"I am," I say. "And I'm so sorry. This restaurant is beautiful, your vision is clear, your team is talented. But I don't think it's the right fit for me right now. I need to figure out what I actually want to cook, not just what I'm good at cooking."
She nods slowly, and I can see understanding in her eyes. "I get it. I really do. You're in a transition, and you need space to figure out who you are as a chef when you're not trying to meet someone else's expectations."
"Exactly," I say, grateful she understands.
"Well," she says, standing and smoothing her chef's whites. "The offer stands if you change your mind. But I have a feeling you won't. I think you're going to do something completely different, and I think it's going to be incredible."
We say our goodbyes, Camille kissing both my cheeks and extracting a promise to stay in touch, and then Margot and I step back out into the Manhattan afternoon. I feel lighter. Clearer. Like I just dodged a path that would have been wrong.
"Alright," Margot says, linking her arm through mine as we start walking with no particular destination. "Let's go betourists. You can show me more of thissupposedlysuperior East Coast culture."
I laugh. "Deal. But you're buying the next round of overpriced coffee."
"Worth it," she says, and we disappear into the crowd of people rushing past, just two more bodies in the endless flow of Manhattan.
CHAPTER 28
Alex
The rain is coming down in that persistent Pacific Northwest drizzle that's more mist than actual drops, the kind that soaks you without you realizing it's happening. I'm sitting under the covered patio at Harbor & Ash, leaning back in my seat with my feet propped up on the railing, watching the evening light fade over the harbor.
It's chilly, the late October air cold enough to bite, rain dripping steadily from the edge of the awning as I overlook the harbor and the dark silhouettes of pine trees in the distance beyond the water.
I'm nursing a beer and thankfully the patio is completely empty. No one sits outside this time of year, especially not in weather like this. Most people have better sense.
I hear footsteps behind me and turn to see Theo shutting the door to the restaurant and making his way across the wet deck, pulling his jacket tighter against the cold. He sits back down next to me in the other chair, the wood creaking slightly under his weight.
"Sorry about that," he says, pulling out his phone and silencing it.
I smile despite the weight in my chest. "Don't apologize. I need to stop sulking out here in the rain anyway. Though I will say you still haven't told me 'I told you so' about the Jean-Pierre situation. You called it that it would all blow up spectacularly."
Theo shrugs, settling back in his chair. "Eh, not in my nature to kick you when you're down."
I chuckle. "You really are the better person between us. I definitely would have roasted you mercilessly if the situation were reversed."
He smiles that smug smile of someone who has superior morals. "I know."
We sit in silence for a moment, watching the rain create expanding circles on the surface of the harbor, the water dark and choppy under the gray sky. A fishing boat motors past in the distance, its running lights barely visible through the mist.
He shifts in his chair. "Well, you still have this place. Harbor & Ash. And maybe Jean-Pierre has reach, but we can still find a way to make Seattle work eventually. To make it all happen on our own terms. A sister restaurant to Harbor & Ash, maybe not as big as what he was offering, but still. It’s something."
I smile at that, grateful for his optimism even if I'm not sure I share it. "You know, this will sound crazy, but I don't even know if I want to open in Seattle anymore."
He turns to look at me, eyebrows raised.
"I honestly can't keep up with you." He shakes his head. "A month ago you were ready to sign your life away for Seattle. Now you're not sure?"
I take a long pull from my beer. "I know, I know. But the more I think about that deal, the more I don't know how happy it actually would have made me."
Theo nods thoughtfully, tapping his fingers against the armof his chair. "I mean, he's a hell of a guy to go into business with. I think we learned that pretty definitively."
"It’s not just that. It was so much ego driving it. The Seattle restaurant, the prestige of having Jean-Pierre Beaumont backing me, the idea of building this empire. I think I'm always just chasing external validation—the accolades, the recognition, trying to prove I'm as good as I think I am."
Theo grins. "You know I thinkIcould have told you that. In fact, I'm pretty sure Ididtell you that."
I laugh. "Yes, I think you mentioned it a few times over the years when I was being insufferable."
He takes a sip from the beer he brought out with him, looking out at the rain for a moment before turning back to me. "So what, is Dark River enough now? Giving up on the whole expansion dream? Because I'm not going to lie, part of me would be relieved if you did. But I also don't want you to wake up in five years and resent being here because you gave up on something you actually wanted."