Chapter 17 Ember
EMBER
The office felt too quiet without Nate.
He'd left for a medical conference in New York early this morning, texting me from the airport to confirm he'd be back late tomorrow evening.
I'd responded with a brief acknowledgement and tried not to think about how much I already missed him.
I knew it was coming—after all, I was in charge of his schedule—but it didn't make the missing him part any easier.
What it did do was reduce the pressure on me to hold it all together and keep a professional smile in place while at work.
The past two weeks had been a careful dance of pretending everything was fine while my body betrayed me at every turn.
Excusing morning sickness as the flu would only last so long, and I'd dodged a few invitations to come to Nate's house for what I knew would evolve into sex because if he touched my boobs, I was going to snap.
But outside of all that was my growing fear that this pregnancy was going to erupt into a scandal worse than San Diego and it would inevitably hurt Nate.
Being at the receiving end of that myself, I felt horrible even thinking that it could go that far.
I didn't want to hurt him.
But today, with Nate away and no public appearances scheduled, I could finally breathe.
I'd dressed in my loosest clothing, bypassed my usual coffee in favor of ginger tea, and settled into my desk chair with a stack of correspondence that needed organizing.
The work was mundane but soothing, requiring just enough focus to quiet the anxious thoughts that had become my constant companions, and I sailed through morning into midafternoon feeling less stressed than I had in weeks.
By three in the afternoon, I'd made significant progress on updating Nate's filing system and I leaned back in my chair and allowed myself a moment of satisfaction and rest.
The job was fulfilling.
It was the public pressure that stressed me out. I knew if I could just make it past Christmas, everything would fall into place, or at least I hoped it would.
But a knock on the door interrupted my brief respite from overthinking and I looked up to see Nate's father standing in my doorway.
His presence was immediately intimidating because Nate wasn’t here to defend me or stand between us this time.
And I knew how the man felt.
"Can I help you?" I kept my voice steady despite the alarm bells screaming in my head.
"I came to speak with Nathan." Mr. Bradley strutted right in like he owned the place and walked directly to Nate's door which was locked. "Where is he?"
"He's at a medical conference in New York. He'll be back tomorrow evening." I stayed seated, gripping the armrests of my chair. "Would you like me to have him call you when he returns?" The way my pulse spiked couldn’t be good for the baby.
"No." He closed my office door after glancing out, and my small office suddenly felt suffocating. "Actually, it's better that he's not here. This conversation is overdue, and it's easier to have it without him present."
I forced myself to meet his gaze though I was trembling now. "What conversation?"
"The one where I tell you exactly what I think about this situation you've created.
" He moved closer to my desk, looming over me.
"You've insinuated yourself into my son's life in ways that are entirely inappropriate.
You're his employee, yet you've managed to manipulate him into a public relationship that damages his reputation and undermines everything he's worked to achieve. "
"I haven't manipulated anyone," I said defensively, feeling my anger tick up.
"Haven't you?" He raised an eyebrow. "A young woman takes a job with a prominent physician.
Gets herself appointed to a ceremonial role that requires close contact.
Orchestrates situations that force intimacy.
And now here we are, with my son's career in jeopardy and his name dragged through gossip columns. "
"That's not what happened." My heart was pounding and I felt like I might throw up.
"Nathan has gone through four assistants in six months and the only reason you stayed is because you superimposed your selfish agenda into his life." The man glared at me, but I tried to see him as someone who was just looking out for Nate.
It was just too hard to look past his hateful words.
But I hadn't orchestrated any of this.
I never wanted it to begin with.
"I stayed because I needed the job," I said. "And I became Hearthkeeper because your son pointed at me when he was backed into a corner. None of this was planned. I didn't want any of it."
"Perhaps not initially. But you've certainly taken advantage of the situation." He leaned forward, bracing his hands on my desk.
"Do you have any idea what the hospital board is saying? What the committee whispers when Nathan isn't in the room? They're questioning his judgment. His fitness for leadership. His ability to maintain professional boundaries."
"Then maybe they should question why professional boundaries matter more than genuine connection." I spat the words out hastily and immediately regretted them.
But they were fueled by months of pressure.
His expression hardened. "You think you're special. But I’m telling you, you’re nothing to him. Do you know why he doesn’t have a relationship?"
Mr. Bradley's eyes narrowed and I flinched.
I didn't know, and somehow, I didn't want to know.
His words felt threatening in a whole new way I didn't expect.
"If you cared about Nathan at all, you'd resign from your position," he continued. "Step down as Hearthkeeper. Remove yourself from his life and let him rebuild his reputation without your continued presence undermining him."
"Does Nate know you're here?" I asked.
"Nathan doesn't need to know. This is a conversation between adults who understand how the world actually works." He straightened. "You're young. You'll find another job, another life. But my son has invested decades building his career. Don't be the reason it all falls apart."
I gritted my teeth, swallowing the argument I felt rising up, and said, "I think you should leave."
Mr. Bradley stood there for a moment glowering at me before he turned and left, closing the door quietly behind him.
I sat frozen in my chair, trembling until I felt the tears beginning to well up.
I hadn't deserved any of that, and I just wanted to go home and hide.
The clock showed three forty-five—close enough to the end of the day that leaving early wouldn't raise questions, so I shut down my computer, grabbed my coat and bag, and fled before anyone could stop me.
Instead of taking an Uber, I walked home.
It was cold and getting dark so early now, but the fresh air helped push away most of the torrent of heavy emotion.
Until I turned the corner onto my street and stopped short.
Three reporters stood on the front lawn of my building with cameramen and notebooks in hand.
Two of my neighbors were pushing past them to reach the entrance, looking annoyed and embarrassed, and I knew I had to run the gauntlet before I could find the safety of my apartment and let the emotion out.
I recognized one of the reporters from previous encounters.
He spotted me immediately and called out, "Ms. Harrison! Can we get a statement about your relationship with Dr. Bradley?"
I ducked my head and hurried toward the entrance, but they followed with overlapping shouts and flashes of their cameras.
My jacket wasn’t big enough to pull up over my head, and my body was shivering from the mixture of emotion and anxiety.
All I could do was shout, "No comment!" to their questions.
"Is it true you're sleeping together?"
"What does the hospital administration think about the relationship?"
"Are you planning to continue as Hearthkeeper?"
I pushed through the door and into the building, my hands shaking as I stabbed the elevator call button.
I could still see the reporters through the windows, still standing on the lawn and watching the entrance, but at least inside, I wasn't being hounded by them.
What a horrible thing to come home to.
"Ember," I heard, and I turned to find my landlord approaching from the hallway that led to his ground-floor unit.
He was in his sixties, balding and perpetually rumpled, usually friendly but now wearing an expression of clear frustration.
He rubbed a hand over his sweaty, glare-prone head. "We need to talk about this press situation," he said in a very grumpy tone.
I saw the frustration in his eyes and felt like a child being scolded.
"I'm sorry. I didn't ask them to come here."
"I understand that, but I've had multiple complaints from other tenants. People can't come and go without being harassed. It's disrupting the building."
He ran a hand over his face, probably a nervous habit. "You need to make this problem go away."
"I don't know how to do that." My voice cracked as I swallowed the lump in my throat. If I knew how to do that, I'd have done it months ago.
"Figure it out. Talk to a lawyer, issue a statement, do whatever it takes.
But I can't have reporters camping on my property indefinitely.
" He softened slightly at whatever he saw in my expression.
"I'm not trying to be harsh. But this is affecting other residents, and I have a responsibility to them too. "
The elevator doors opened with a soft chime.
I stepped inside without responding, pressing the button for my floor with numb fingers.
The doors closed on my landlord's concerned face and the view of reporters visible through the front windows.
If it wasn't one thing, it was another.
My life felt like a warzone now, where I never got peace and there was no hope of peace talks.
In fact, with the secret I was keeping, I knew it would only get worse.
Now they were haunting me at home, threatening my place of shelter.
And what if they wouldn't go away?
Would he kick me out?
I let the tears fall as I pressed the button for my floor and wished to God I'd never left San Diego.
It might've been a circus, but at least I had a safe place to hide in my parents' house.
Maybe it was time to tell Nate I had enough, that his father was right and I should just leave and go home to California.
It might be the only way to let Nate survive this with his dignity intact.
Except it would come at the sacrifice of my heart.