Sometimes you need a little fake dating corporate espionage

[fanoperator]

Huaisang knows that he's being extremely rude showing up with no notice, especially to someone who values privacy as much as Mr. Hands does. But he's desperate, and Mr. Hands is his best bet for several reasons.

He waits to be allowed in, arms hugged across his chest as he vibrates with nerves. Despite being a wealthy and spoiled young man with a known taste for fashion, today he's very simply dressed in plain gray slacks and a white shirt, and his hair is pulled up into a bun at the back of his head and tied with a white ribbon, nothing like the intricate Nie clan braided bun or some of the more flashy styles Huaisang sometimes plays with. He is grieving, after all--his brother's death is extremely recent, of the same illness that took their father fifteen years ago--but this is more than that. He wanted to be overlooked today, and he's good at knowing how to be overlooked.

As soon as he's let in, Huaisang greets his host with a brief formal bow, starting to speak before he's fully risen from the bow. "Thank you for agreeing to see me, Mr. Hands. I hope you'll forgive me for not messaging you in advance, I'm afraid I forgot my phone at home." He's quivering where he stands, thinking that he should probably sit down before he shakes apart, but his voice is steady, with a matter-of-fact air to it that he doesn't think Mr. Hands has ever heard from him before. Very, very few people ever have heard such a tone from him before. When he's seen Mr. Hands in the past, Huaisang has only been his brother's shadow, ostensibly learning the family business--steel and silver mines grown into a powerful metal and industrial corporation--but always shy and skittish, disinterested in practicalities and responsibility. Huaisang still remains intensely disinterested in those things, but he has always been more observant than anyone realized, and he's long since made an art of getting what he wants while letting other people think it was their idea. But here and now, he cannot rely upon manipulation and misdirection. If he wants Hands to help him, he needs to be forthright about the what and the why. Huaisang needs to be able to trust someone, so he hopes he's gambled right.

"I'm no good with tech. If someone has made the effort to put a tracker on my phone, I'd be unlikely to notice it. I took two different taxis to get here. If you refuse my request, then I don't want anyone knowing that I came to you. I..." Huaisang sways a little on his feet, feeling overwhelmed by grief, rage, terror, and a dozen other emotions. "May I have a drink?"

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[fixerbrew]

Satisfied that Huaisang will be taken care of, Hands returns to his office and attends the rest of his appointments for the day. The apartment he stays in is relatively closeby and it's just as well since he's hardly ever available for sleep until the early hours.

Despite the late finish he's at the villa perfectly on time the next morning, his suit a beautiful navy pinstripe that was as expensive as it looks. He's holding onto a tablet as he walks in, stride every bit as confident as he feels given what a momentous day it's likely to be.

Wherever Huaisang may be, Hands has him brought to the more formal sitting room, sipping at a tiny espresso - not tea for now - with the smooth sounds of what sounds like forest noises playing ambiently through the sound system.

"Ah, good morning. How did you sleep?"

[fanoperator]

Once Huaisang is settled safely into the comfort of his new room, he goes first to the bath, sinking down into the warm water and letting himself weep. He doesn't know how much time passes like that, but he feels entirely shriveled by the time that he staggers out of the tub and dries off, curling into bed still soggy and pulling the covers up over his head.

He expects to sleep, feeling more exhausted by his emotions than he can remember being in his life, and more time slips away as he lays there blankly under the covers, mind empty. But sooner than he would have expected, his brain starts to boot up again, supplying points to worry about, fears to stress over, important details to remember. As those start to build, stacking one upon the other, he pushes himself up out of the bed and pulls on a robe, taking the time to rub lotion into his skin while he puts his worries and details together into priorities and plans.

Ringing for the assistant who has been set as his keeper, Huaisang requests dinner and paper to start with, and then to speak to Antonio once those things are delivered.

"I'd like to call the Nie Estate to speak to Zonghui, who manages my estate there," Huaisang explains, having carefully planned out what he wants to say. He's aware of the delicate line of being able to trust Hands' security but also the importance of secrecy regarding the things he's told Hands and the specific nature of their arrangement. "He'll be worried about me, I left suddenly and I left my phone behind. I'll ask him to pack a bag for me with a few things that I'd like to have. I think that Mr. Hands wanted to have my phone checked, as well, to ensure that it doesn't have any trackers or, I don't know. Spy ... recording ... stuff? And he might have wanted to put a tracker of his own, I think?" Huaisang bites his lip, all uncertainty, even though he knows perfectly well that his words will get Antonio to have Hands' people check the phone, and for Antonio to check with Hands about what trackers or bugs he would like put on the phone, to report on Huaisang's unworried acceptance of that possibility. "You should probably save Zonghui's contact information after I talk to him. He can provide just about any access that Hands or I might require."

He makes the call in front of Antonio, expecting that Antonio will report to Hands on some or all of what Huaisang says or does. The bargain he's made requires that he has no secrets from Hands and no privacy. The better Hands can monitor him, the better Hands will be able to protect him. In addition to that, despite the massive amounts of trust that Huaisang's placing in him, he's aware that Hands has relatively little reason to trust Huaisang in return. He's proven himself to be dangerous and subtle, and so he assumes Hands will be reassessing Huaisang's capabilities, analyzing what he says and how much he's lying, and constantly checking for any motivations that Huaisang might have that he hasn't been honest about. And any time that Hands spends worrying about that is time away from carrying out Huaisang's priorities. So he'll make himself as transparent and available as possible, and expect none of the same in return.

The call is relatively straightforward, requesting a few days worth of clothes and toiletries. He has to repeatedly reassure Zonghui that he really is safe, he hasn't been kidnapped, and offers a memory as proof: Do you remember when Wei Wuxian and I snuck off and I forgot to tell anyone and Mingjue was so worried because he thought I'd been kidnapped, but we'd just been at a games center driving go-karts? I was safe then, I'm safe now. It makes for an easy coded communication, since Zonghui knows it's an example of a time Huaisang had gone somewhere of his own will and he'd been safe. That's all he needs or wants to communicate. He's safe, he's doing this of his own volition. He trusts Zonghui more than anyone, and yet. Just a few years ago, Meng Yao had held Zonghui's job, and Huaisang would have said that he trusted Meng Yao with his life.

Huaisang has learned now not to trust anyone.

He leaves it up to Antonio to arrange whether the bag will be picked up or delivered, and assumes that his things will be very thoroughly searched before they're actually brought to his room.

Then he picks up the paper he requested and gets to work.

On each page he puts a name and a brief little portrait sketch. They're light caricatures, features exaggerated just enough to make them more recognizable, and Huaisang is a good enough artist that each portrait is recognizable with only just a few lines to shape them. Next to the portraits, he starts building out quick facts from what he knows on each member of the board of directors and the additional C-suite execs who he expects will be present but do not have seats on the board.

As he told Hands, he doesn't understand business, but he does understand people. For each profile, he outlines their role of the company, his (limited) perspective on their competence within that role, their other business interests, family and social connections, flaws and weaknesses, and any additional known motivations or influences.

In the morning, Huaisang dresses in a manner that's still very restrained, though there's more expense and flowing fabrics involved, closer to his normal apparel. He puts his hair up in intricate braids, precisely matching his brother's traditional braids, though he secures it again with a plain white ribbon rather than any of his usual ornaments. His eyes are still a little red-rimmed and puffy, but he otherwise looks elegantly composed. The composition says socialite rather than businessman, but that's the result Huaisang wants. He wants to be seen as lovely, expensive, a dutiful heir to the Nie family, but still frivolous enough to be incapable of making his own business decisions.

He yawns his way through breakfast, used to sleeping in past nine rather than being up and breakfasted and ready before seven, and he's still yawning as he's brought in to where Hands is. He sees the espresso, antithetical to Huaisang's love of pleasure and sweets, and requests a cinnamon sugar cappuccino for himself, biting his lip with shy, yielding sweetness as he requests anything from the servants.

As he settles into a chair opposite Hands, Huaisang holds out the stack of profiles that he's put together, papers folded so that their contents are hidden. He doesn't know--or particularly care--whether Hands will copy or destroy this information after Huaisang has given it to him, but he's at least taken care not to allow even Antonio a glimpse. The information is for Hands alone, to do with as he pleases.

"I ... I slept all right. Everything has been lovely and I've been well cared for, thank you, Mr. Hands." Huaisang licks his lower lip again, that frequent tic of his, betraying a clear oral fixation. "This is who I expect to be present at the meeting and the highlights of what I know about them. If you want more of the softer details, things like Ouyang Zongzhu never misses his son's hockey games, I can provide what I know in more detail, but I thought it was better to stick to business profiles to get started." He's aware that Hands may already know details about at least some of the attendees, but Huaisang again chose to be thorough in order to make sure that Hands has all the data he needs.