Grayson stared at the file Gloria had left on his light brain like it was a live bomb. Its pinkish color was practically mocking him.

Still, he managed to get the courage to pull up the file his mother had sent him. He scrolled through the first few pages with a mixture of dread and reluctant curiosity.

The table of contents alone made his left eye twitch.

Chapter One: Understanding Your Omega’s Emotional Needs

Section 1.1: The Importance of Active Listening

Section 1.2: Reading Between the Lines—What Your Omega Really Means When They Say ’I’m Fine’

Section 1.3: Why Your Alpha Instincts Are Probably Wrong (And How to Override Them)

...

Chapter Two: The Delicate Art of Scent Courtship

...

Chapter Three: Gift-Giving Protocols (With Subsections on Frequency, Appropriateness, and Recovery from Gift-Related Disasters)

...

Chapter Four: Physical Affection—A Masterful Approach

...

Chapter Five: Meeting the Parents (When You Are the Terrifying One)

...

The list continued for three more pages, and that was just the table of contents.

Absurd.

Utterly absurd.

Grayson had fought tooth and nail in several battlefields and gone through life and death situations. But none of that had prepared him for the experience of reading his mother’s detailed annotations inside the file.

"Remember, dear, omegas appreciate it when you remember the small details! Like their favorite tea!" read one note beside Chapter Two.

Another, underlined twice: "DO NOT use your ’General voice.’ It is NOT romantic."

He was halfway through scanning a particularly mortifying subsection titled "Compliments That Don’t Sound Like Performance Reviews."

The door slid open with a soft hiss.

Grayson quickly closed the file’s holographic display and lifted his head to see who had come inside. He really didn’t need to know who it was when he smelled the ocean dyeing the office with its scent.

Neville stepped inside, his hazel-brown hair slightly disheveled. His nerd glasses sat crooked on his nose. His ocean-blue eyes blinked at Grayson from behind those thick frames.

For a moment, Grayson forgot why he had summoned his secretary in the first place.

The small red mole under Neville’s right eye caught the light as he tilted his head. The sight of him like this stirred something unknown inside Grayson.

"You wanted to see me, Mr. Maxwell?"

"Yes." Grayson cleared his throat, forcing his gaze away from that mole. "There’s something we need to talk about."

Neville nodded and approached his desk carefully. He stood before the desk, those ocean blue eyes wary behind the lens of his glasses.

"Have a seat." Grayson gestured to the chair across from his desk.

Neville sat, his back straight, hands folded in his lap.

"Is there something wrong?" Neville asked, there was a hint of concern in his voice. "Did—"

"My mother," Grayson began, then paused, searching for the right words as he leaned back in his chair, "has taken quite a liking to you."

"Oh." A faint blush colored Neville’s cheeks; he tried to hide it, but Grayson noticed it anyway. "I—that’s very kind of her. I simply did my job, sir."

"Yes, well." Grayson drummed his fingers against the desk. "She’s also learned that you’re single."

The flush spread to Neville’s ears. His hands, previously relaxed, tightened in his lap.

"Mr. Maxwell—"

"I know this was the first time you’ve met," Grayson cut him off again. He steepled his fingers, looking at Neville intensely, which made the other a little uncomfortable. "But she already wants to introduce you to potential partners."

"I—" The color drained from Neville’s face as quickly as it had appeared. "What?"

"She’s concerned about your... romantic endeavors." The words tasted strange on Grayson’s tongue.

Neville’s expression changed through several emotions in the blink of an eye—surprise, confusion, embarrassment, and something that looked almost like panic.

"I—" Neville’s voice came out slightly higher than normal. He cleared his throat, stammering as his usual composure cracked in real time. "I appreciate Mrs. Maxwell’s concern, but I don’t have time for relationships right now."

Grayson opened his mouth to explain further, but Neville continued, the words tumbling out in an uncharacteristically flustered rush.

"If that’s why she invited me shopping tomorrow, then I should really decline the invitation. It wouldn’t be appropriate to waste her time when I have no intention of—"

"The shopping trip is fine," Grayson interrupted. "But there’s something else we need to discuss."

Neville wasn’t listening. He had leaned forward in his chair, his ocean-blue eyes wide with something approaching panic.

"Mr. Maxwell, I need you to understand—I’ve just been promoted to personal secretary. Starting a relationship now would be completely inappropriate. My focus should be entirely on my work, on proving that I deserve this position. I can’t afford any distractions, and I certainly can’t—"

"Hope."

"—give anyone the impression that my promotion was anything other than merit-based. You know how people talk. If word got out that your mother was matchmaking for me, they might think—"

"Neville."

The use of his first name finally broke through Neville’s spiraling monologue. He stopped mid-sentence, mouth still slightly open. He looked at Grayson with an expression that made Grayson’s chest tighten.

"I already spoke with my mother about this," Grayson said, keeping his tone casual. "I told her to stop meddling in other people’s relationships. Your personal life is your own business. I won’t let my mother parade my secretary around like merchandise at an auction."

Neville exhaled slowly, some of the tension draining from his shoulders. "Oh. I... thank you, Mr. Maxwell. I appreciate your consideration."

His reply did nothing to comfort the uncomfortable feeling lingering on Grayson’s chest.

"Don’t thank me yet," Grayson muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "My mother is a persistent type of person. The shopping trip tomorrow will likely involve subtle interrogation about your romantic preferences."

"I’m... familiar with tactical questioning, I can probably manage that. " Neville said carefully, and was that a hint of amusement in his voice?

"I know that you will do well on that." He said, looking directly at Neville’s eyes, struggling to say something. "But there’s a problem..."

Neville’s guard immediately went back up.

"Even if I were in a relationship," Neville quickly said, "I would never let it affect my work. You have my word on that."

His eyebrows drew together. "So you are in a relationship?"

"No!" The word abruptly burst out of Neville, his cheeks flushed again. He looked away, clearly mortified by his own outburst. "No, I’m not. I was speaking hypothetically."

Grayson felt relieved hearing that.

Why?

He secretly shook his head and said, "Good."

Then, before he could second-guess himself: "Then let’s go out."