quietly.
They all looked at her. Gabe and Rafe had the baffled, blank expressions that were common to the male of the species when psychological explanations for behavior were offered. But Hannah nodded in immediate agreement.
“Yes, of course,” she said. “Makes sense. Lil’s right. Sounds like burnout.”
“Sounds like psychobabble to me,” Gabe said. “What’s this about burnout?”
“Think about it,” Lillian said patiently. “You’ve expended an enormous amount of physical and mental energy on Madison Commercial for years. It’s no secret that you’ve driven yourself very hard to make your company successful. That kind of intense focus over a long period of time takes its toll.”
“How would you know?” he asked. The words were spoken in deceptively silky tones. “From what you’ve told me about your checkered job history, you haven’t stuck with anything long enough to burn out on it.”
The blatant rudeness crackled in the solarium like sheet lightning. To Hannah and Rafe, the sharp retort must have appeared to come out of nowhere.
Afraid that Rafe was going to say something to his brother that was probably better left unsaid, Lillian moved to defuse the situation.
“You’re right about my job history,” she said to Gabe. “Guess some of us are just born to be free spirits.
Funny, isn’t it?”
“What’s funny about it?” Gabe asked.
“Most people would have assumed that you would have been the one who wound up with the spotty employment record.”
“Because I’m a Madison?”
“Yes.” She gave him a steely smile. “Whereas I am a stable, steady, long-range planning Harte.” She turned to the others. “I suggested to Gabe that he might want to hire me into an executive position at Madison Commercial, but he declined on the basis of my erratic résumé.”
Gabe rested an arm along the back of his chair. He did not take his eyes off Lillian. “That wasn’t the reason I said I wouldn’t hire you.”
“What was the reason?” Hannah asked curiously.
“She pointed out that within a very short time she would probably be trying to tell me how to run my company. I said if that happened, I’d have to fire her. We both agreed there was no point even starting down that road, given the foregone conclusion.”
“As you can see,” Lillian said, “the decision not to hire me at M.C. was mutual. The last thing I need is another short-term position on my résumé.”
The tension that had cloaked the dining room lightened, as she had hoped. Hannah took her cue and shifted deftly to the new topic.
“But you are looking for a new job, I take it, now that you’ve closed Private Arrangements?” she asked.
“Well, no,” Lillian said.
“You’re going to apply for unemployment? That’d be a first for a Harte,” Gabe mused.
“I’m not going on unemployment.”
Rafe raised one brow. “Accepting a position with Harte Investments?”
“Never in a million years. It’s not just that I can’t work for my father. The main problem is that I’m not the corporate type.”
Gabe sat forward and folded his arms on the table. “Okay, I’ll bite. What are you going to do next?”
“Paint.”
“You’ve always painted,” Hannah replied.
“I’m going to do it full time now. I’m turning pro.”
All three of them contemplated her as if she had just announced that she intended to go to work in a carnival sideshow.
Hannah groaned. “Please don’t tell me that you’ve closed Private Arrangements so that you can devote yourself to art.”
“I’ve closed Private Arrangements so that I can devote myself to art.”
“Mom and Dad are going to have a fit.” Hannah flopped back in her chair. “To say nothing of Granddad.”
“I know,” Lillian said.
Rafe reached for the coffeepot. “Got any reason to think you can make a living painting?”
“I’ll find out soon enough whether it will work. Octavia Brightwell is going to put on a show of my work in her