Chapter 114: Second Life

Going back to school taught Alexander something he probably should’ve expected.

Put enough people raised around boardrooms and balance sheets in one classroom, and even hypothetical money started feeling remarkably real.

A discussion could begin with a simple investment proposal and somehow turn into forty minutes of people questioning projected margins, financing assumptions, labor costs, and whether the person presenting had any business entering the industry in the first place.

The fact that none of the money actually existed didn’t seem to matter.

If anything, that only made everyone more creative about finding ways to lose it.

Alexander’s restoration project received its share of criticism.

Some classmates thought it was too small.

One particularly ambitious heir couldn’t understand why Alexander Vance, of all people, wanted to build a business around repairing old furniture and pieces of old houses when he already controlled a corporation that could develop entire properties.

Others thought that was precisely what made the project interesting.

It wasn’t Vance Holdings.

Alexander couldn’t send the proposal to an entire department and wait for analysts to return with projections. No Board would ask whether the venture fit the company’s strategic direction, and no one else would vote on whether he could proceed.

If the business failed, it would fail because of decisions Alexander made himself.

Strangely, he liked that.

So when their professor instructed them to make their projects as realistic as possible, Alexander took the assignment somewhat more literally than necessary.

He started the business.

The first property came from his own portfolio, one of the earliest investments he’d made before acquiring properties became something he could do almost routinely.

The suburban house needed enough work to serve as a test project without being so deteriorated that restoration became financially ridiculous.

Alexander hired an architect.

Not Julian Park.

He liked Julian and trusted his work, which was exactly why Alexander didn’t call him.

For this venture, he wanted people who didn’t already know him. He wanted contractors willing to tell him something was a bad idea without first remembering that he was Alexander Vance.

By the time he began preparing for the class tour of the project, the assignment no longer felt much like an assignment.

There were permits to deal with and artisans to hire. Insurance had also been an unpleasant education.

Apparently, taking custody of old things that could become considerably less valuable after one careless mistake wasn’t cheap to insure.

Then there was the problem of scale.

Restoration wasn’t fast.

Good restoration was even slower.

A business couldn’t process an endless number of projects when much of its value depended on skilled people carefully removing decades of damage without adding new damage of their own.

Alexander spent several evenings revising his projections.

The numbers weren’t spectacular.

That bothered him considerably less than it would’ve a few years ago.

He wasn’t trying to build another Vance Holdings.

He wanted to find out whether Second Life Workshop could eventually support itself.

Profit could come afterward.

Preferably before he was eighty.

Giovanni discovered the project because Alexander had apparently become impossible to feed.

Lunch invitations were declined.

Dinner kept getting pushed later.

Eventually, Giovanni stopped asking.

One afternoon, Alexander stood inside the partially restored house, discussing an original interior door when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

"You’re difficult to find."

Alexander turned.

Giovanni stood several feet away, carrying a paper bag in one hand and cold drinks in the other.

Alexander’s eyebrow raised.

"How did you get here?"

"I followed your car."

"That sounds illegal."

"I maintained a respectful distance."

"That’s still following me."

"Your driver didn’t notice it."

Giovanni lifted the bag.

"I brought sandwiches."

Alexander considered this new evidence.

"Charges dismissed."

Giovanni smiled.

They ended up sitting outside beneath the temporary shade beside the house.

Alexander accepted a sandwich and immediately took a bite.

Giovanni watched him.

"When did you last eat?"

"This morning."

"What time?"

Alexander chewed.

"That feels unnecessarily invasive."

"Seven?"

"Approximately."

It was already past three.

Giovanni handed him a drink.

Alexander accepted that too.

For several minutes, they simply ate while workers moved in and out of the house behind them.

Giovanni eventually looked toward the building.

"So you actually did it."

Alexander followed his gaze.

"You sound surprised."

"I’m not surprised you’re doing it. I’m surprised you’ve gotten this far without telling me."

"You knew about the project."

"I knew about the restoration project. I didn’t know you’d already turned it into a business."

Alexander took another bite of his sandwich.

That was fair.

The idea itself certainly wasn’t new.

Giovanni had suggested restoration in the first place, back when they’d sat beside the river at the ancestral home and tried to figure out what else they wanted from life besides the companies they’d inherited.

Alexander hadn’t forgotten.

Neither had Giovanni, apparently. He’d even returned from Japan with a restoration book tucked among the things he’d brought home, claiming it counted as research material.

At the time, Alexander had mostly been exploring the idea.

Now there were workers inside the house.

A business plan sat on his laptop, and real money left his bank account.

Those developments probably warranted an update.

"I needed something for school," Alexander said.

"So you started an actual company."

"The assignment said to make it realistic."

Giovanni stared at him.

Alexander frowned.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You’re judging me."

"I’m admiring your commitment to homework."

Alexander ignored him.

"I wanted to know whether the idea actually worked once I stopped treating it like an interesting possibility and started paying for it."

That caught Giovanni’s attention.

"And?"

"The margins aren’t impressive yet. Labor is expensive, and I can’t increase volume indefinitely without compromising the work."

"Insurance?"

"Offensive."

Giovanni laughed.

"I assumed."

Alexander took another bite, then looked toward the house.

"I started with one of my own properties because I didn’t want the first major mistake to involve something irreplaceable belonging to a client. Once I know exactly what the operation can handle, I can start taking outside work."

"That makes sense."

"I know."

"There he is."

Alexander glanced at him.

Giovanni was still smiling. "I gather you have taken pictures before you started repairs to have a comparison after."

"Of course."

For some reason, that made it easier to continue.

"I can fund the early stages myself if it becomes sustainable. Good. If it doesn’t, I’ll know before I put substantially more money into it."

"And the trust?"

Alexander glanced at him.

"I’ve thought about it."

Augustus’s trust would eventually release more assets to him once he reached the specified age, although marriage could satisfy the relevant condition earlier.

Giovanni nodded.

"How much of it are you planning to put into this?"

Alexander narrowed his eyes.

"You’re starting to sound like my classmates."

"I’m asking one question."

"That’s how they start."

Giovanni smiled.

Alexander considered before answering.

"Not much at first. I’m not going to throw money at it just because I’ll have access to more."

"Good."

Alexander looked over.

"Good?"

"Yes."

"You don’t get a vote."

"I know."

Giovanni’s answer held no offense.

That made Alexander pause.

Giovanni opened his drink.

"You asked for separate finances."

"We agreed on separate finances."

"We did."

"So if I decide to spend an irresponsible amount of my own money repairing hundred-year-old doors?"

"I’ll tell you you’re being irresponsible."

"And then?"

"You’ll probably do it anyway."

Alexander laughed.

"Probably."

"And I’ll go back to managing my own money."

That answer pleased him more than expected.

There had been a time when marriage, money, family obligations, and business had all become so tangled together that Alexander could barely tell where one ended and another began.

This felt different.

Giovanni could disagree with him without having authority over him.

Alexander could listen without surrendering the decision.

He looked toward the house.

"I might ask what you think sometimes."

Giovanni glanced at him.

"Sometimes?"

"Don’t get excited."

"Too late."

"Advice isn’t authority."

"I know."

"And if I ignore you, you’re not allowed to sulk."

"I don’t sulk."

Alexander stared at him.

Giovanni took another bite of his sandwich.

"Fine. Put that in the prenup."

Alexander laughed again.

Behind them, someone started a power tool.

Neither moved.

After a while, Giovanni nodded toward the house.

"Second Life Workshop?"

Alexander immediately became defensive.

"What’s wrong with it?"

"I didn’t say anything was wrong with it."

"You made a face."

"I was thinking."

"Don’t do that around my business."

Giovanni smiled.

Then he looked at the house again.

"I like it."

Alexander studied him suspiciously.

"The name or the business?"

"Both."

That was considerably less entertaining.

Alexander looked down at what remained of his sandwich.

"Thanks."

Giovanni didn’t make anything of the unusually sincere response.

He simply bumped his shoulder lightly against Alexander’s.

"So when do I get the tour?"

Alexander looked toward the unfinished house.

"Now, if you want."

"I do."

Alexander stood and brushed the crumbs from his trousers.

Then he stopped.

"You’re not allowed to criticize anything until the end."

"I thought you valued my opinion."

"I do."

"Then why can’t I criticize?"

"Because I’m currently enjoying your company."

Giovanni laughed as he followed him inside.

For the moment, apparently, those two things could remain separate.