the list in her hand. “You're hosting cocktail parties and buffets following each of the seminars on computer security that we're putting on once a month. The first is in two weeks. There are three receptions for various clients and corporate officers scheduled, a couple of charity events—”
“ Charity events .” Stark glowered at her. “What do charity events have to do with business?”
Dane stirred in his chair. “Those are the kind of events where you mingle with the movers and shakers, Stark. It's where business contacts are made. Pamela knew that. It was why she put them on your schedule.”
“Damn.” Stark took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Give me a minute to think.”
Maud fell silent. Dane waited expectantly.
Inspiration struck. Stark slowly replaced his glasses. “What I need is a professional.”
Maud tilted her head to one side. “A professional?”
“Yes.” Stark opened a desk drawer and pulled out a folder full of business cards. He slipped Desdemona's out of the plastic envelope. “Give the owner of this firm a call. Tell her what we need. See if she'll commit to a contract to handle all of Stark Security Systems' social events for the next quarter. We'll need her to cater and act as hostess at the events.”
Maud walked to the desk and squinted at the card. “Right Touch Catering Services. Got it.”
Dane's brows rose. “That's the firm that handled your wedding, isn't it?”
“My nonwedding.”
“A professional caterer under contract to us,” Dane mused. “Not a bad idea.”
“Thank you,” Stark said. He was suddenly unaccountably pleased with himself. “I should have thought of this days ago.”
Dane smiled. “You always were the brains of the outfit.”
Maud beamed. “When life give you lemons…”
The door of Desdemona's glass-walled office slammed open shortly after ten on Monday morning. Rafael Crumpton, ice sculptor and part-time server, struck a dramatic pose.
He was dressed in the pristine white uniform and cap that all of Desdemona's employees were required to wear when on duty in the firm's kitchens.
“Desdemona, I don't know how to tell you this, but I must leave you. Please don't hate me.”
Desdemona frowned. “Where are you going?”
“I must follow my destiny. I told you when I took this job that I was meant for bigger and better things. I know that it will be difficult for you to go on without me, but you will survive. You're strong, Desdemona.”
“Rafael, close the door, sit down, and tell me what's going on.”
Rafael straightened, shut the door, and dropped into the chair on the other side of Desdemona's desk. “I've got a new job.”
Desdemona groaned. “Oh, damn.”
“I'm going to the Fountains, the new hotel in Bellevue.”
Desdemona was stunned. “You're going to leave me for a hotel job on the Eastside? For crying out loud, Rafael, you'll be doing ice carvings for Sunday brunches. You call that destiny?”
Rafael gave her a mournful look. “I knew you would take this hard. It wasn't an easy decision, Desdemona. But I've been promised complete artistic freedom.” He spread his hands. “How could I refuse?”
“This is all because I made you do those swans for the Stark-Bedford wedding, isn't it? You're still in a snit because I wouldn't let you sculpt your own designs.”
“My designs were exquisite,” Rafael retorted. “I took my inspiration from the Kama Sutra . They were perfectly suited to a wedding banquet.”
“Rafael, be honest. Don't you think a series of ice sculptures featuring naked couples in various sexual positions would have been just a tad much for the buffet table of a formal wedding?”
“My designs were a superb realization of wedding-night ecstasy.”
“What would you know about wedding-night ecstasy? You've never been married. In any event the Stark-Bedford reception was a very classy affair. Your sculptures would have shocked the guests.”
Rafael gave her a
“ Charity events .” Stark glowered at her. “What do charity events have to do with business?”
Dane stirred in his chair. “Those are the kind of events where you mingle with the movers and shakers, Stark. It's where business contacts are made. Pamela knew that. It was why she put them on your schedule.”
“Damn.” Stark took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Give me a minute to think.”
Maud fell silent. Dane waited expectantly.
Inspiration struck. Stark slowly replaced his glasses. “What I need is a professional.”
Maud tilted her head to one side. “A professional?”
“Yes.” Stark opened a desk drawer and pulled out a folder full of business cards. He slipped Desdemona's out of the plastic envelope. “Give the owner of this firm a call. Tell her what we need. See if she'll commit to a contract to handle all of Stark Security Systems' social events for the next quarter. We'll need her to cater and act as hostess at the events.”
Maud walked to the desk and squinted at the card. “Right Touch Catering Services. Got it.”
Dane's brows rose. “That's the firm that handled your wedding, isn't it?”
“My nonwedding.”
“A professional caterer under contract to us,” Dane mused. “Not a bad idea.”
“Thank you,” Stark said. He was suddenly unaccountably pleased with himself. “I should have thought of this days ago.”
Dane smiled. “You always were the brains of the outfit.”
Maud beamed. “When life give you lemons…”
The door of Desdemona's glass-walled office slammed open shortly after ten on Monday morning. Rafael Crumpton, ice sculptor and part-time server, struck a dramatic pose.
He was dressed in the pristine white uniform and cap that all of Desdemona's employees were required to wear when on duty in the firm's kitchens.
“Desdemona, I don't know how to tell you this, but I must leave you. Please don't hate me.”
Desdemona frowned. “Where are you going?”
“I must follow my destiny. I told you when I took this job that I was meant for bigger and better things. I know that it will be difficult for you to go on without me, but you will survive. You're strong, Desdemona.”
“Rafael, close the door, sit down, and tell me what's going on.”
Rafael straightened, shut the door, and dropped into the chair on the other side of Desdemona's desk. “I've got a new job.”
Desdemona groaned. “Oh, damn.”
“I'm going to the Fountains, the new hotel in Bellevue.”
Desdemona was stunned. “You're going to leave me for a hotel job on the Eastside? For crying out loud, Rafael, you'll be doing ice carvings for Sunday brunches. You call that destiny?”
Rafael gave her a mournful look. “I knew you would take this hard. It wasn't an easy decision, Desdemona. But I've been promised complete artistic freedom.” He spread his hands. “How could I refuse?”
“This is all because I made you do those swans for the Stark-Bedford wedding, isn't it? You're still in a snit because I wouldn't let you sculpt your own designs.”
“My designs were exquisite,” Rafael retorted. “I took my inspiration from the Kama Sutra . They were perfectly suited to a wedding banquet.”
“Rafael, be honest. Don't you think a series of ice sculptures featuring naked couples in various sexual positions would have been just a tad much for the buffet table of a formal wedding?”
“My designs were a superb realization of wedding-night ecstasy.”
“What would you know about wedding-night ecstasy? You've never been married. In any event the Stark-Bedford reception was a very classy affair. Your sculptures would have shocked the guests.”
Rafael gave her a
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