Chapter 97: Beyond Business

The conservatory was smaller than Alexander expected.

That helped.

Instead of a sprawling banquet hall filled with hundreds of people, it held carefully spaced tables beneath a glass ceiling, with enough distance between them for conversation to stay private.

Their table was near the windows.

Alexander sat down and looked at Giovanni.

"You chose the seats too?"

"No."

"Good."

"Why?"

"I was beginning to think you’d planned the direction of the air-conditioning."

"I checked parking."

Alex stared.

"You’re serious."

"Of course."

That made him laugh.

Their steaks arrived not long afterward.

Alexander cut into his.

Medium.

He looked across the table.

Giovanni was watching.

"What?"

"Correct?"

"The steak?"

"Yes."

Alex examined it dramatically.

"Acceptable."

"You’re welcome."

"Did you ask me specifically because you’d already made the reservation?"

"Yes."

"I knew it."

"You interrogated me."

"You texted me out of nowhere asking how I liked my steak."

"Perfectly normal question."

"From you?"

Giovanni frowned.

"What does that mean?"

"You don’t ask questions without reasons."

That landed more accurately than Alex probably intended.

Giovanni took a drink of water.

"Maybe I’m trying something new."

"Dangerous."

"Apparently."

Their conversation moved naturally from the exhibit to Alexander’s old sculptures.

He’d made his first proper piece at fourteen.

"A horse," Alex said.

"Ugly horse."

"You remember it?"

"It looked injured."

"It was running."

"It needed veterinary attention."

Alexander laughed.

"You made a bird that looked like a potato."

"I had no tutor."

"You had eyes."

"I was learning."

"So was I."

Giovanni pointed his fork at him.

"Exactly. Yet you mocked my bird."

"You called my horse injured first."

"Historical accuracy matters."

It was ridiculous.

And easy.

Somewhere between the main course and dessert, the conversation wandered farther away from business than either seemed to notice.

Giovanni asked whether Alex actually intended to finish his master’s.

"Yes."

"When?"

"I checked the remaining requirements."

Giovanni stopped.

"Already?"

"You told me to."

"I didn’t expect you to obey."

"I didn’t obey. I independently reached the same conclusion after receiving unsolicited commentary."

"That’s obedience with extra words."

Alexander ignored him.

"If the schedule works, I can finish without stepping away from Vance."

"Good."

"And before you say it, yes, I’ll actually enroll."

"I wasn’t going to say anything."

"You were."

"Probably."

Dessert arrived.

Alexander had chosen something chocolate.

Giovanni had deliberately avoided anything involving raisins simply because he no longer trusted the universe.

Alex took one bite.

"Why didn’t you become a chef?"

Giovanni blinked.

"Where did that come from?"

"You cook. Bake. Own restaurants. You obviously enjoy food."

"I enjoy construction too. That doesn’t mean I want to lay concrete every morning."

"Fair."

"What about you?"

"What?"

"If you hadn’t inherited Vance Holdings, what would you have done?"

Alexander’s fork slowed.

That was a harder question.

"I don’t know."

"Nothing?"

"I always knew Vance would eventually be mine to manage."

"So you never thought about it?"

"Not seriously."

Giovanni leaned back.

"That’s terrible."

"Excuse me?"

"You asked what I wanted next. You’re allowed the same question."

"I said restoration."

"As a business possibility."

"And sculpture."

"Hobby."

Alex looked at him.

"What exactly are you asking?"

Giovanni considered his answer.

"What makes you happy when nobody needs anything from you?"

Alexander went quiet.

People didn’t usually ask him that.

Alejandro had needed him.

Vance Holdings needed him.

Dominic had needed countless things from him.

Even Augustus’s inheritance came with expectations long after the man himself was gone.

What did Alexander do purely because he enjoyed it?

"Sculpting," he admitted.

Giovanni waited.

"Piano sometimes."

"I remember."

"Horseback riding."

"Obviously."

"Food."

"Eating isn’t a personality."

"It can be."

"No."

"Your entire restaurant portfolio disagrees."

Giovanni conceded that one.

Alex thought some more.

"Driving."

That surprised Giovanni.

"You barely drive."

"I know."

Because of Ben.

Neither needed to say it.

"I used to enjoy it," Alex continued. "Before the accident."

"Would you again?"

"Maybe."

"Then maybe that’s something else to take back."

Alexander looked at him.

Giovanni’s expression held no pity.

No demand that he overcome anything.

Just possibility.

"I might."

"Good."

Alex smiled faintly.

"Your turn."

"I answered at the river."

"You said travel."

"Yes."

"Where?"

"I still don’t know."

"Then that’s not a plan."

"Neither is maybe restoration."

"Fine. We both fail."

"Agreed."

Wine had been offered with dinner.

Alexander accepted a glass.

Giovanni stayed with water.

Halfway through, Alex noticed his untouched wineglass had been refilled with Giovanni’s water.

"You could’ve had one."

"We discussed this."

"I can call Elias."

"No."

"He can drive us back."

"No."

"Why?"

Giovanni looked at him as though the answer were obvious.

"Because I said I’d bring you home."

"That doesn’t mean you have to operate the vehicle personally."

"It does tonight."

Alexander studied him.

"You’re stubborn."

"So are you."

"I feel guilty drinking alone."

"Then give me your wine."

Alex instinctively moved the glass away.

Giovanni smiled.

"Problem solved."

"You’re annoying."

"And sober."

The evening continued.

No emergency interrupted.

No executive called with something that couldn’t wait.

Their phones remained mostly untouched.

When the official photographer approached and asked whether they wanted a photograph, both hesitated only briefly before standing.

One photograph became two.

Then the photographer asked them to move closer because of the sculpture behind them.

Giovanni stepped beside Alexander.

The resulting picture looked surprisingly natural.

Later, Alexander took out his own phone.

"Another?"

"You already have official photographs."

"I don’t have them yet."

Giovanni leaned closer.

Alex took the picture.

Neither examined it immediately.

That somehow made it feel more personal.

They weren’t documenting an event for publicity.

They simply wanted the photograph.

When coffee arrived, Alexander’s was black.

Giovanni added a little milk to his.

Alex watched.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You’re staring."

"I was remembering something."

Dominic’s cup at the reunion.

Milk.

Sugar.

A man who’d once been engaged to him and had forgotten something as simple as how he drank coffee.

Giovanni apparently remembered after years apart.

Alex picked up his cup.

"Black."

"Yes."

"You remembered."

Giovanni frowned.

"Of course."

Such a simple answer.

For some reason, Alexander looked down at his coffee before taking a sip.

Across from him, Giovanni had no idea he’d just said anything important.

Perhaps that was precisely why it mattered.