Chapter 151: The Aftermath

Alejandro called Alexander the following morning.

"How are you? I heard the workshop caught fire."

"I’m fine, Dad. The workshop took some damage, but it can still be repaired. It’s just going to cost considerably more than I would’ve liked."

"What caused the fire?"

Alexander leaned back in his chair.

"Remember Dominic’s boyfriend?"

"The blond one?"

"Andrew Callahan."

Alejandro went quiet for a moment.

"What does he have to do with it?"

"We have recordings of him entering the workshop and starting the fire."

Another pause followed, considerably longer this time.

"And he was arrested?"

"Not far from the workshop. The case is in the authorities’ hands now, and he’s being held while waiting for his hearing." Alexander shook his head. "Funny thing is, he’s still claiming he’s innocent despite the recordings."

Alejandro clearly didn’t find that nearly as amusing.

"What the hell was he thinking?"

"I’m not sure he was."

That earned a sigh from his father.

"What do you intend to do now?"

"Rebuild."

The answer came easily.

There really wasn’t much else to consider. He’d spent months getting Second Life Workshop off the ground. One fire, even a deliberately set one, wasn’t enough to make him abandon it.

"We were lucky," he continued. "We’d already delivered the completed pieces to their owners, and there wasn’t any pending work in storage when the fire happened."

"That was very lucky."

It could’ve been considerably worse. Alexander knew that much. The building could be repaired. Equipment could be replaced. Even the money could eventually be recovered.

Explaining to several customers that their irreplaceable furniture had gone up in flames would’ve been another matter entirely.

"What about your insurance?" Alejandro asked.

"We filed the claim this morning. It’ll take some time to process everything, though."

"So what happens to the business while you’re waiting?"

"That’s actually why I wanted to ask you something." Alexander shifted the phone to his other hand. "Can we use one of your warehouses as a temporary restoration floor until the renovations are finished?"

"Of course. Pick whichever one works best for you."

"It might need some work."

"Then fix what needs fixing. As long as the building is sound, you can make it suitable enough to protect the furniture from heat and rain."

Alexander smiled slightly.

That solved his most immediate problem.

"Thanks, Dad."

"How long do you think the repairs will take?"

"I don’t know yet. But after what happened, I’m thinking of doing more than just repairing the damage."

The fire had exposed a weakness in the original setup that Alexander could no longer ignore.

"I might rebuild the actual restoration floor using concrete, steel, and glass, just like Julian Park suggested. Then I can separate it from the restored wooden house and keep the original structure as the showroom."

"Julian Park?"

"The architect from my master’s class."

Alexander remembered their conversation quite clearly now.

"He suggested separating the restoration floor from the original house when I presented the business model. At the time, I thought renovating the existing structure would be more practical."

"And now?"

Alexander looked down at the preliminary photographs of the fire damage sitting on his desk.

Woodworking generated dust. Restoration involved tools, equipment, finishes, and other materials that didn’t belong beside a century-old wooden structure if he could avoid it. Andrew might’ve deliberately started this particular fire, but the damage had made Alexander reconsider a risk that had already been there.

"Now I think Julian had a point."

Alejandro chuckled softly.

"Don’t tell him that. Architects are difficult enough when they think they’re right."

Alexander laughed.

"I might have to tell him. I’m going to need an architect."

"Well, there you go."

Alexander looked at the photographs again.

The workshop was damaged. Repairs would be expensive, operations would be disrupted, and an insurance claim would become another stack of paperwork.

But the business was still there.

So were the people who worked for it.

And if Alexander had to rebuild anyway, he might as well rebuild it better.

Unfortunately, deciding to rebuild didn’t mean Second Life Workshop could simply carry on as though nothing had happened.

There were customers to inform.

Orders had to be rescheduled. New pickups had to be postponed until they had somewhere safe to receive and store the furniture. Suppliers needed a new delivery address, and several materials and tools damaged in the fire would have to be replaced before restoration work could properly resume.

Then there were the workers.

Alexander called a general meeting with Bob and the rest of the Second Life Workshop employees.

Without the workshop, the artisans had nowhere to work.

And without work, they had no livelihood.

Alexander had enough money to survive months without drawing anything from the business. The same couldn’t necessarily be said for the people sitting in front of him.

Some had families.

Some had rent.

Some had bills that wouldn’t particularly care that their workplace had caught fire.

Alexander had known from the beginning that running a small business would be different from running Vance Holdings. At Vance, a damaged facility would’ve become a problem distributed among departments, executives, insurers, accountants, and legal counsel.

At Second Life Workshop, most of those problems eventually came back to him.

"We’re not closing," Alexander told them.

That immediately changed several expressions around the room.

"We’ll suspend normal operations while we relocate, but I already have a temporary site."

He explained that Alejandro had agreed to let them use one of the warehouses at the Vance ancestral property.

The warehouse wasn’t designed for furniture restoration, so they’d need to do some work before moving in. Still, it had a solid structure, enough floor space for their equipment and worktables. They could modify it into a temporary restoration floor much faster than rebuilding Second Life Workshop from the ground up.

"There’s also a bunkhouse near the warehouse," Alexander continued. "Anyone who stays with the business can use it during the workweek. You can go home on weekends."

That part was necessary because the ancestral property wasn’t close enough for everyone to commute comfortably every day.

Alexander looked around the room.

"I also understand that this isn’t what any of you signed up for."

No one spoke.

"The location is changing. You’ll have to stay away from home during the week, at least temporarily, and I can’t give you an exact date yet for when we’ll move back. So I’m not going to force anyone to stay."

Bob’s expression became more serious.

"Those who want to continue working can sign up once you’ve seen the temporary site and the arrangements. If anyone would rather end their employment here, we’ll process the proper separation documents and whatever compensation you’re entitled to."

Alexander wasn’t particularly happy about saying it.

He’d rather keep everyone.

But wanting his employees to stay didn’t give him the right to pretend the new arrangement wouldn’t impose on their lives.

One of the artisans raised his hand.

"How long before we can start working again?"

"A few days at minimum. We need to inspect the warehouse, make the necessary adjustments, move whatever equipment survived, and replace what we immediately need. I don’t want anyone working there until we’re sure it’s safe."

"What happens to our pay until then?"

That was the question Alexander had expected.

"We’ll cover your wages during the temporary shutdown."

A visible wave of relief went around the room.

It would cost the business.

Of course it would.

They’d already lost equipment and materials. Repairs would eat into their funds even if insurance eventually covered part of the damage. Relocation would cost money. The temporary warehouse needed work, and every day they weren’t accepting their usual volume of projects meant less revenue coming in.

Second Life Workshop had only recently begun receiving the fruits of months of work.

Now a good portion of those early profits would probably go straight back into keeping the business alive.

Alexander could’ve stopped salaries until operations resumed.

Financially, it would’ve been easier.

He also would’ve risked losing the very artisans he needed once they reopened.

Replacing equipment was straightforward enough.

Replacing skilled people wasn’t.

Alexander turned toward his newest employee.

"Bob, how about you?"

Bob blinked.

"Me, sir?"

"Are you staying?"

Bob looked thoughtful, rather than answering immediately.

"Maybe we should all know where the temporary workplace is before we decide."

Several heads nodded.

Alexander stared at him for a second. "Bob, arrange for a rental van or bus that would fit everyone going for the site inspection."

Then he smiled.

"Fair enough."

Alexander could stand there describing warehouses and bunkhouses all afternoon, but the people expected to spend five days a week there deserved to see the place for themselves.

"We’ll arrange a visit tomorrow. After that, you can decide."

That seemed to satisfy everyone.

The meeting continued with more practical concerns.

Customers with active bookings would be contacted individually. No new furniture would be accepted until the temporary storage and restoration areas were ready. Anyone whose project had to be delayed would be given a revised schedule rather than vague promises.

Alexander didn’t want news of the fire to become news that Second Life Workshop was unreliable.

They’d spent too much effort building that trust.

Fortunately, none of the customers whose furniture had recently been restored had lost anything in the fire. That alone spared the business from what could’ve been devastating compensation claims, not to mention the reputational damage of destroying pieces that sometimes carried more sentimental value than monetary value.

The financial loss was still substantial.

But substantial wasn’t fatal.

Alexander could work with that.

By the time the meeting ended, he had another list of things to do, several calls to make, and a growing suspicion that rebuilding the workshop itself might eventually prove easier than dealing with everything surrounding it.

Still, there was one thing he hadn’t expected.

He felt better.

Not good, exactly.

His business had been deliberately set on fire. Good seemed a little ambitious.

But something about having a plan was reassuring.

The workshop wasn’t gone.

It was relocating.

The employees weren’t suddenly unemployed.

They had a choice.

Their customers hadn’t lost their furniture.

And Second Life Workshop would continue taking projects once the temporary facility was ready.

For the first time since the fire, Alexander felt as though he was moving forward instead of simply dealing with what Andrew had done.

Giovanni called after office hours.

Alexander had been waiting for that particular call.

He answered almost immediately.

"Gio."

"How was the meeting?"

"Better than expected. We’re taking everyone to see the warehouse tomorrow before they decide whether they want to stay."

"That sounds reasonable."

"It was Bob’s idea."

"Then your new Operations Assistant is already earning his salary."

Alexander smiled.

He’d been thinking about something else since his conversation with Alejandro.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"How would you feel if I asked Julian Park to be the architect for the workshop?"

Silence.

Alexander waited.

Nothing.

He pulled the phone away from his ear and checked whether the call had somehow disconnected.

Still connected.

"Gio?"

"I’m here."

Alexander’s smile widened.

"That was a very long silence."

"I was considering my answer."

"That sounds dangerous."

Another pause.

Then Giovanni said, very calmly, "I can’t tell you what you can and cannot do."

"Obviously."

"But if you’re asking for my opinion, I’d rather you didn’t."

Alexander sat back.

"Why?"

"I dislike him hovering around you."

For a moment, Alexander genuinely didn’t know what to say.

Then he laughed.

"You’re jealous of Julian Park."

"Yes."

The immediate answer stopped Alexander’s laughter almost as quickly as it had started.

"Is that for real?"

"Yes."

"You’re serious?"

"Unfortunately."

Alexander couldn’t help laughing again.

Giovanni didn’t even try to deny it.

That was somehow the funniest part.

"May I recommend another architect?" Giovanni asked.

Alexander grinned. "What, someone married?"

"A woman."

That made him laugh harder.

"Gio."

"I know a very good female architect."

"You actually thought this through."

"I had several seconds."

Alexander shook his head.

"Fine. Send me her résumé by email."

"I will."

"Thanks, Gio."

Alexander still smiled as he looked at the photographs of his damaged workshop scattered across the desk.

The fire had already given him enough things to worry about.

Apparently, Julian Park wasn’t one of them.

"And don’t worry," Alexander added. "Julian doesn’t compare to you. Not even close."

The other end of the line went quiet again.

This silence felt different.

Alexander waited.

Finally, Giovanni spoke.

"Still, I’d rather not see him around you."

Alexander laughed under his breath.

Jealous Giovanni, apparently, was surprisingly unreasonable.

Alexander found that he didn’t mind nearly as much as he probably should have.