Dawn in Eclipse Bay

chapter 12

A deceptively bright sun supplied light but very little heat to Eclipse Bay. Small whitecaps snapped and sparkled on the water. The brisk breeze promised another storm soon. They drove through the community’s small business district on the way back to the cottage. Lillian noticed that the handful of men standing around a truck at the town’s only gas station were huddled into goose-down vests and heavy windbreakers.

Sandy Hickson, the owner of the station, spotted Gabe’s car and waved a casual greeting. His companions turned to glance at the vehicle. Even from where she sat, Lillian thought she could see the open speculation in their eyes.

A Harte and a Madison could not even drive through Eclipse Bay together without drawing interested gazes.

“Small town,” Gabe said. He sounded completely unruffled by the attention.

“Very.”

“Not like there’s a heck of a lot to do around here in the middle of winter. It’s almost like we’ve got a social obligation to bring a little excitement to town.”

“Since when did Madisons worry about their social obligations?”

“Since we started hanging out more with you Hartes. You’re a bad influence on us.”

She noticed the illuminated message indicator on the answering machine when she walked into the Harte family cottage a short time later.

Gabe saw it too. “Got a hunch Mitchell ratted us out.”

“Looks that way. Probably my mother. Great.” She put down the carton of painting supplies she had carried in from the car. “I’ll deal with it later.”

“Thought you said your folks were on a business trip in San Diego.”

“They are. But you know as well as I do that gossip travels fast among the Hartes and the Madisons, especially since the wedding.”

“Well, we both knew we wouldn’t be able to keep this a secret. And it’s not as if we’re not all adults here.”

He sounded a little too philosophical, she thought. Downright upbeat, in fact. As if the prospect of explaining away a red-hot affair between a Harte and a Madison was no big deal. Just a walk in the park.

“Yeah, right,” she said. “We’re all adults here.”

He set her suitcase in the hall and looked at her, brows raised in polite inquiry. “Need backup?”

“From a Madison? That would be like pouring oil on a burning fire.”

“We Madisons are good at that.”

“I’ll remember that the next time I’m trying to start a blaze instead of putting one out.”

“This is going to be a tough fire to put out,” he said softly.

She did not know if she ought to take that as a warning or just another teasing remark. Upon brief reflection, she decided it would be best to assume the latter.

“I’m an adult,” she said. “I make my own decisions. My parents know that.”

“Uh-huh.” He looked unconvinced but he turned to walk toward the door. “Well, if you don’t need my assistance in pacifying your mother, I’ll be on my way. See you for dinner.”

He said it with such breathtaking casualness, she thought. Taking the concept of dinner together for granted. The unspoken expectation of spending the night was very clear. He was moving right into her daily routine, making himself comfortable.

Well? They had both agreed that they were starting an affair, hadn’t they? Why the sudden qualms?

But the answer was there in the next heartbeat. For all her fine talk of being a grown-up, the bottom line here was that getting involved with Gabe was a dangerous business.

“Why don’t we go out tonight?” she said on sudden impulse.

Dining out in public would be more like a date. She could handle a date with him. Dates were more structured, more ritualized. They were not infused with quite the same degree of casual intimacy as cooking dinner together and eating it at the kitchen table. A date allowed her to keep a little distance. So what if they went back to his place later and made wild, passionate love. Some people did that after a date. Or so she had heard.

“Fine.”

Something told her that he had guessed what was going through her mind. But he did not argue. Instead, he walked out onto the porch.

“I’ll pick you up. Six-thirty okay?”

“I can meet you at your place.” She went to stand in the doorway. “It’s a short walk.”

“No. It’ll be dark. I don’t want you walking alone after dark.”

“There’s nothing to worry about. We’re not exactly crime central around here. Especially in the dead of winter.”

“Eclipse Bay isn’t the same town it was when you and I were kids. It’s not just the summer tourists who cause trouble around here now. Chamberlain College is expanding and so is the institute. I’d rather you didn’t stroll around on your own after the sun goes down.”

She propped one shoulder against the door frame, amused, and crossed her arms. “Are you always this bossy?”

“I’m cautious, not bossy.”

“And maybe a tad inclined to be overcontrolling?”

“Sure, but hey, isn’t everyone?” He brushed his mouth across hers. “Humor me, okay?”

“Okay. This time.”

He nodded, satisfied and went down the steps. “See you later. Good luck with your painting.”

“What are you going to do this afternoon?”

He paused and looked back over his shoulder. “I’m going to go online to do some deep background research on a potential Madison Commercial client. Why?”

She made a face. “Have fun.”

“I thought I explained to you that what I do at M.C. is called work, not fun.” He gave her his slow, sexy Madison smile. “Fun comes later, after work. I’ll show you.”

He walked to the Jag, opened the door and got behind the wheel.

Back at the beginning she had made the mistake of assuming that he was a victim of burnout because he claimed that running Madison Commercial was not fun for him. In one sense, she thought, he was right. But work wasn’t the correct label, either, although it was the one he preferred. The truth was, Madison Commercial was his passion.

Passion wasn’t fun. Passion was serious stuff.

She had always understood that distinction intuitively when it came to her painting. Now she was starting to understand it about her relationship with Gabe, as well. Serious stuff.

She went back into the house, closed the door and crossed to the phone to listen to her messages. There were two, she noticed. The first was, as she had expected, from her mother.

Might as well get this over with fast. She braced herself and dialed the number of the hotel room in San Diego.

We’re all adults here.

Elaine Harte answered on the second ring. In typical maternal fashion, she did not take long to come to the point.

“What in the world is going on up there in Eclipse Bay?” she asked without preamble.

“Long story.”

“Your grandfather phoned yesterday. He and your father talked for a very long time. It was not what anyone would call a cheerful, lighthearted conversation. I haven’t heard those two go at it like that in years. Sullivan says that you’ve closed Private Arrangements for good. Is that true?”

“Yes.”

“But, darling, why?” Elaine’s voice rose in that practiced wail of dismay that is unique to mothers around the world. “You were doing so well.”

Elaine did not actually addat last but it was there, silently tacked on to the end of the sentence.

“You know why, Mom.”

There was a short silence, then Elaine sighed.

“Your painting,” she said.

The whining tone had vanished from her voice as if by magic, Lillian noticed. Smart moms also knew when to abandon a tactic that no longer worked.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, Mom. I need to see if I can make it happen.”

“Can’t you keep Private Arrangements going while you find out if you can make a living with art? You’ve always painted in the evenings and on weekends.”

Lillian flopped down on the sofa and stacked her heels on the coffee table. “I feel that the time has come to put my art at the top of my agenda. I need to concentrate on it. The fact is, after a full day at Private Arrangements, I’m tired, Mom. I don’t have a lot of energy left for my work.”

Mywork. She was using the word, herself, she realized, mildly astonished. The same way Gabe used it, to describe the important thing that she did. Painting wasn’t a hobby. It wasn’t fun. It wasn’t entertainment. It was her passion.

“And if the painting doesn’t go well?” Elaine said. “Will you reopen Private Arrangements? You still have your program and your client list, don’t you?”

“I can’t think about that now, Mom. I have to stay focused.”

“You sound just like your father and your grandfather when you say things like that.” Elaine hesitated and then probed further. “Sullivan told your father something else. He said that you and Gabe Madison are seeing each other… socially.”

Lillian laughed in spite of tension. “I’ll bet he said a lot more than that.”

Elaine cleared her throat. “I believe he used the phrase ‘shacking up together.’ ”

“Iknew it.” Lillian took her heels off the table and sat up on the edge of the sofa. “Mitchell Madison did squeal to Granddad. Interesting that he went straight to Sullivan with the news, isn’t it? I wonder why he did that.”

There was another brief pause.

“So it’s true?” Elaine asked, her voice grim.

“Afraid so.” Lillian hunched around the phone in her hand. “But I prefer the phrase ‘seeing each other socially’ to ‘shacking up together.’ ”

“Men of Mitchell’s and Sullivan’s age have a different view of these matters. And a different vocabulary to describe them.”

“Guess so.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, how does Gabe describe your, uh, relationship?”

We’re all adults here.

“I haven’t actually asked him that question. Not in so many words. Look, Mom, I know you mean well, but this conversation is getting a bit personal. I’m perfectly capable of handling my own private life.”

“When Hartes and Madisons get together in Eclipse Bay, there is no such thing as a private life,” Elaine said.

“Okay, I’ll give you that. But I’m still capable of dealing with things here.”

“You’re sure?”

“Of course, I’m sure. Mom, I’m not in high school anymore. Or even college, for that matter. I’ve been getting by out there in the big bad world all on my own for quite a while now.”

“You haven’t had to deal with the complications of having a Madison in your life.”

“Gabe is a different kind of Madison, remember? He’s the one who made it through college and built a very successful business. When I was a kid, I recall Dad saying that Gabe was the one Madison who proved the exception to the rule that all Madisons were bound to come to a bad end.”

“Yes, dear, I know.” Another short silence hummed on the line. “But between you and me, Gabe was the one I worried about the most.”

That stopped Lillian cold. “You did?”

Elaine was quiet for a moment. Lillian could almost hear her thinking about the past.

“I wasn’t the only one who was concerned about him,” Elaine said eventually. “Isabel and I discussed him often. Even as a little boy, Gabe always seemed too self-contained, too controlled. He never lost his temper, never got in trouble at school. Always got good grades. It just wasn’t natural.”

“You mean for a Madison?”.

“No, I mean for a little boy. Any little boy.”

“Oh.”

“It was as if he always had his own private agenda. Looking back, I can see that he must have been driven, even then, by his vision of building a business empire.”

“I think you’re right,” Lillian said. “He needed to prove something to himself. But he accomplished his goal.”

“People who are compelled by a lifelong ambition do not change, even after it appears to everyone else around them that they have achieved that ambition. In my experience they remain driven. It’s a deeply imbedded characteristic.”

A Madison and his passion.

“Mom, listen, I really don’t-”

“I don’t want to intrude on your personal life, but Iam your mother.”

“I know.” Lillian sighed. “You gotta do what a mom’s gotta do.”

“I think you should assume that nothing has changed with Gabe.”

“What?”

“Madison Commercial was always the most important thing in his life. It still is. If anything, all that single-minded determination and willpower he used to get to where he is today has only become more honed through the years.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning,” Elaine said bluntly, “that if he has decided to see you socially, as you call it, he very likely has a reason.”

She felt her stomach tighten. “Is this where you tell me that the only thing Gabe wants from me is sex?”

“No.” Elaine paused. “To be frank, I expect that, given his money and position, Gabe can get as much of that as he wants.”

Lillian winced. She had a feeling her mother was right. “Please don’t tell me that you think he’s getting some sort of perverse satisfaction out of having an intimate relationship with a Harte. I refuse to believe that he’s so warped or so immature that he sees seducing me as a form of one-upsmanship.”

“No.”

She felt her stomach unknot. “He wouldn’t stoop to such a thing just to score points off a Harte. Heck, his brother is married to one now. Even Granddad couldn’t possibly believe-”

“No,” Elaine said again, soothing now but firm. “I don’t think Gabe would seduce you just to score points in that ridiculous old feud. He’s a long-term strategist, not a short-term opportunist.”

She let herself relax a little more. “So, what are you trying to say, Mom?”

“I just want you to be careful, dear. Your father and I have been talking a lot lately. It is clear that Harte Investments will have to be sold or merged when Hampton retires in a couple of years. None of you three kids wants to take over the company, nor does your father want you to feel that you must.”

“I know. He’s been great about not pressuring us.”

“Lord knows he experienced enough pressure when he was your age. He refuses to put any of you through it, regardless of what Sullivan wants.”

“What?” Lillian froze. “Are you telling me that the only reason Dad took over Harte Investments was because Granddad pressured him to do it?”

“In the years following the breakup of Harte-Madison, your grandfather put everything he had into building Harte Investments. It was always understood that Hampton would be his heir apparent. Your father went along with Sullivan’s dreams but they were never really his dreams.”

“I see.”

Lillian got to her feet and stood in front of the window, the phone clutched very tightly in her hand. She looked out at the white ripples on the bay and knew a strange sense of sudden understanding. It was as if a veil had been pulled back. She had just gotten a fleeting glimpse of a piece of family history that she had never even suspected existed.

“Hampton did not want any of you three to feel you had to live someone else’s dreams,” Elaine said. “He made that clear to your grandfather years ago.”

“Dad took the heat for us? I always wondered why Granddad didn’t make a bigger issue out of the fact that none of us showed much interest in Harte Investments. We all thought that Sullivan had just mellowed with the years.”

“Fat chance.” Elaine gave a soft, ladylike snort. “Your father went toe-to-toe with Sullivan more than once over that issue. He warned your grandfather that he would not permit any of you three to be coerced into turning the company into a family dynasty. Hampton wanted each of you to feel free to choose your own paths in life.”

“But Dad never felt that he, himself, had that option?”

“Not in the early days,” Elaine said. “But things have changed. Hampton and I agree now that life is simply too short to spend it maintaining someone else’s vision. Your father has plans for his future and he’s going after it with both hands. Sullivan has called the shots in this family long enough. He can do whatever he wants with Harte Investments. Hampton and I are cutting loose.”

There was no mistaking the steely satisfaction and determination in her mother’s voice. This was, Lillian thought, a whole new side of Elaine.

“You’re talking about the charitable foundation you two plan to set up, aren’t you?” Lillian asked.

“Yes. Your father can’t wait to get started on it.”

“I see.” Lillian blinked away the moisture that was blurring her view of the bay. “Guess Hannah and Nick and I all owe Dad big-time for keeping Sullivan off our backs, huh?”

“Yes, you do,” Elaine said pointedly. “But that’s not the issue here. What I want you to understand is that Gabe Madison is one very smart, very savvy CEO. Rumors travel like wildfire in his world. He has to be aware of the situation at Harte Investments. He must know very well that the company probably won’t continue as a privately held family business much longer.”

“So what?”

“I suspect he’s working on the assumption that H.I. will either be merged or sold soon. But if he marries you-”

“Stop.”Lillian could hardly breathe. “Stop right there. Don’t say it, Mom. Please don’t tell me that he’s sleeping with me just because he thinks he can get his hands on a third of Harte Investments that way.”

There was a heavily freighted pause on the other end of the line.

“He’d have to do more than sleep with you to get his hands on a large piece of the company,” Elaine said finally. “He’d have to marry you to accomplish that goal, wouldn’t he?”

Through the window Lillian could see that another new storm was moving in quickly. The winds were snapping and snarling beneath the eaves of the cottage. An ominous haze was forming out on the bay. The water was turning steel gray.

“Look on the bright side, Mom. Gabe hasn’t said a word about marriage. I have it on good authority that, when you get right down to it, I’m not his type.”

She went through the motions of making a pot of tea while she dealt with the floodtide of restless thoughts that cluttered her brain after she hung up the phone. By the time the water boiled, she had managed to regain some perspective.

Get a grip, she told herself as she poured the brewed green tea into a cup. What she had said to her mother was true. Gabe had not even hinted at marriage. He seemed quite satisfied with the prospect of having an affair with her, but that appeared to be his only goal.

On the other hand, she did not have a great track record when it came to applying her intuitive abilities to Gabe Madison. For some reason, her normally reliable sensors always seemed to get scrambled when it came to analyzing his vibes. Until last night, for example, she had been laboring under the assumption that the man was suffering a severe case of burnout.

She wandered into her studio, mug in hand, and looked at the blank canvas propped on the easel. She had come here to Eclipse Bay to paint, but thus far she had done little more than unpack her paints and brushes. She had made some sketches but she had not done any serious work. The relationship with Gabe was proving to be a huge distraction.

She fiddled with a pencil for a while, doing a little drawing, trying to get into the zone where the vision of the picture took shape around her, forming an alternate universe.

But she couldn’t concentrate, so she headed back toward the kitchen to refill her tea mug.

She saw the light on the telephone answering machine when she was halfway across the living room. Belatedly she remembered that there had been two messages. She had only listened to the one from her mother.

She changed course to play the second message.

“… This is Mitchell Madison. We gotta talk.”

Just what she needed to round out her day and ensure that she got absolutely no painting done whatsoever.

That afternoon, she walked into Mitchell Madison’s garden and looked around with interest. She had heard about this fantasyland of lush ferns, exotic herbs, and exuberant roses for as long as she could recall. For years it had been generally accepted in Eclipse Bay that Mitchell’s garden was far and away the most spectacular in town. Even now, in the heart of winter when all of the blooms had disappeared, it was an earthly paradise. But, then, they said gardening was Mitchell’s passion and everyone knew how it was with a Madison and his passion.

She followed the graveled path that led past banks of thriving ferns and through a maze of exquisitely maintained plant beds. The recent rains had released rich scents from the ground. At the far end of the walk a large greenhouse loomed. She could see a shadowy figure moving behind the opaque walls.

She opened the door and stepped into the fragrant, humid warmth. Mitchell was working intently over some clay pots arrayed on a waist-high bench. He had a pair of small shears in one hand and a tiny trowel in the other. The pockets of his heavy-duty, dirt-stained apron were filled with gardening implements. He appeared to be totally engrossed in his plants.

“I got your message, Mr. Madison,” she said from the doorway.

Mitchell looked up quickly, gray brows bristling above his fierce, aquiline nose. “There you are. Come in and close the door. It’s cold out there today.”

She stepped farther into the greenhouse, allowing the door to swing shut. “You made it sound urgent. Is something wrong?”

“Shoot and damn, course there’s something wrong.” He put down the shears and the trowel and stripped off his gloves. “I turned this thing over to Sullivan but as far as I can see, he hasn’t done a blame thing to straighten up this mess. Looks like I’ll have to take a hand.”

“Situation?”

“First things first. You serious about Gabe or are you just havin’ yourself some fun?”

She came to an abrupt halt. This was going to be worse than she imagined. For an instant she was afraid the thick air would suffocate her. With an effort of will, she managed to resist the temptation to flee back outside.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Don’t play games with me, young woman. You know what I’m talkin’ about here. If you’re fixin’ to break Gabe’s heart, I want to find out now.”

“Me? Break Gabe’s heart?” From out of nowhere, anger surged through her. “What makes you think that’s even a remote possibility?”

Madison gave a muffled snort. “You’ve got him in the palm of your hand and you know it. Question is, what are you gonna do about it?”

“That’s ridiculous. Just because we’re seeing a lot of each other-”

“Seeing each other? Huh. Appears to me that the two of you are doin’ a heck of a lot more than just lookin’ at each other. You think no one would notice if you just up and ran off to Portland together for a night? Shoot and damn, you aren’t even trying to keep things a secret.”

“You know as well as I do that you can’t control gossip here in Eclipse Bay.”

“When I was your age most folks had the common decency to do their foolin’ around out of sight.”

He was genuinely irate, she realized, as if this mess were somehow all her fault. His bad temper only served to inflame her own.

“That’s not what I hear, Mr. Madison. The way my folks tell it, you were more than a little obvious about your fooling around back in the good old days. In fact, Madisons in general are notorious for keeping the gossip mills humming here in Eclipse Bay.”

“Times change. Things are different now.”

“The fact that things are different now doesn’t change the past.”

“We’re talking about Gabe.” Mitchell planted his hands on his hips. “He’s a different kind of Madison.”

“People keep saying that, but how do I know if it’s true?”

“You’re gonna have to take my word for it.”

She smiled coldly. “Now why would I do that?”

“Look, I can see where you might not be able to figure him out. Gabe’s a little complicated.”

“Alittle complicated. That’s putting it mildly.”

“The important thing here is that I don’t want him hurt. If you’re not serious about him, I want you to break it off now before he gets in any deeper.”

“Just because we’reseeing each other,” she said through her teeth, “it does not necessarily follow that your grandson is in love with me.”

“If the two of you were just bouncing around together in a bed in Portland, that would be one thing. I wouldn’t pay any attention. But Gabe left Madison Commercial to follow you here to Eclipse Bay. That means he’s serious.”

“Good grief, you make it sound like the company’s his wife and I’m the other woman.”

Mitchell nodded. “That’s not too far off, when you think about it.”

“Look, for the record, Gabe did not leave Madison Commercial for me.” She spread her hands. “He’s just taking a little vacation, that’s all.”

“Bullshit. ’Scuse my language. Gabe doesn’t take vacations. Leastways, not monthlong ones. He walked out on M.C. because he lost his head over you. That’s the only explanation.”

“A very romantic notion but that’s not what happened. Furthermore, there are any number of people around these parts and several in my own family who will be only too happy to tell you what they believe is the real reason he took a month off from Madison Commercial.”

“And just what the heck do they figure that real reason is?”

“I’m sure you’ve heard the talk. The gossip in certain quarters is that Gabe wants to marry me in order to get his hands on a large piece of Harte Investments.”

Mitchell stared at her in astonishment. He looked genuinely thunderstruck. “Are you crazy, woman? Madisons don’t marry for money.”

“Maybe most Madisons don’t marry for money. But everyone has always claimed that Gabe is a different kind of Madison.”

Mitchell snorted. “Not that different.”

“Look, we all know that Madison Commercial is the most important thing in Gabe’s life. It’s his creation. Over the years, he has sacrificed for it, fought for it, nurtured it. Why wouldn’t he be attracted to someone who could add significantly to his empire?”

“If he’d been the type to marry for money, he’d have married Marilyn Thornley all those years ago. Her family has plenty of cash.”

She frowned. “I was under the impression that they broke up because Marilyn ditched him for Thornley, not because Gabe didn’t want to marry her.”

“Shoot and damn. Can’t you figure it out for yerself? They split on accounta Gabe made it clear that Madison Commercial was more important to him than she was. That woman likes to be number one.”

“So do I, Mr. Mitchell.”

“You’re a Harte. You understand about business coming first.”

“No, as a matter of fact, I do not.”

“Sure you do. Look, you know damn well you’ve got Gabe’s full, undivided attention and that means things are dead serious. At least they are for him. What I want to know is, how do you feel about Gabe? You willing to get married?”

She took a step back and groped for the doorknob with one hand. “Mr. Madison, this discussion is purely hypothetical. For your information, the subject of marriage has never come up between Gabe and me.”

“Looks like it will. And pretty damn quick, too, if I know Gabe. He didn’t get where he is by letting grass grow under his feet.”

“I really don’t think so, Mr. Madison.” She found the doorknob and wrapped her fingers around it very tightly, using it to steady herself. “For the record, Gabe has made it very clear that he does not want to marry what he refers to as an arty type. If you will recall, I’m an artist. That sort of takes me out of the running, don’t you think?”

“Nah. Not with a Madison. Madisons aren’t that logical when it comes to love.”

She had to get out of here. She was ready to explode. “Let me make something clear. If, and I repeat, if, Gabe ever brought up the subject of marriage, I would want to know that I was more important to him than just another addition to his empire.”

“And just how the hell is he supposed to prove that?”

“Beats me. That’s not my problem. It’s Gabe’s. Assuming you’re right, of course, which is highly doubtful.”

“Shoot and damn, if that isn’t just like a Harte. Askin’ for hard evidence when it comes to something that’s downright impossible to prove.” Mitchell leveled a finger at her. “Know what I think? I think you’ve just decided to play with him a little. You’re havin’ yourself some fun, aren’t you? You’re not serious about him.”

She had the door open now but something in his voice made her pause on the threshold. “You’re really worried about him, aren’t you?”

“Got a right to worry about him. He’s my grandson, damn it. I may not have done the best job of raising him and Rafe after their parents died, but I did what I could to make things right. I got a responsibility to Gabe. I got to look out for him.”

She searched his face. “He has the impression that you don’t care that he’s made a success of Madison Commercial.”

“Course I care,” Mitchell roared. “I’m proud of what he’s done with that company. He proved to you Hartes and the whole damn world that a Madison can make somethin’ of himself. He proved that a Madison who sets his mind to it can get his act together, that being a member of this family doesn’t mean you’re doomed to screw up everything you touch the way I did and the way his father did.”

There was a short, hard silence.

“Did you ever tell him that?” Lillian asked softly. “Because I think he needs to hear it.”

Mitchell’s mouth opened again but this time no words emerged.

She turned and walked out into the garden.

Gabe dunked a clam strip into the spicy red sauce. “Heard you went out to the house to see Mitchell this afternoon.”

Lillian started a little. The fork in her hand trembled slightly. She clenched her fingers around it and stabbed at the mound of coleslaw on her plate.

“Who told you that?” she asked.

Stalling, he thought. Why? What the hell was going on here?

This morning when they had left Portland together he had been feeling good. More settled. Like he finally had a handle on this relationship. He had assured himself that various issues had been clarified.

He and Lillian were having an affair. They both agreed on that. Couldn’t get much simpler or more straightforward than that.

But now that they were back in Eclipse Bay, everything was starting to get complicated again.

He pondered that while he listened to the background hum of conversations and the clatter of dishes and silverware. The Crab Trap was a noisy, cheerful place. Until Rafe and Hannah got Dreamscape open, it was the closest thing to fine dining that Eclipse Bay could offer. It boasted a view of the bay, actual tablecloths and little candles in old Chianti bottles. On prom night and Mother’s Day it was always fully booked.

It had seemed the obvious choice for dinner tonight.

A little too obvious, he had realized a few minutes ago when Marilyn Thornley had walked in with a small entourage and occupied the large booth at the rear.

“Ran into Bryce at the gas station.” Gabe put the clam strip into his mouth, chewed and swallowed. “He mentioned you’d been out to the house. Not like Bryce to say anything about a casual visit. He doesn’t talk much. Must have figured it was important.”

Lillian hesitated and then gave a tiny shrug. “Your grandfather left a message on my answering machine while we were in Portland. Said he wanted to see me. I drove over to his place. It seemed the polite thing to do under the circumstances.”

“What did he want?”

“Seemed to think that I was exerting my feminine wiles on you. Weaving a net of seduction in which to trap you, et cetera, et cetera. Evidently he’s afraid that I might break your heart.”

He managed to swallow the clam strip without sputtering and choking but it was not easy.

“He said that? That he’s worried you might break my heart?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, shoot and damn.”

“He said ‘shoot and damn’ a lot, too.”

“This is a little embarrassing.”

“He wanted to know if my intentions were honorable,” Lillian said without inflection.

Gabe made himself pick up another clam strip. “What did you tell him?”

“I told him the same thing that I told my mother today when she asked me about our relationship.”

Definitely getting more complicated by the minute.

“And what was that?” he asked.

She picked up her water glass. “That the subject of honorable intentions had not arisen and that it was highly unlikely to arise.”

“You told both of them that?”

“Yes. Well, it’s true, isn’t it?”

“Want to talk about ’em now?” he asked.

She flushed and glanced hurriedly around, apparently making certain that no one had overheard him. “That is not funny.”

“Wasn’t trying to make a joke.”

“For heaven’s sake, Gabe, keep your voice down.”

“It is down. Yours is starting to get a little loud, though.”

“You know, I don’t need this. I’ve had a difficult day. I came here to work. Thus far I have accomplished nothing. Absolutely zilch.”

“Painting not going well?” he asked.

“What painting? I’m starting to think I’ll have to go back to Portland to get anything done.”

“Take it easy. You seem a little tense tonight.”

“I’m not tense,” she muttered.

“Okay, if you say so, but I gotta tell you that you look tense.”

She lowered her fork very deliberately. “If this is your idea of a relaxing evening, I-” She broke off, stiffening in her chair. “Oh, damn.”

“What’s wrong? Is it Marilyn? I saw her come in earlier. Don’t worry about her, she’s busy with her staff in the booth at the back. I don’t think she’ll pester us tonight.”

“Not Marilyn.” Lillian stared past him toward the door. “Anderson.”

“Flint? Here? What the hell?” He turned to follow her gaze. Sure enough, J. Anderson Flint stood in close conversation with the hostess. “Well, what do you know? Almost didn’t recognize him in his clothes.”

“What on earth could he possibly be doing in Eclipse Bay?”

“I’d say that was obvious.” Gabe turned back to his food. “He followed you here.”

“There is absolutely no reason for him do that.”

“I can think of one.”

She frowned. “What?”

“He wants to buy your matchmaking program, remember?”

“Oh. I forgot about that. But I told him I didn’t want to sell.”

“Probably thinks he can talk you into it.”

“Damn. I did not need this.”

Gabe turned his head to take another look at Flint. At that moment Anderson caught sight of Lillian. His smile was the sort a man bestows on a long-lost pal. He made a never-mind gesture to the hostess and started across the restaurant.

“He followed you, all right,” Gabe said.

Lillian crushed a napkin in one hand. “I can’t believe he wants my program that badly.”

“You made a lot of money with that program. Why wouldn’t he want to do the same?”

Her brows came together in a sharp frown. “You really are paranoid when it comes to money, aren’t you?”

“I’m not paranoid, I’m cautious.”

“Cautious, my-”

“Lillian.” Anderson came to a halt beside the table before Lillian could finish her sentence. He leaned down with the clear intent of kissing her lightly in greeting. “What a pleasant surprise.”

Lillian turned her head slightly, just enough to avoid the kiss. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m attending a conference at Chamberlain College. Arrived this afternoon. I’m staying at a motel just outside of town. I remember your saying something about taking some time off here in Eclipse Bay. We’ll have to get together while I’m here.” He extended his hand to Gabe. “J. Anderson Flint. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“Gabe Madison.” He rose slowly and kept the handshake perfunctory. “We haven’t been formally introduced but I did see you once. Don’t think you would remember the occasion, though. You were a little busy at the time.”

“Gabe Madison of Madison Commercial? This is, indeed, a pleasure. Are you one of Lillian’s clients?”

“As a matter of fact-”

“We’re friends,” Lillian interrupted crisply. “We both have roots here in Eclipse Bay. My sister is married to his brother. Our families go back a long way together.”

“I see.” Anderson kept his attention on Gabe. “How long are you going to be in town?”

“As long as it takes,” Gabe said.

There was a stir at the front of the restaurant. He was conscious of a change in the atmosphere of the room. At the door an attractive woman was in heated conversation with the hostess.

“That’s Claire Jensen.” Lillian sounded concerned. “Marilyn’s new campaign manager, remember? Looks like something’s wrong.”

She was right, he thought. Even from here he could see that Claire’s face was tight with fury.

He also noticed that Marilyn had left her booth and was making her way swiftly toward the front of the restaurant. Her mouth was compressed into a tight, determined line.

“Uh-oh,” Lillian said. “I don’t like the looks of this.”

Claire’s voice rose above the hubbub. “Get out of my way, I said.” She tried to push the hostess aside. “I have something to say to that bitch and I’m not leaving until I’ve said it.”

Marilyn reached the hostess’s podium. She gripped Claire’s arm.

“I’ll take care of this,” she said to the hostess.

“Let go of me, you bitch,” Claire raged. “Take your hands off me. I’ll have you arrested. You can’t do this.”

But Marilyn already had her halfway through the door. Within seconds both women disappeared outside into the rainy night.

A hush fell over the restaurant. It lasted for all of five seconds. Then the room erupted in a buzz of excited conversation.

“Was that Marilyn Thornley?” Anderson sounded awed. “The wife of the politician who quit the senate race?”

“Soon to be ex-wife.” Lillian watched the closed doors at the front of the room. “And something tells me that Claire Jensen is now an ex-campaign manager. Poor Claire. I wonder what happened? I thought everything was going so well for her in her new job.”

The front door opened again a short time later. Marilyn strode back into the room, looking cool and unruffled by the skirmish. She paused to speak quietly to the hostess. Then she walked straight toward the table where Gabe sat with Lillian.

“You know her? You know Marilyn Thornley?” Anderson asked urgently.

“Her family has had a summer place here in town for years,” Lillian explained. “Gabe is much better acquainted with her than I am, however.”

Gabe gave her what he hoped was a silencing glare. He got one of her bright just-try-to-shut-me-up looks in return.

Marilyn arrived at the table.

“Sorry about that little scene,” she said. “I had to let Claire go today. She didn’t take it well.”

“Terminations are always so stressful, aren’t they?” Anderson’s voice throbbed with compassion. “May I say that you handled that unfortunate scene very effectively. You took complete control before things got out of hand. That’s the key. Complete control.”

“Someone had to do something before she interrupted everyone’s dinner.” Marilyn smiled and extended a graceful hand. “Marilyn Thornley.”

Anderson looked dazzled. “J. Anderson Flint. In town for a conference at Chamberlain. I’m delighted to meet you, Mrs. Thornley.”

“Please, call me Marilyn.”

“Yes, of course.”

This was getting downright sticky, Gabe mused.

“Got a new campaign manager lined up?” he asked.

“I’m putting together a short list,” Marilyn said. “I intend to announce my selection as soon as possible. This problem couldn’t have come at a worse time. I can’t afford to lose any momentum.”

Anderson glanced toward the door, a concerned expression knitting his brows. “I trust your former manager won’t cause you any trouble. Disgruntled employees can sometimes be dangerous.”

“Claire will behave herself if she knows what’s good for her,” Marilyn declared. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Flint. Any friend of Gabe’s and Lillian’s is welcome at the institute. Please feel free to drop by while you’re in town and pick up some of my campaign material.”

“I’ll do that,” Anderson said immediately.

Marilyn inclined her head. “Wonderful. Now I’ll let you two get back to your meal. Have a nice evening.”

She walked away toward the booth at the rear. Anderson did not take his eyes off her.

“A very impressive woman,” he breathed. “Very impressive. So forceful. Dynamic. Authoritative. We need more people like her in public office.”

Lillian caught Gabe’s eye. She looked amused.

“A perfect match,” she murmured beneath the hum of background chatter.

He grinned. “Are you speaking as a professional?”

“Absolutely.”

He knew before she started making excuses that she wasn’t going to spend the night with him.

“I really need to get some sleep,” Lillian said when they walked out of the restaurant some time later. “I want to get up early tomorrow morning and try to do some work.”

“Here we go again. It’s those conversations you had with your mother and Mitchell, isn’t it?” He opened the door of the Jag with a little more force than was necessary. “They messed with your mind.”

She slid into the dark cave that was the front seat. “It’s got nothing to do with them. I just need some quiet time.”

“Sure. Quiet time.”

“I told you earlier that I haven’t gotten any real painting done since I got here. If I go home with you tonight, I probably won’t get to work until noon or later.”

“Wouldn’t want to interfere with your best painting time.”

He closed the door. With a little more force than was necessary.