“I…I did things.” I lower my voice, licking my dry bottom lip. “I wrote an exposé," I whisper, because apparently I'm determined to sabotage myself. "I planned to?—"
"To expose corporate corruption. To fight for change. To protect yourself from trusting again after someone made you think you had to be less to be loved."
"That's not?—"
"It is." He moves around the table to my side, smiling briefly at Nonna as she passes near the kitchen. Several customers definitely notice our intense conversation, but I can't focus on anything except how he still smells like cedar-wood and fireplaces and warmth and everything I thought I'd lost. "And you know what? You were right. About all of it. The cultureproblems, the retention issues, the way we've been doing everything wrong while convincing ourselves it was right."
"Then you’re set. I’ve done what I came back to do.” I bite down on the tears that are threatening to spill. “So why come back here? Why want me back at all?”
Alex blinks, reaching for my hand.
"Because somewhere between champagne and revolution, I fell for the woman who made me see what needed fixing. What I was missing while building walls around success." His other hand curves around my cheek, thumb brushing away what's probably more sauce. "And because I was invited for Christmas dinner. Though I may be a little early."
"A little?” I laugh, the sound caught behind a sob. “We haven't even started the main service."
"Perfect timing then." His eyes hold mine. "Gives me time to spend with my favorite corporate culture consultant.”
"I'm not ‘consulting’ anything when I looked like a lost a wrestling match with a tomato cart."
"I noticed that.” His smile turns lopsided. "Though I have to admit, it's a good look on you. Very... passionate Italian chef meets corporate revolutionary."
"Speaking of revolutionary..." I glance around. "Where's Keith's choir? I expected at least one musical number about love and corporate redemption."
"Oh, they're outside. I convinced them to wait for my signal before starting 'All I Want for Christmas is Corporate Equality.'"
"Of course you did." But I'm smiling too, even as tears slip down my cheeks. "This is insane, you know that?”
"Seems perfect to me." His thumb catches another tear. "Though I do have conditions for rehiring you."
"Oh?"
"No more walls." He leans in closer next to me on the fauxleather booth seat, and suddenly the bustling restaurant fades away. "No more hiding. No more lying. Just us. Building something real. Together."
Through my tears, I see the truth in his eyes - the vulnerability, the hope, the love that matches my own.
"You do realize that if you take me back, you're stuck with all of this?" I motion to my sauce-covered state, to the Christmas-y chaos around us. "The revolution doesn't end just because we choose trust."
"Good." He pulls me closer, not caring about the tomato stains transferring to his perfect suit. "Because I happen to like revolution. And champagne. And you.”
"Even though my shirtfront is literally sticking to yours?”
"Especially that part." He laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Though I’d like a lot fewer clothes the next time either of us gets…sticky.”
A startled laugh breaks through my tears, and suddenly Alex is kissing me, like no else is there.
Through the windows, I spot Keith's revolutionary choir, already launching into what sounds suspiciously like a love-themed version of "Do You Hear the People Sing."
But for once, I don't care about the chaos or the olive oil stains or the way my heart feels too big for my chest.
"I love you," I whisper against Alex's mouth, tasting happiness and wonder and everything we can build together. “Do you know that?”
“I do. And I love you," he murmurs back. “I’ll love you even more if you can sneak away some of your Nona’s tiramisu.”
I lean in, licking his bottom lip. “Done.”
Outside, the snow falls harder and Keith's choir launches into another number.
But inside my heart, everything is warm and bright and possible.