Chapter 129: The Better Candidate

Giovanni didn’t tell him right away that he was wrong.

Alexander noticed.

"You’re supposed to say that would never happen."

"Would you believe me?"

"No."

"Then why should I say it?"

"For emotional support."

"You’re still handsome."

Alexander stared at him.

Giovanni took another sip of his drink.

"Thank you. Very useful."

"I try."

A reluctant laugh escaped Alexander, although it didn’t last long.

He looked at the Vance Holdings report again.

"What happens if he keeps doing this?"

"The interim CEO?"

"Yes."

"I imagine Vance Holdings continues making money."

"You know that’s not what I’m asking."

"I know. What do you think happens?"

"The Board notices."

"They should."

Alexander tapped one finger against the desk. "At the end of my leave, they’ll review the company’s performance."

"Do better numbers automatically make him a better CEO?"

"No. Five months isn’t enough to evaluate everything a CEO does."

"What else would the Board consider?"

Alexander thought about the question.

"Whether the improvements are sustainable. Some results could come from decisions already underway before I left. Market conditions change, and there are projects whose actual results won’t show for much longer than one reporting period."

Giovanni nodded. "So one good report doesn’t make him a better CEO."

"No."

"Does it make you a bad one?"

Alexander frowned. "No."

"Then why are you behaving as if you’ve already been fired?"

"I am not behaving like I’ve been fired."

"You threw a pen at me."

"That had nothing to do with Vance Holdings."

"You haven’t thrown one yet."

Alexander glanced at the pen conveniently sitting near his hand.

Giovanni moved it farther away.

Probably wise.

"But if the performance continues for the entire five months," Alexander admitted, "that’s different."

"Why?"

"Because then the Board has enough information to start asking harder questions."

"Such as?"

Alexander sighed. "You’re enjoying this."

"No. I want to know what you think they’ll ask."

Alexander considered the situation the way he would if the CEO under discussion were anyone except himself.

That changed the answer considerably.

"They’d want to know whether senior management works effectively under him and how he handles problems when conditions aren’t favorable. They’d compare the company’s direction before and during his appointment."

"And if he still looks good?"

Alexander’s mouth tightened.

"They may ask whether I’m still the best person for the position."

"And would that be unreasonable?"

Alexander almost said yes.

Instead, he looked away.

"No."

That answer hurt.

Giovanni didn’t rescue him from it.

Alexander had spent years demanding that executives justify their decisions. He’d removed people from projects when someone else could do the work better.

He’d always called that business.

Apparently, business became considerably less philosophical when the chair being discussed happened to be his.

"The Board appointed me," Alexander said.

"Yes."

"They can remove me."

"Yes."

"My shares don’t guarantee me the CEO position."

"No."

Alexander gave him a look. "You could occasionally make these answers longer."

"You already know the facts. I’m waiting for you to tell me how you feel about them."

That was irritatingly sensible.

"If they remove me as CEO, I’m still a major shareholder. I could remain involved with the company."

"Yes."

"I might remain on the Board."

"Possibly."

Alexander nodded.

Losing the CEO position wouldn’t make him poor.

Even if Second Life Workshop failed at the same time, he had property, investments, and substantial shares in Vance Holdings.

He would still be Alexander Vance.

Except none of that made him feel particularly better.

"Why isn’t that enough?" he finally asked.

Giovanni regarded him for a moment.

"Enough for what?"

"To make losing the position not matter."

"Why should it not matter?"

"Because I have everything else."

"That doesn’t answer the question."

Alexander frowned.

Giovanni leaned back. "What are you actually afraid of losing?"

"The position."

"Why?"

"Because I worked for it."

There was no hesitation this time.

That was the answer.

Alexander had been born into Vance Holdings, but he hadn’t been born its CEO.

His surname had opened doors. There was no point pretending otherwise. He’d been given opportunities other people would’ve fought much harder to receive.

But Alexander had still done the work after walking through those doors.

He’d studied and learned the company from people who knew more than he did. He’d made mistakes, corrected them, and spent years proving that appointing the Vance heir wasn’t simply another wealthy family handing an important title to one of its children.

"I earned that job," he said quietly.

"I know."

"So if someone takes it from me..."

"Then what?"

Alexander stopped.

Giovanni waited.

He wasn’t telling Alexander how he should feel. He wasn’t even trying to convince him that everything would be fine.

He simply expected an answer.

"If someone else genuinely does the job better," Alexander said slowly, "then I can’t argue that the Board should ignore it."

"No."

"But that doesn’t mean I have to give up."

"No."

Alexander looked at him.

Giovanni’s mouth curved slightly. "You sound disappointed that I agreed."

"I was preparing an argument."

"You can still have one if you’d like."

"With myself?"

"You’re doing remarkably well so far."

Alexander laughed despite himself.

Then his attention returned to the report.

"If I want the CEO position when my leave ends, and the Board believes someone else has performed better, what do you think I should do?"

"Do you want my answer?"

"I just asked for it."

"Then earn it."

Alexander blinked.

That wasn’t the reassurance he’d expected.

Perhaps that was why he listened.

Giovanni leaned forward.

"If this man spends five months doing an excellent job, why should the Board disregard that simply because your surname is Vance?"

"They shouldn’t."

The answer came automatically.

Alexander stopped.

Giovanni waited.

"They shouldn’t," he repeated.

If Alexander demanded accountability from everyone beneath him, he couldn’t suddenly object to merit because someone else’s performance threatened his own position.

"If I return," Alexander said, "I shouldn’t return because everyone kept the chair warm for me."

"No."

"I should return because the Board still believes I’m the better person to occupy it."

Giovanni nodded.

"Do you?"

Alexander looked at him.

"Believe you’re the better candidate?"

"That sounds arrogant."

"You’ve never had much difficulty with that before."

"Thank you."

"Answer the question."

Alexander opened his mouth.

This time, the answer didn’t come as easily.

"I don’t know."

Giovanni merely nodded.

That annoyed him.

"That’s all?"

"What would you like me to say?"

"I just admitted I don’t know whether I’m better than my temporary replacement."

"Yes."

"And?"

"And now you have five months to find out."

Alexander stared at him.

Something shifted, although not enough to become confidence.

The interim CEO had already solved a problem Alexander hadn’t.

That was a fact.

The question was what Alexander intended to do with it.

He pulled the report closer.

Then another question occurred to him.

"What if five months from now I discover I’m still the better candidate?"

Giovanni smiled faintly.

"Then you have another problem."

"What problem?"

"Whether you still want the job."