[BL] Transmigrated as the Villain CEO's Mermaid Secretary

Grayson stared at the photos shown by the light brain.

He already knew the existence of the other photo. But this other one was new.

It was a picture of himself, asleep with his head resting on what appeared to be someone’s shoulder. The angle suggested the photographer had been on the photographer’s shoulder.

His face, even in sleep, looked so peaceful and unguarded beside this person. Since it was with Neville, he figured that it was Neville who took this photo.

The problem was when?

He couldn’t remember being this close to Neville, ever.

Unless...

His eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Then, he glanced back at Liam’s photo in the collection of photos on the background, as if his gaze could bore a hole in Liam’s smiling face in the image.

"When did Neville take a photo of Liam?" The words came out colder than intended.

Gloria blinked, clearly not expecting him to notice that background guy’s photo. "I don’t know! Why are you asking—THAT’s not the point—" So that’s Liam, huh.

"When did they get close enough for Neville to take his photo?" Grayson murmured with his eyes having a sharp edge. "That must have been when..."

"Grayson—"

"I need to take Neville out."

Gloria paused mid-protest. "...What?"

"Somewhere nice. Better than that place." Grayson was already reaching for his light brain, pulling up his calendar. "And definitely better than where we went last time."

"Well." Gloria sat back, looking somewhat thrown by this sudden change. "That’s—yes. That’s exactly what I’ve been saying."

"I’ll need recommendations." Grayson’s fingers flew across the interface. "Mother, you know his preferences better than I do now, even though you’ve just met recently. What does he like? What are his interests outside of work?"

Gloria stared at her son for a long moment. He had gone from defensive and indecisive to focused with the speed of a predator locking onto prey.

It was rather impressive.

But also slightly concerning, but she’d take what she could get.

"He cooks better than Interstellaire Garden," she offered. "But you’ve already taken him to Medea’s Garden, so that’s a no-go."

Grayson nodded in agreement

"He appreciates thoughtfulness over expense. The gifts he seemed most touched by today weren’t the expensive ones, but they were the ones that I carefully picked as I matched them to him." 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

Nodding again.

"And—" She leaned forward, sensing that now was the time to press her advantage. "There are some things you should know about proper courtship, since you clearly missed that lesson somewhere, even though I already gave you a guide."

Grayson’s eyes lifted to meet his mother’s gaze, "I didn’t miss—"

"Flowers. But not generic ones—"

"He doesn’t like flowers." Grayson was quick to reply, clearly certain about this fact for some reason.

Gloria just raised an eyebrow and continued. "Okay, well then. Don’t shower him with gifts since we just went on a shopping spree today. As I already told you, he doesn’t care about those stuffs."

"I know."

"Listen when he talks," Gloria emphasized, "and remember what he says so you will know what to do next time. Speak too if it’s too silent. Asking about his day is a good start, but don’t be too by the book in this."

What could he even talk about? Work?

But if he really said that he would talk about work, he had a feeling that his mother would scold him to no end.

"And for heaven’s sake, Grayson—touch him sometimes."

Grayson raised an eyebrow and asked, like it was an alien word, "Touch?" Where? His waist? Would a kiss do?

Gloria, as if already scolding Grayson’s dirty brain, instantly flushed those unnecessary thoughts. "Appropriately. Holding hands or a hand on his shoulder. Standing close. Let him know you’re interested in him without being crude about it."

Seeing Grayson nodding, Gloria had to suppress a smile. She found this whole conversation funny, but couldn’t outright laugh.

"What else?" he asked after taking notes.

"Make him laugh. You used to be funny, before the military beat it out of you." At his flat look, she shrugged and said lightly, "It was true! Want me to show you your childhood clips—Oh! I should’ve shown it to Neville earlier!"

Foreseeing his doomed future, Grayson shook his head and pulled the conversation back to the important part.

"And the date itself?"

Gloria tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Find somewhere private but not isolated. He’ll sure be nervous or conscious in public, but he clearly doesn’t mind a little public attention. If you’re both in somewhere too intimate too soon, his mind would probably go haywire—"

"Isn’t that good?" Grayson murmured to himself, thinking of how he could have Neville by himself like when they were in the office.

But Gloria heard loud and clear. She couldn’t help but slap Grayson’s thigh hard enough that it stung. "Don’t just think with your lower body!"

Grayson stared back wide-eyed.

He wasn’t really thinking about something dirty. He just thought that being alone like usual would be awesome.

What was his mother thinking?

"Either way, choose somewhere that doesn’t overlap with any of the places he has been to!"

Grayson nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful.

It was harder than he expected.

Gloria felt a surge of hope.

Maybe her idiot son wasn’t completely hopeless after all.

"And Grayson?"

"Yes?"

"Don’t mess this up." Her voice softened slightly.

"I know," Grayson said, his voice quieter than usual.

Gloria rose from the couch, gathering her things with satisfaction. Her son stood as well, ever the gentleman like Neville, despite his emotional constipation.

"I’ll expect progress reports," she informed him. "Weekly updates, at minimum."

"Mother, can you not—"

"Weekly. Updates." Gloria emphasized with a stern voice.

Grayson sighed. "Fine."

Gloria patted his cheek and smiled. "Good son. Now get some beauty sleep and plan everything tomorrow with a refreshed mind."

○●○●

Now alone in his penthouse, Grayson stood motionless for a long moment. His mother’s words echoed in the silence, each one made him uncomfortable to remember.

He pulled up the image—one that he secretly sent to himself—that his mother had shown him from his light brain, looking at it with fresh eyes.

No matter how suspicious Neville was, it was already too late for him to stop his feelings now.

If it’s do or die.

Then, let’s do it.