Chapter 128: Better Without Me?

The report wasn’t bad.

That was the problem.

Alexander sat behind the desk at Second Life Workshop, staring at several pages of numbers that should’ve made him happy.

Vance Holdings was doing well.

Very well, actually.

Revenue remained strong. Operating costs had improved slightly. Several ongoing projects were progressing on schedule, and one supplier contract had been renegotiated on considerably more favorable terms.

There were no emergencies.

No disasters.

Nobody appeared to be standing in the middle of the executive floor wondering what they were supposed to do without Alexander Vance.

How inconsiderate.

He turned another page.

The interim CEO had even resolved the western distribution problem Alexander had left unsettled before beginning his leave.

Alexander stared at that section considerably longer than necessary.

Interesting.

He read it again.

Still interesting.

Unfortunately.

The man had restructured part of the regional operation, consolidated several overlapping functions, and reduced costs without significantly disrupting existing projects.

It was a good solution.

Alexander hated it.

Not because there was anything wrong with it.

That would’ve been considerably easier.

He hated it because it worked.

He leaned back and looked toward the ceiling.

This was ridiculous.

He should’ve been pleased.

These were his people.

Many of the senior executives currently keeping Vance Holdings running had worked with Alexander for years. Some had been promoted during his tenure. He’d personally recommended several of the executives the Board considered before appointing the interim CEO.

A company that collapsed the moment its CEO stepped away wasn’t well run.

Alexander knew that.

He’d always known that.

Apparently, knowing something theoretically and watching several dozen pages of financial reports prove it were entirely different experiences.

In the first few days of his leave, his phone still got questions.

Nothing major.

A clarification here. A request for a document there.

Then those stopped too.

People figured things out.

Meetings happened without him.

Decisions were made.

The company learned how to live without Alexander Vance with frankly insulting efficiency.

He was still staring at the report when Giovanni appeared at the Workshop that Saturday.

"You’re working."

Alexander looked up.

"No."

Giovanni’s gaze dropped to the report on the desk.

"All right. Technically."

"Aren’t you on leave?"

"I am."

"From Vance Holdings?"

"Yes."

"And that says Vance Holdings."

Alexander looked down.

"Your observational skills remain exceptional."

Giovanni walked farther into the office and placed two drinks on the desk.

"I brought you one."

"Thank you."

Alexander took it.

Giovanni glanced at the report again.

"Problem?"

"No."

That made Giovanni pause.

Alexander sighed.

"They’re doing well."

Giovanni sat across from him.

"That’s unfortunate. Would you prefer bankruptcy?"

"No."

"Mass resignations?"

"No."

"A small fire?"

"Giovanni."

"I’m trying to determine the appropriate amount of failure you’d find comforting."

Alexander gave him a look.

"They’re doing really well."

Giovanni reached for the report.

Alexander let him take it.

He watched Giovanni skim the first few pages.

"Operating costs improved."

"I can read, Giovanni."

"I was beginning to wonder."

Alexander resisted the urge to take the report back.

Giovanni continued reading.

"The supplier agreement looks good."

"Yes."

"And this?"

"The western distribution network."

"He fixed it?"

Alexander’s mouth tightened.

"Yes."

Giovanni looked up.

"You sound personally betrayed by his competence."

"I am not betrayed."

"Offended?"

"Possibly."

That earned him the faintest smile.

Alexander leaned back.

"I know how ridiculous this sounds."

"Do you?"

"Yes."

"Good. Saves time."

Alexander kicked Giovanni’s chair leg.

Giovanni ignored him.

"You wanted five months."

"I still do."

"Why?"

Alexander frowned.

"What do you mean, why?"

"Why did you want the leave?"

"I finished my degree. I’ve been working continuously for years, and Second Life Workshop needs more of my attention."

Giovanni waited.

Alexander knew that look.

"What?"

"Those are reasons."

"Yes."

"I’m asking what you wanted from the leave."

Alexander opened his mouth.

Then closed it.

That was annoyingly different.

He looked toward the Workshop beyond the office.

"I wanted time."

"For?"

"To figure things out."

Giovanni remained quiet.

Alexander stared at his drink.

"I’ve been Alexander Vance of Vance Holdings for so long that I’m not sure where one ends and the other begins anymore."

There.

Apparently, they were doing this.

"I wanted to finish school. I want to build the Workshop without turning it into another Vance subsidiary. I wanted time that wasn’t already claimed by meetings before I even woke up."

"And?"

Alexander hesitated.

"I wanted to know whether I could step away."

Giovanni glanced at the report.

"Apparently, you can."

Alexander stared at him.

"Thank you for identifying the problem."

"I thought the problem was that you wanted to know."

"I did."

"And now you know."

"Yes."

"So what’s wrong?"

Alexander frowned.

He didn’t have a good answer.

Giovanni waited.

That was one thing Alexander had learned about him.

Giovanni could be remarkably patient when he knew Alexander was avoiding something.

"What did you expect to happen?" Giovanni finally asked.

"Nothing."

"Alex."

"I didn’t expect the company to collapse."

"Did you expect the interim CEO to fail?"

"No."

"Did you want him to?"

"Of course not."

That answer came immediately.

Whatever uncomfortable thing Alexander was currently feeling, he wasn’t petty enough to want thousands of employees and shareholders to suffer so he could feel important.

Giovanni nodded.

"Then what did you want?"

Alexander looked away.

There was no sensible answer.

Unfortunately, Giovanni didn’t seem interested in sensible answers.

"I thought they’d notice I wasn’t there."

Giovanni didn’t laugh.

That somehow made it worse.

Alexander rubbed his face with one hand.

"I don’t mean I wanted everything to stop. I just thought things would be harder."

"For whom?"

"The company."

"Why?"

"Because I wasn’t there."

Giovanni leaned back.

Alexander immediately pointed at him.

"Don’t."

"I haven’t said anything."

"You’re about to."

"I was going to ask another question."

"That’s worse."

Giovanni smiled.

Alexander looked back at the report.

"I thought there would be decisions where someone wondered what I would’ve done. Maybe a few more calls asking for my opinion. Something."

"But there weren’t."

"Not after the first few days."

"And that bothers you."

Alexander wanted to say no.

Instead, he sighed.

"Yes."

There it was.

Small, embarrassing, and unfortunately true.

He’d spent years telling everyone around him that Vance Holdings was larger than any single person.

Apparently, he’d secretly included an exception.

Himself.

"I thought I’d feel proud," Alexander admitted.

"Aren’t you?"

"I am."

"But?"

Alexander glared at him.

"Every answer doesn’t need another question hiding behind it."

"Yours usually do."

That was irritating because it was frequently true.

Alexander looked at the report again.

"I am proud. They can function without me. That’s what competent management is supposed to look like."

"Then what’s the other part?"

Alexander was quiet.

"I thought the company depended on me more than this."

Giovanni nodded.

No reassurance.

No immediate contradiction.

Alexander frowned.

"You could say something comforting."

"You’ve spent the last ten minutes explaining that a healthy company shouldn’t depend entirely on its CEO."

"I know."

"And now you’ve discovered you meant everyone except yourself."

Alexander looked at him.

"That was not comforting."

"It wasn’t intended to be."

"Excellent. Thank you."

Giovanni took a sip of his drink.

Alexander couldn’t even properly resent him.

That was perhaps the most irritating part.

Giovanni wasn’t dismissing what he felt. He simply refused to make Alexander feel better by telling him something neither of them believed.

Alexander looked around the Workshop.

This place certainly needed him.

At least for now.

Every bad purchasing decision was his. Every restoration that cost more than it could reasonably sell for was his problem. If Second Life Workshop failed, no Board could be blamed, and no finance department stood between Alexander and the consequences.

He’d wanted something that was his.

Apparently, he’d gotten it.

Then why did seeing Vance Holdings succeed without him still feel like someone had quietly moved his chair while he wasn’t looking?

"Maybe I’m not needed there," he said.

Giovanni answered immediately.

"You aren’t."

Alexander stared at him.

Giovanni continued before he could become properly offended.

"Not constantly."

"That clarification arrived late."

"A healthy company shouldn’t need its CEO every hour of every day. If Vance Holdings couldn’t survive five months without you, that would say something considerably worse about the company you built."

"I didn’t build Vance Holdings."

"You helped build what it is now."

Alexander fell quiet.

That distinction mattered.

Vance Holdings had existed long before Alexander occupied its chief executive’s office.

He’d inherited the opportunity.

What he’d done with it afterward was his.

At least he’d always believed it did.

"Temporarily," Alexander said.

"What?"

"They don’t need me temporarily."

Giovanni watched him.

Alexander looked at the report.

Five months.

That was all.

The interim CEO was supposed to keep the company stable while Alexander took his leave; then Alexander would return.

That had been the plan.

Except plans weren’t guarantees.

"And if temporarily works better?"

Giovanni didn’t answer immediately.

Alexander looked up.

"Is that what you’re actually afraid of?" Giovanni asked.

Alexander’s first instinct was to deny it.

Instead, he reconsidered the report.

One strong month meant very little.

Several months could mean more.

If the interim CEO kept producing stronger results, solved problems Alexander had left unresolved, and earned senior management’s confidence, the Board would notice.

Of course they would.

Alexander would’ve expected them to.

He’d spent years telling directors to make decisions based on what was best for Vance Holdings.

He couldn’t exactly complain if one day they applied that principle to him.

His fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the report.

Giovanni waited.

Alexander hated that he waited.

It would’ve been easier if Giovanni had reassured him.

He could’ve said Alexander was obviously better.

That Vance Holdings would always belong under a Vance.

That five months couldn’t possibly change anything.

Instead, Giovanni left the question where it belonged.

With him.

Alexander exhaled slowly.

"I’m afraid they’ll decide Vance Holdings is better without me."

And for the first time since opening the report, the numbers stopped being the most frightening thing sitting on Alexander’s desk.