Chapter 162: A Parade

Giovanni and Alexander woke the next morning to the unmistakable rumble of the rented shuttle bus pulling onto the property.

The engine was loud enough to reach them inside the ancestral home, and it came with an irritating metallic rattle whenever the driver eased off the accelerator.

Alexander frowned.

That was going to be a problem.

The ancestral home was still operating as a bed-and-breakfast, and the last thing their guests needed on a Sunday morning was a shuttle with what sounded like a dying muffler announcing the workers’ arrival.

Bob would have to ask the rental company for another vehicle, preferably one that didn’t wake half the property.

By the time Alexander and Giovanni made their way downstairs, the shuttle had parked near the designated work area. One by one, the passengers climbed out carrying tool bags and packed lunches for the day.

More noticeable, however, was the fact that they actually looked like a proper work crew now.

Every worker wore a shirt printed with the Second Life Workshop name, along with a safety helmet and proper safety shoes. Even those carrying nothing more dangerous than a packed lunch had arrived dressed and equipped for work.

Alexander stopped to take it all in.

Yesterday, they’d looked like a group of workers preparing to rehabilitate an abandoned warehouse. Today, with their matching shirts and safety gear, they looked considerably more official.

Almost like a company parade.

"Bob."

The young man immediately approached him.

"You did it. You actually got everyone in uniform."

"Yes, boss. All the shirt sizes were available, so they only had to add the company name." Bob looked rather pleased with himself. "I took the liberty of having shirts prepared for you and Elias too."

"Not bad. Quick thinking."

The shuttle chose that moment to produce another deep growl behind them.

Alexander glanced toward the guest wing.

"Now I’d like you to ask the rental company for another shuttle. Preferably one that doesn’t wake up my mother’s guests every morning."

Bob grimaced. "I noticed it too. I’ll call them right away, boss."

Fortunately, the workers themselves were considerably quieter than their transportation.

It was Sunday, and Alexander hadn’t expected them to accomplish much beyond settling in and familiarizing themselves with the property. Instead, they’d decided to start cleaning the warehouse so they could determine exactly what materials they’d need for repairs.

Mario, one of the most senior workers, naturally took charge as foreman. Another worker with considerable masonry experience stepped in as leadman, and everyone else seemed perfectly content with the arrangement.

Within an hour, years of accumulated dust and useless debris had begun disappearing from the warehouse. The workers were also conscious of where they were, keeping their voices down and postponing anything particularly noisy.

They had a workshop to prepare without disrupting the bed-and-breakfast his parents still needed to run.

By midmorning, Mario handed Bob a list of materials, tools, and small equipment needed for the first repairs. Bob immediately started making calls and found a nearby hardware supplier open on Sundays that promised to deliver everything before closing.

The next problem was considerably more visible.

Although the warehouse was tucked away from the ancestral home, portions of the worksite were still visible from areas frequented by guests.

Fortunately, the workers had already noticed.

The Vance nursery had mature shrubs in large pots and several young trees growing in barrels, all of which could be moved without permanently planting anything.

Mario asked Bob to check with Alexander.

"They want to use the plants as a temporary screen," Bob explained. "Just along this section. It should block most of the construction area from the guest side."

Alexander looked between the nursery and the warehouse.

"That could work."

Only one person’s permission mattered.

Rosalie agreed almost immediately.

"Just don’t damage anything."

"We won’t."

"Don’t block the paths either, and those flowering shrubs stay where they are."

Alexander stared at her. "Anything else?"

"No."

He waited.

Rosalie thought about it.

"Actually—"

"Mom."

"All right. That’s all."

Permission secured, another procession began.

Workers rolled young trees across the property while others carried large potted shrubs into position. From a distance, it looked like an extremely slow parade of greenery being escorted by men in matching Second Life Workshop shirts.

The result was surprisingly effective.

The plants formed a natural screen between the worksite and the areas guests frequented. It wouldn’t hide everything once construction properly started, but for now, anyone looking toward the warehouse would see greenery before construction materials.

Rosalie eventually came outside to inspect their work.

"Better."

Coming from his mother, Alexander took that as high praise.

With the workshop temporarily under control, he went looking for Giovanni and found him in the kitchen.

Apparently, Giovanni had made the mistake of telling Rosalie he was available.

"I’d like to help," Giovanni said.

"I was hoping you’d say that."

Rosalie pointed toward an apron hanging nearby.

"No need. I brought mine."

Alexander leaned against the doorway and watched Giovanni unfold a considerably larger apron.

"You brought an apron?"

Giovanni looked at him. "Yes."

"To my parents’ bed-and-breakfast?"

"I’ve been here before."

That explained absolutely nothing, but Rosalie had already moved on.

"Start with the dough. You handle that side, and I’ll take care of this one."

Giovanni washed his hands and got to work.

Alexander remained in the doorway for a moment, watching the CEO of Mercer Group comfortably prepare bread in his mother’s kitchen while his employees moved trees around outside.

Somehow, this didn’t even feel particularly strange anymore.

"You planning to help?" Rosalie asked.

Alexander immediately straightened.

"I have a construction site."

"Convenient."

"It requires supervision."

"So does my kitchen."

Giovanni didn’t even attempt to defend him.

Traitor.

Alexander returned to the warehouse.

By lunchtime, Bob had placed the material orders, the warehouse was considerably cleaner, and the workers had begun organizing the temporary restoration floor and storage areas.

Alexander and Giovanni finally sat down for a late brunch.

They’d hoped to find a chance to speak privately with Rosalie and Alejandro about their marriage plans, but Sunday turned out to be one of the busiest days at the bed-and-breakfast. Rosalie stayed in the kitchen while Alejandro moved between the cashier and front counter.

"We’ll tell them tonight," Alexander decided.

Giovanni nodded.

He would have to return to the city afterward. Tomorrow was Monday, and unlike today, Giovanni had an actual company to run.

Mercer Group, not Rosalie Vance’s bed-and-breakfast.

Elias had already offered to drive him back and return to the ancestral property the following morning.

By nightfall, the estate finally settled down.

The Second Life workers had quietly occupied the existing bunkhouse, while a few temporarily stayed in the cleaned portion of the warehouse until the sleeping arrangements could be improved. Compared with their first visit, the area already looked considerably more habitable.

Rosalie and Alejandro eventually stepped onto the veranda after attending to the last guest. Giovanni was already there with a cup of coffee, and Alexander joined them a few minutes later with his hair still damp from a quick shower.

"Dad. Mom."

Both looked at him.

"There’s something, Giovanni, and I want to tell you before he goes back to the city."

Rosalie’s attention immediately sharpened.

Alexander glanced at Giovanni, who set down his coffee.

"I’d like to marry Alex."

There was a brief silence.

Then Rosalie asked, "When?"

Alexander almost laughed.

Apparently, his mother had no interest in wasting time being surprised.

He looked at Giovanni.

They hadn’t chosen an exact date yet, but after last night’s conversation, neither of them wanted to leave the wedding floating indefinitely somewhere in the future.

"Within the next few months," Alexander answered. "Definitely no longer than six."

Alejandro frowned slightly. "What happens after six months?"

"Nothing, actually." Alexander smiled. "I just think we’ve waited long enough."

That seemed to satisfy him.

Rosalie had already moved ahead.

"Where do you plan to marry?"

"We can register at the Marriage Bureau." Alexander paused. "I’m quite popular over there."

His mother gave him a look while Giovanni lowered his cup, suspiciously close to smiling.

"And afterward," Giovanni added, "we were thinking of having an intimate reception here at the estate, if you’d allow it."

"Of course."

"Just a few people from each side," Alexander said. "Nothing extravagant."

Rosalie didn’t answer.

Alexander narrowed his eyes. "Mom."

"I didn’t say anything."

"That worries me more."

Alejandro chuckled.

Alexander turned to Giovanni. "How many relatives would you invite from your side?"

The question slipped out before he properly considered it.

"None."

Alexander went quiet.

"My parents are gone," Giovanni said simply. "And Arturo was the last person I would’ve wanted there."

Alexander knew that, but hearing it while they were discussing their wedding made the reality feel different.

Giovanni’s parents wouldn’t be there, and neither would Arturo, the man they’d buried only yesterday.

Alexander reached for his hand.

"You won’t be standing there alone."

Giovanni looked at him. "I know."

Rosalie’s expression softened.

"This will be your family’s home too," she said. "Invite whoever you want."

Giovanni was quiet for a moment, then nodded.

"Thank you."

They left the guest list for another day.

For tonight, telling Alexander’s parents was enough.

Eventually, Rosalie and Alejandro said goodnight and returned inside. Not long afterward, headlights flashed from the driveway, Elias’s discreet signal that the car was ready whenever Giovanni was.

"I should go."

Alexander walked him down from the veranda and stopped beside the waiting car.

He wrapped his arms around Giovanni.

"Goodnight, Gio."

"Goodnight, Alex."

Alexander stepped back. "I’ll call you tomorrow."

"You usually do."

Alexander smiled.

Giovanni climbed into the car, and Alexander remained where he was as Elias drove toward the property gates.

By tomorrow, Bob would hopefully have a shuttle that didn’t announce its arrival to the entire estate, and the warehouse repairs could properly begin.

Alexander had something considerably more important to start planning.

His wedding.