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he’d been under a lot of pressure, and she had a little time left before the vote to work on him. She backed down. “All right. I’ll work my fingers to the bone for you, but I won’t quit harping on the lumber bill,” she warned. “I don’t believe in profit at the expense of the environment.”
    â€œThen you aren’t living in the real world.”
    She gave him a killing glare and walked out of the room. It was to her credit that she didn’t slam the door behind her.
    Clayton watched her retreat with mixed emotions. Usually, Derrie agreed with him on issues. This time, she was fighting tooth and nail. It amused him, to see his little homebody of an assistant ready to scratch and claw.
    The telephone rang and a minute later, Derrie’s arctic voice informed him that Ms. Watts was on the line.
    â€œHello, Bett,” he told the caller. “How are you?”
    â€œWorn,” came the mocking reply. “I can’t see you tonight. I’ve got a board meeting, followed by a cocktail party, followed by a brief meeting with one of the senior senators, all of which I really must get through.”
    â€œDon’t you ever get tired of lobbying and long for something different?” he probed.
    â€œSomething like giving fancy parties and placating political adversaries?” Bett asked sarcastically.
    Clayton felt himself going tense. “I know you don’t like my sister,” he said curtly. “But a remark like that is catty and frankly intolerable. Call me back when you feel like rejoining the human race.”
    He put the phone down and buzzed Derrie. “If Ms. Watts calls back, tell her I’m indisposed indefinitely!” he said icily.
    â€œDoes she like virgin forests, too?”
    He slammed the phone down and took the receiver off the hook.
    Â 
    Clayton phoned Nikki that evening. He didn’t mention Bett’s nasty remark or his fight with Derrie, which had resulted in her giving him an icy good-night and leaving him alone with cold coffee and hot bills. He had to depend on his district director for coffee, and Stan couldn’t make it strong enough.
    â€œI’m not going to be able to turn loose for at least two weeks,” he said sadly. “I’d love to spend some time with you before we get our feet good and wet in this campaign, but I’ve got too much on my plate.”
    â€œTake some time off. Congress won’t be in session much longer.”
    â€œI know that. I am a U.S. Representative,” he reminded her dryly. “Which is all the more reason for me to push these so-and-so’s into getting down here to vote when our bill comes up. I can’t leave.”
    â€œIn that case, don’t expect me to wail for you.”
    â€œWould I? Anyway, you need the rest more than I do,” he said on a laugh. “How’s everything going?”
    â€œFine,” she said. “Nothing exciting. A big fish washed up on the beach…”
    â€œI hope you didn’t try to save it,” he muttered. “You’re hell to take on a fishing trip, with your overstimulated protective instincts.”
    â€œI let this one go,” she said, feeling vaguely guilty that she was keeping a secret from him. It was the first time, too. “It wasn’t hurt very badly. It swam away and I’ll never see it again.” That much was probably true.
    â€œWell, stay out of trouble, can’t you?”
    â€œClay, I’ll do my very best,” she promised.
    â€œGet some rest. You’ll need it when autumn comes and the campaigning begins in earnest.”
    â€œDon’t I know it,” she chuckled. “Good night.”
    â€œGood night.”
    She hung up the phone and went to lounge onthe deck, watching the whitecaps curl rhythmically in to the white beach. The moon shone on them and as she sipped white wine, she thought that she’d never felt quite so alone. She