Chapter 2
NATHAN
What a day it was.
I shuffled into my office hot and sweaty, carrying the old brass key that had symbolized the honor of being Lightkeeper for several generations now.
It was probably one of many props the committee used, much like the crowns Ms. Harrison and I wore and the robes they decked us in for the announcement and photo shoot.
But as the Lightkeeper I was responsible to hold onto it and bring it along to the tree lighting ceremony later this year.
I organized a space for it on my overflowing bookshelf and stepped back to admire its placement while Ms. Harrison stood in the doorway, still pale as a sheet.
She'd been that way since I appointed her my counterpart in the custom, and though I knew it came as a shock, I didn't understand why it appeared so tragic for her.
She clutched that tote and her phone like she was holding a life preserver in a raging ocean.
Only three days in as my new assistant and I got the feeling this one wouldn't stick, either.
I turned from the shelf and pulled my tablet from my desk drawer, already flicking through my calendar to make some sense of things.
But I was thankful she'd caught the emails about today and reminded me or I'd have been an hour late.
"We need to go over the schedule for the next five months.
The Lightkeeper duties are extensive, and I'll need you to coordinate with the festival committee to ensure nothing conflicts with my hospital obligations. "
She blinked at me with unfocused hazel eyes.
That dumbfounded expression made her look like a deer in headlights, slightly charming, but totally unacceptable for the assistant to the dean of medicine at one of the largest hospitals in the world.
"Ms. Harrison?" Lifting an eyebrow, I made a full stop and looked right at her.
"Yes. Sorry. Schedule. Right."
She fumbled with her phone, nearly dropping it before catching it against her hip.
The adorable wince of embarrassment that followed almost made me smile.
I opened the calendar app on my tablet and found the list the coordinator had emailed me during our drive back.
"There's a school visit next week at the elementary school.
I'll be reading to the children and talking about community service.
The week after that, it looks like there's a charity dinner at the church benefiting the food bank—the festival charity drive in August. Then we have the Halloween parade in October where the Lightkeeper and Hearthkeeper hand out candy to the children. "
I glanced up.
Ember was staring at the window with a tight jaw and a dazed look on her face.
"Are you getting this?" I asked.
"School visit. Charity dinner. Halloween parade."
She repeated the list back to me, but it felt too mechanical.
Something was bothering her, and though I was a kind enough man to ask, we barely knew each other.
Besides how inappropriate it was for me as her boss to dive into her internal monologue.
So I started ticking off things I knew were too important here at the hospital for me to miss and my eyes weren't seeing any conflicts yet, but that's what I paid her for. "Don't forget the hospital fundraiser and the Deck the Halls event for hospital staff. We need to coordinate…"
I looked up at her again and paused, letting my words trail off.
Ember's breathing had gone shallow.
I watched her chest rise and fall too quickly.
For a moment I thought she'd pass out, and it concerned me.
What had gotten into her?
Sure, I pulled her into that mess, but it was something so simple and meant so much to the community.
I didn't understand her hesitation about it.
And I had promised to get her out of it as soon as possible.
Hadn't I?
So I probed a little on purpose, pushing the button I thought had transformed her into this zombie-like creature to see if that was why she was nonresponsive.
"As Hearthkeeper, you'll need to present a certain image. You'll be expected to dress the part." I set the tablet down on my desk. "The committee will also provide talking points for interviews. We'll have at least a dozen media appearances between now and Christmas."
That snapped her attention back to me. "Media appearances?"
Her reaction helped pinpoint what was really transpiring in her head.
"Of course. The Lightkeeper tradition draws lots of press coverage. Local news, newspapers, a few regional magazines. It's all part of the responsibility."
She blanched and shook her head slightly. "How many cameras?"
"I'm not sure of the exact number, but we'll be photographed at every event. It's expected."
So it wasn't the role of Hearthkeeper or my insistence.
It was the media.
Ember Harrison was camera shy?
"Is there a problem?"
"No." She rushed the words out and touched her face at least three times. "No problem."
There was definitely a problem.
I crossed my arms and leaned against my desk, setting the tablet down. "You're clearly upset about this afternoon."
"I'm fine." Her demeanor shifted as she studied her phone with more interest now, but her hands shook and her face was still pale.
"You're not fine. You've barely looked at me since we left the festival." I felt slightly guilty for whatever she was feeling.
She was fine, albeit a bit stressed, at the festival, but clearly, I was part of the problem.
I'd been through so many assistants since taking over this demanding position that I was beginning to think I was too high-maintenance. "Talk to me."
She huffed and pushed the hair off her forehead before saying, "I'm trying to process the fact that I've been your assistant for three days, and I'm already committed to five months of public appearances I never agreed to."
"The committee needed a replacement." I frowned and realized my mistake. "You were available, so…"
"I was convenient," she corrected. "There's a difference." Her tone was a bit sharp, but I deserved it.
I had dragged her into this without consulting her, but in fairness, my previous assistant never informed me that Veronica had a "diagnosis".
I made a mental note to see what that was about.
I conceded the point with a slight nod. "You're right. I should've asked your permission before volunteering you. I apologize for that. But I was put in an impossible position, and I needed a solution."
"So you pointed at me and said 'her.'" Ember's voice rose slightly and her voice cracked.
"Do you have any idea what it's been like for me these past three days?
Your schedule is insane. You go from meeting to meeting without stopping to breathe.
I've been running myself ragged trying to keep up, and I thought I was finally getting the hang of it, and then you throw me on a stage in front of hundreds of people and tell me to smile and wave and pretend I'm honored to be there. "
Wincing at the accusatory tone, I said, "You didn't say no."
"Because you're my boss and you said you'd find a way to get me out of it after the ceremony!"
Her cheeks flushed, and she pressed her fingers to her temples as if she had a migraine coming on, and I felt horrible.
It was a rotten thing for me to do, and I knew I had to call the committee chair and undo this.
She had no obligation to follow through, and I knew it. I was watching her unravel because of my selfishness and it felt awful.
She dropped her hands and looked at me directly again, and finally, I saw the fear in her eyes.
"I became an assistant so I could work behind the scenes. I don't want to be photographed or interviewed or put on display. That's not who I am."
"Then why take a position with the Dean of Medicine?
" I asked reasonably. "You had to know there would be public events.
" I wasn't trying to push her, but I was curious.
My position came with a lot of public face time, and my assistant had to be at my elbow to handle things for me when I was in front of cameras.
"I thought I'd be organizing them, not participating in them." Her voice lowered a few notches with a hint of regret edging her tone.
I heard fear beneath the frustration, and I found myself softening despite my irritation at her lack of professionalism.
"Ember," I said calmly. Leaning toward her personal side wasn't the best idea, but I wanted her to really hear what I was saying.
"I understand this isn't what you signed up for, but the Lightkeeper tradition is important to this community and to me too.
I've never been chosen for the honor. I wasn’t thinking, and I was put on the spot. I'm sorry."
"You don't even know me."
"I know you've kept pace with me for three days, which is more than my last four assistants managed."
I moved away from the desk, closing some of the distance between us.
"I know you anticipated my needs at the festival without being asked.
You brought lemonade instead of water because you thought about the heat.
You printed directions and cleared my afternoon and made sure I arrived on time even though you only had a few hours' notice.
That tells me you're competent and thoughtful, and those are exactly the qualities I need in an assistant. "
The way she stared at me blankly left a lot to be desired, but the color had returned to her cheeks, bringing me a smidge of hope that she wasn't going to just cut and run.
I didn’t want to go through the hassle of hours of interviews again to find a new assistant.
"I'm asking you to trust me," I continued.
"I'm going to call the committee chair and see if we can't get you out of this.
" Pausing, I found it very pertinent to add, "But if we can't, I really do hope that you can see how the community of Beacon Hill leans into this honor and what it means to them. It's a very big honor."
"And the cameras?" she asked, lifting one eyebrow.
"Unavoidable, I'm afraid." I offered a small smile. "But you'll get used to them."
A heavy sigh escaped her lips and she frowned. "You don't know that."