Help Me Remember (COMPLETED)

Chapter 43

Zach

Zachary Christopher Harrington.

There was a pause in my head. A quick of everything in the back of my mind for this man.

I stared at those blue eyes.

But nothing.

"We should sit down," Zachary continued, tugging on my hand in his, "You look ready to faint."

My eyes fell where our fingers were touching and slowly nodded. And as if suddenly, the faux strength holding me up was quickly being drained out of my body.

The man was quick, catching my shoulders and holding me up, against him. I didn't have the mind to be embarrassed by the show's weakness and our sudden position. It was out of politeness that I uttered, "I'm sorry. I don't think I could process enough for a decent conversation tonight."

Zachary Harrington didn't reply. The man looked to the room attendant who hastily went to the table and pulled a chair for me. Zachary mostly carried my weight as took me to the table and when he helped me to my seat, he did so carefully. He grabbed the champagne flute on stand by and handed it to me.

"Drink it, Red. That will help you relax."

Normally, I would never accept any form of alcoholic beverage from a stranger. But as I looked at the slight worry on his eyebrows, I subconsciously made an exception and took the flute to my lips.

It was one of those curiously fruity flavors that didn't taste like alcohol at all. My head tilted back then to empty the contents of the glass. There was an almost immediate spreading of warmth down my throat to my chest to my stomach. A sigh left my lips.

"Better?" Zachary asked.

I peeked up at him. Those eyes were so blue, almost luminescent in that tinge. And when they searched my face, the concern could pass for genuine by all accounts.

Which brought back the reminder of why I was here.

Of who he was supposed to be considering what my daddy said earlier.

It was stupid on my part. But my heart squeezed at the quick thoughts of the why's he was being so nice to me. And none of them too good.

How much had my dad offered this man that he would be willing to marry me out of the blue? Was this a front that would last just a few days, months or how long it was until he secured marriage with me? And if this kindness was a front, how would he treat me further on?

I looked away from those compelling eyes and turned to the long table. We were only occupying one edge, him at the head and me on his right side, "Are we expecting anyone else?"

"None that I know of," was the quick response.

My head whipped back in his direction, "Even my dad? He came here with me."

Zach took the glass in front of him and took a sip. "Not even your dad."

So if dad wasn't coming...

I turned to him fully, my voice coming out low. "Then I assume you've seen the articles by now. Why be so nice when no one's looking?"

There was a pause, an almost silence as he processed my question. To his credit, the stranger didn't bat his eyes at the question. He stared back at me with an analytical look on his face. Then he leaned back against his chair.

"You really don't remember me, do you, Red?"

That wasn't the answer I was expecting. It threw me a little. And that nickname too.