I bite my lip, looking out through the windows at the Seattle city lights starting to twinkle as dusk settles over the water, at my father and Doug still gesturing animatedly on the patio, completely absorbed in their conversation.
"Alright," I say slowly, an idea forming as I speak, piecing itself together in real time. "I don't want to tell my father yet, and you do. So what if we compromise?"
He leans back slightly, studying my face with curiosity and maybe a hint of wariness. "I'm listening."
"You take the deal and build Seattle," I say, and it physically pains me to say it, like the words are cutting my throat on the way out. "I go to New York as planned, open the restaurant there like we've been preparing for. It's a long flight but it's manageable. We'd see each other when we can. Weekends, days off, the gaps between major services. We make it work. Lots of people manage long-distance relationships. We can figure out a flight schedule that works."
"Long distance," he repeats, looking thoughtful.
"For now," I say quickly, leaning forward slightly, warming to the idea as I articulate it. "Not forever. I'm not saying forever. Maybe I get sick of my father’s place in New York. Maybe you somehow decide you want to be in New York, open something there instead. We figure out who moves where, or we find a third option somewhere in between, or something presents itself that we can't see from here because we're too close to the problem and too caught up in the immediate panic."
"That's a lot of maybes and ifs," he says carefully. "It sounds like we're building two completely separate lives in two completely separate cities and hoping they somehow magically merge later. Not to mention, running these restaurants is going to mean eighty-hour weeks for both of us."
"I know it's not perfect," I say. "But I'm not ready for either of us to sacrifice our dreams, our careers, everything we've worked for. And I'm not ready to let you go either. This way we get both. It's not ideal, but it's something."
He nods slowly, processing. "And the compromise about telling your father?"
"We wait," I say, and the plan solidifies as I speak, gaining shape. "We wait until the deal is completely done. I know that's sneaky and manipulative, but Jean-Pierre is sneaky and manipulative all the damn time. He can handle someone finally using his own tactics against him. And it's not like he can't afford this investment. It's barely a blip in his portfolio. He'll be fine beyond his wounded pride."
Alex opens his mouth, probably to object, but I keep going before he can interrupt.
"And then I'll be established in New York too by that point. He can't pull me from NYC, can't back out of your deal because it'll already be done and signed. Then we tell him, and we show him how serious we are, that this isn't just some Napa fling. That we're committed to making this work despite the distance."
Alex looks at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable, then glances out at my father and Doug, who are both still facing away on the patio, pointing toward something in the distance while apparently still on their phone calls.
He brings my hand up to his lips and kisses it gently, and I exhale, the gesture both soothing me and lighting me up at the same time. He lowers my hand back down to the table, squeezing it once more before reluctantly pulling away.
"Alright," he says quietly. "We'll keep it secret, if that's what you want. That's a long time of sneaking around though—secret flights, hidden hotel rooms, lying about where we're going and who we're seeing. That's going to be exhausting."
"I know," I say, looking at him intently. "But this way we both get what we want professionally, and we keep each other. And I want both. I want you and I want my career, and I refuse to choose between them if there's any possible way to have both."
He smiles at me. "As you wish."
I smile back, feeling some of the tightness in my chest ease, the vise that's been squeezing my ribs since we landed in Seattle this morning loosening just slightly. "Good. I'm glad. And you're okay with long distance? Really okay with it?"
I need to hear him say it, need the reassurance that he's not just agreeing to make me happy. Maybe in the beginning I thought this would be a Napa fling, an intense month that would end when the residency ended. But there's no way now. I'm falling in love with him, rapidly and terrifyingly, and I can't imagine breaking up just because of distance.
He looks at me with that easy, warm smile that always makes me feel like everything's going to be fine, like he's never worried about anything in his life. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? I'm definitely down for long distance. We'll figure it out."
I tilt my head slightly, studying him, taking in the way he's looking at me like I'm the most important thing in the room. "You're really good at that, you know."
He leans back slightly, his expression amused. "Good at what?"
"Calming me down," I say. "I can get so worked up, so intense about things. But you just… you never get mad or mean, you never spiral with me. You always make me feel better about stressful things instead of worse. My family all runs hot and weaponizes anxiety. But you don't do that. I dunno. I really like that about you. I just… wanted you to know that."
His expression softens, something tender crossing his face. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," I say quietly, holding his gaze.
He glances out the window toward the patio, then back at me. "I really wish I could kiss you right now, so know that I'm thinking about it."
"Well, add it to the raincheck list. Maybe you can sneak into my hotel room later tonight."
His eyebrows raise, amusement flickering across his face. "Scandalous, Isabelle. I wasn't sure you'd be up for sneaking around like that under your father's nose."
I shrug, taking a sip of my wine. "Well, if we're going to do long distance and lie to my father for the next year, I might as well start practicing now. Consider it a training exercise."
He laughs, and we both straighten slightly as my father and Doug start walking back toward the table, both looking pleased with themselves, their conversation clearly concluded successfully.