"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." Iwasn'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.
