Dawn in Eclipse Bay

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.

chapter 13
    “It’s just a business,” Hampton said on the other end of the line.
    “The hell it is.” He’d had enough of the familiar argument, Sullivan decided. He ended the call abruptly with a sudden punch of a button.
    He ought to be used to this feeling after so many years of butting heads with his stubborn son. It was always like this whenever the subject of the future of Harte Investments arose. Hampton had done a brilliant job with the company, but he flatly refused to be concerned about what happened to it in