'm going to go with the flow in this relationship.”

Dane smiled. “You? Submit to the chaotic forces of romance and unbridled passion? I'll believe that when I see it.”

“I'm not submitting to anything. I'm having a simple uncomplicated affair, and that's all there is to it.”

“You always manage to complicate things,” Dane said. “Trust me, it's your nature.”

Alone in his shadowed study that evening, Stark sat at his computer and mulled over the effect Alison's evening phone call had had on Jason and Kyle.

On the surface things appeared to have gone fairly well. The boys had taken the news of their mother's vacation with Titus in stride, just as they had accepted their father's trip to Hawaii.

“Sam?”

Stark looked toward the door. Jason stood in the shadows. He was dressed in his pajamas.

“I thought you were in bed,” Stark said.

“I was. But I couldn't sleep.”

“Probably the pizza. I warned you not to order the Garbage Truck Special.”

“It was good.” Jason wandered farther into the room. “What are you doing?”

“I'm working on a program designed to protect computer systems.”

Jason peered at the screen. “The stuff on the screen looks all scrambled up.”

“It is.” Stark punched a couple of buttons. The random characters that cluttered the screen began to reform themselves. “But underneath the surface there's a pattern. I can retrieve it with the right code.”

“Yeah?” Jason watched intently as the meaningless array of characters became two neat paragraphs. “I can read it now.”

“That's the whole point.”

“This is cool. Where did you learn how to do this stuff?”

Stark shrugged. “Most of it I taught myself.”

“Can you teach it to me?”

“If we have enough time.”

“Mom said we could stay here the whole summer. Is that enough time?”

“It's enough to get started.”

A small sound in the doorway caught Stark's attention. He glanced around again and saw Kyle.

“What are you two doing?” Kyle asked.

“I was showing Jason how my new security program works,” Stark said.

“The one you call ARCANE? I want to see, too.”

“Okay.” Stark hit a key. The screenful of data went back to its scrambled state. “ARCANE has several features. One of them is encryption. I can encode the information that I want to protect inside a lot of constantly shifting garbage.”

“Is that what you call chaos?”

“Complexity. Now, then, the secret of complex structures is that they aren't truly chaotic. They just look that way at first glance. The variables that control them are very, very subtle. Once I discover them, however, I can use them to manipulate data.”

“That stuff on the screen now looks just like the pizza we had for dinner,” Jason said.

“Exactly. It conceals the data we want to protect behind a cloud of static.” Stark pressed a few more keys. “By altering some more variables, I can retrieve the information that was hidden behind the static.”

“This is great.” Kyle looked at Stark. “Is this the kind of stuff you sell?”

“Yes.”

“If I was as good as you are on a computer, I'd invent games,” Kyle said. “Not business stuff.”

Stark smiled. “Working with ARCANE is a lot like playing a very complex video game.”

“Is it?” Jason asked.

“Sure.” Stark hit a few more keys. “I told you, ARCANE has several features. In addition to encryption and decryption it can also act like an octopus.”

“An octopus?” Jason looked intrigued.

“It has tentacles that can reach into other computers and probe network systems.”

“Sam?” Kyle kept his attention on the screen.

“Yes?”

“Mind if I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead.”

“Mom says you were about our age when Dad left you and your mother.”

Stark kept his eyes fixed on the computer. “She's right.”

“He never came back, did he? I mean, to stay.”

“No,” Stark said. “He never did come back to stay.”

“He's not coming back to stay with me and Jason, either, is he?”

“No,” Stark said. “He's not coming back. But things will be okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Trust me,” Stark said.

T
he card attached to the last birthday present read, “Happy Birthday to Desdemona from Stark.”

Desdemona glanced up from the small, neatly wrapped package. A hush descended on the private dining room at the back of the restaurant. The colorful wrappings of a half-dozen recently opened gifts, including the turquoise and silver squash blossom necklace Desdemona's parents had sent from Tucson, littered the surface of the table. Only a few crumbs from the demolished birthday cake remained of the feast.

Everyone watched Desdemona as she went to work on the last package. The crowd of Wainwrights waited with piqued curiosity to see what Stark's idea of a birthday present was. Juliet and Kirsten looked curious. Macbeth and Henry were intrigued. Tony's eyes were narrowed.

Stark, himself, had a stoic expression on his face. He was clearly prepared for his present to be hailed as an unqualified disaster. Desdemona wondered how many gifts he had given in his life. Then she wondered how many he had received. She smiled at him.

“Hurry up and open it, Desdemona,” Jason urged. “We went with Stark to buy it, and it's really neat.”

Kyle grinned eagerly. “I bet you're gonna love it.”

“I'm sure I will.” Desdemona's fingers trembled as she carefully undid the elaborate red bow.

Her first gift from Stark, she thought with a sense of wonder. Whatever it was, she would cherish it forever.

“Well? Let's have a look at it.” Augustus spoke from the far end of the table.

Desdemona gave her uncle a mocking scowl of disapproval. “I haven't even got the paper off yet.”

“Don't rush her, dear,” Bess said.

“She went through the others quick enough,” Augustus retorted. “Same way she always does. How come this one's taking so long to open?”

“Hang on a second, Uncle Augustus.” Desdemona carefully placed the bow on the table and peeled away the wrapping paper as though it were made of silk.

When she was finished she found herself holding a small box. The picture on the lid showed a flat, high-tech-looking metal object no larger than her hand. The label beneath the picture read
PDA X-1000
.

“It's beautiful,” Desdemona breathed. “It's the most beautiful PDA X-1000 I've ever seen. Thank you, Stark.”

She jumped to her feet and went around the table to give him an exuberant kiss. The stoic look vanished from his eyes.

“You like it?” he asked cautiously.

“It's gorgeous.” Desdemona opened the box and removed the object inside. She touched it lovingly. “Just what I've always wanted.”

“I knew she'd like it,” Kyle said gleefully. “I was with him when he picked it out.”

“Me, too,” Jason said. “It's one of the new wireless models.”

The majority of birthday party celebrants exchanged blank glances.

Augustus was frankly baffled. “What the devil is it?”

“It's a PDA X-1000,” Desdemona said. Lovingly, she stroked the tiny little antennalike thing on the side of the strange machine.

“What's a PDA X-1000?” Bess demanded.

“What does it do?” Juliet asked.

Desdemona pretended not to hear the questions because she had absolutely no idea what a PDA X-1000 was, let alone what it did.

Tony unwittingly came to the rescue. “PDA stands for personal digital assistant.” He leaned forward with grudging interest. “It's a very small computer that Desdemona can carry in her pocket or purse.”

“A computer?” Henry frowned. “But it doesn't have any keys.”

“You don't need keys,” Tony explained. He took the gadget from Desdemona and examined it closely. “You write text directly on the screen with this little pen that's attached to it.”

“Sam programmed it specially for Desdemona,” Jason said proudly. “It will do all sorts of things just for her.”

Desdemona removed the PDA from Tony's hand and looked at Stark. “You programmed it just for me?”

“Yes,” Stark said.

“How thoughtful. What special things will it do?”

Stark took the small computer from her. “You can send and receive e-mail, for one thing. As Jason said, it's a wireless model. You don't need to hook up to a telephone jack or a computer.”

“I've always wanted to be able to send e-mail,” Desdemona said.

Tony glared at her. “I installed an e-mail package on your office computer. You've never used it.”

“My office computer is too big to carry around with me,” Desdemona pointed out.

Tony smoldered. Everyone ignored him. They were too busy watching Stark demonstrate the PDA.

“You can use a PDA to make notes when you're on a jobsite,” Stark explained. “Or to do estimates and cost calculations. It's got a graphics package, too, so you can sketch a buffet layout.”

“That's wonderful,” Desdemona said.

“It translates your handwriting into typewritten characters on the display.” Stark handed her the pen. “Here, try it.”

Desdemona gingerly took the tiny computer from him and concentrated intently on learning how to use it. Jason, Kyle, and the Wainwrights gathered around her.

“Can I try it out?” Henry asked.

Macbeth inched his chair closer to Desdemona. “Let me give it a whirl.”

“No one but Desdemona should use it,” Stark said, his gaze on Desdemona as she bent intently over the PDA. “It's a very personal kind of computer. It will learn her handwriting and her work habits. The more she uses it, the more efficient it will become. After a while it will be almost attuned to her.”

“I've been wanting a pet of some kind,” Desdemona said happily.

Several days later, Desdemona, garbed in a white apron and a hair net, stood at the center island in Stark's kitchen and issued orders in the manner of a general preparing for battle.

“Juliet, don't forget the chilled asparagus spears and the lemon sauce. Aunt Bess, have you got the cheese tray ready?”

“All set,” Bess said. “Goat, sheep, and cow.”

“Where're Henry and Vernon?” Desdemona glanced out the window into the drive that wound behind the garden. “They should be here with the van by now.”

“Relax, dear,” Aunt Bess said. “They'll be here by curtain time.”

Juliet removed the tray of asparagus spears from the refrigerator. “Where do you want these, Desdemona?”

Desdemona took her PDA out of her apron pocket and checked the placement chart she had sketched on it. “The table behind the sofa in the living room.”

“Got it.” Juliet started toward the kitchen door.

Stark emerged from the hall and stepped straight into her path. He was dressed in an expensive dark suit, a brilliant white shirt, and a silk tie. “How is everything going in here?”

“Everything is just fine,” Desdemona assured him. “We're on schedule, so don't get nervous. I don't have time to soothe a case of stage fright.”

“I'm not nervous.” He sounded disgusted.

“I'm delighted to hear that.”

“But I'll be glad when this is over,” Stark muttered. “I'd rather have gone to that science fiction film with Macbeth and Jason and Kyle. Does this tie look straight?”

Desdemona glanced over her shoulder. “Yes, it looks perfectly straight. Go on out to the living room and read a magazine or something. We've got another half hour before the guests start to arrive.”

Stark frowned. “I'll wait upstairs in my study.”

“Whatever. Just get out of here. Let us pros do our job.”

“Are you sure there isn't something I should be doing?”

“I'm sure.”

With a last, uncertain glance around the busy kitchen, Stark reluctantly withdrew.

Bess chuckled as he disappeared. “You'd think he was about to open on Broadway.”

“In a lot of ways this reception is just as crucial to him. This is a major event. Some of his most important clients will be here.” Desdemona heard a knock at the kitchen door. “That must be Henry and Vernon. Thank goodness.”

She hurried over to the door and opened it. “I was beginning to wonder what had happened to you two.” She broke off as she saw who was standing next to Vernon. “
Tony
. What are you doing here? I didn't schedule you for this evening.”

Desdemona had prudently decided to avoid using Tony on any of the events that Right Touch handled for Stark Security Systems. It was clear that both men were unaccountably irritated by the mere sight of each other. There was tension in the air whenever Stark and Tony were in the same room. The night of her birthday party neither had spoken directly to the other, although both had been superficially polite.

“Sorry, kid.” Tony smiled derisively over the top of a carton of wineglasses. “Henry got held up at rehearsal. Don't worry, I'll try to keep out of Stark's sight. Wouldn't want to upset Super Client.”

Desdemona stifled a groan. “Try not to do that, will you? He's already nervous enough about this evening.” There was no getting around the fact that Stark would not be pleased to see Tony here, but it couldn't be helped.

“Where do you want these glasses?” Tony asked.

“Put them on the counter and unpack them for me.” Desdemona looked at Vernon. “Where are the ice sculptures?”

“In the van. Thought I'd find out where you want them placed before I unload them.”

Desdemona consulted her computer sketch again and then slipped the PDA back into the pocket of her apron. “Follow me and I'll show you. Aunt Bess, did you find the toothpicks?”

“Got them right here.” Bess held up a small carton. “Tony can help me insert them into the shrimp.”

“Sure,” Tony said.

Stark reappeared in the doorway. “Desdemona, what about the sparkling water supply? Have we got enough?” He broke off abruptly when he caught sight of Tony. His gaze hardened. “What are you doing here?”

“I'm working for Desdemona, just like everyone else,” Tony said in a voice laced with swaggering challenge. “Got a problem with that?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, that's too damn bad, isn't it?”

Desdemona moved quickly to forestall trouble. “Stark, Henry's been delayed. Tony is filling in for him. Don't worry about the sparkling water. We've got enough to float a battleship.”

Three hours later Stark had forgotten all about his earlier anxiety over the sparkling water. He had even managed to ignore Tony's presence in the kitchen. The reception was a flawless performance. Once again Desdemona had magically transformed him into a social success.

He had a house full of happy clients. Their spouses and companions seemed to be enjoying themselves. A pleasant hubbub of conversation rose above the Mozart concerto that played discreetly in the background.

People exclaimed over the food. The ice sculpture on the center buffet table sparkled. Augustus, aristocratic in black and white formal attire, was doing a fine job of entertaining everyone who stepped up to the bar for wine or seltzer. From the snippets of conversation Stark had overheard, he gathered that Desdemona's uncle was regaling people with tales of his past experiences in the theater.

Desdemona had saved his social hide once again, Stark thought. Knowing that gave him the confidence to move among his guests with some degree of ease. He recalled Desdemona's advice on how to answer questions. Few people wanted extended, in-depth answers, she had said.

The trick was to sound knowledgeable but not pedantic.

“…Most of the concepts are derived from information theory,” he said in response to an inquiry about the nature of complexity. He stopped himself before he could launch into a more detailed explanation. “But I won't bore you with a long discussion of it tonight. Tell you what, my staff has prepared some short papers on how the new concepts are being applied to computer security. I'll have some sent to your office….”

“…Encryption is one of the obvious applications of complexity, but there are others. Some of the most interesting will be in medicine and meteorology.” Easy smile. Share the intellectual humor here. “You know how unpredictable the weather is. Talk about a complex structure….”

To Stark's surprise, he actually got a chuckle from that one.

“…The term
information highway
is just a catchphrase to describe the linking of a lot of the major computer networks which already exist.” Pause to look thoughtfully concerned. “There are some serious implications for business as well as government, of course. Privacy and security issues involved, you know…”

Out of the corner of his eye, Stark caught Desdemona's approving smile. He turned his head as she brushed past him on her way back to the kitchen.

“How am I doing?” he asked softly.

“You're doing great. A natural. You should have gone on the stage. Break a leg.” She hurried away.

Stark studied the way in which her sleek black dress skimmed her shapely hips. She was definitely the most interesting woman in the room. No, he thought, conscious of the pleasant throb in his lower body, make that the sexiest woman in the room.

It was good to have her here, he realized. Not only because she made this social stuff fly, but because he did not feel so alone in this crowd.