Zayn halted abruptly as someone else raced past him, the face barely registering to Zayn. He caught his very distinguishable features, his eyes sharp and beautiful, and his gait perfected for a runway. It was glaring that he was either a model or a fashion enthusiast, with his bold choice of clothing, and his tall, impressive gait. If Zayn was a woman, he would have agreed that the right word for him was ‘sexy.’
He must have seen him somewhere, because it ticked his senses and his brain tried to nudge something in his direction. Coming up empty, Zayn shrugged it away. If he was important, there was no way he would have been going through so much just trying to remember who the hell he was.
But coupled with that was Zayn’s disgruntlement as he watched the scene unfolding before him. The man had reached the stage, planting himself between Kayla and Rina. He leaned closer to Rina, putting his arms around her shivering frame, and whispered something into her ears.
The skin on Zayn’s forehead scrunched up in confusion and displacement as he noticed that whatever the man said had gotten Rina back on her feet. The shaking stopped and she stood straighter, nodding at something else he was saying.
Zayn felt something bizarre go through him suddenly. He wasn’t used to feeling this way, couldn’t categorize what exactly plagued him. All he was certain of was the fact that the more he watched, the more he felt like punching something.
And that would do no good to Rina.
Rina and the man walked out through the side door, and Zayn moved at once, his men flanking him on both sides. Usually, he preferred to go see Rina without them because he didn’t know how she would respond to strangers.
But he hadn’t considered the possibility of seeing Rina there at the panel session. Zayn was stunned when he noticed her sitting at the back. Their eyes had met briefly, and if it had been his turn to speak, he just might have stammered a little. He had taken his eyes off her immediately, refraining from looking that way for the rest of the session.
Now, he regretted it. Maybe if he had caught her eyes again, and signaled to her that whatever she had planned was probably a bad decision, she might have listened to him and the situation wouldn’t have escalated to that point.
It was a laughable thought. If the situation had been any different, Zayn’s lips would have risen in humor. One thing he knew about Rina was that she didn’t take well to instructions. Stubbornness had ingrained itself deep into her that if she didn’t see reasons why she needed to listen to anyone, she stuck to her own ideas and plans.
She sure as hell wouldn’t have listened to him. Zayn found it both exciting and infuriating.
Heading to the entrance, Zayn walked through the throng of fans and guests alike as his man created a path for him, steering everyone out of the way. His steps didn’t falter for a second as he took the turning to the left, stopping in front of the side door.
Rina and the man stepped out a minute later. She looked considerably better than she had inside, but the weariness on her face couldn’t be hidden. She hadn’t seen him yet. Her face was glued to the ground as if scared of what the world might throw at her if she suddenly appeared before them.
“Rina.”
Her face shot up at once, apprehension registering in her eyes. She looked from the man beside her to Zayn in panic, her brain attempting a way out of the newly developed situation.
Of course, Zayn thought. She didn’t want to be seen in public with him. It was one thing he would never understand. Any other woman in her place would be so giddy at the prospect of him even uttering her name, yet here he was, in front of a woman he was about to get married to, yet who was scared that people would think her success story was attributed to him?
Who the fuck even cared about that?
“Zayn Graham!” The man muttered in surprise and pleasure. The relief on Rina’s face was palpable. “Holy Molly! I have been a huge fan of yours since you started Graham’s Conglomerates and I have been trying to get into your sponsorship program, but I keep getting these emails of being placed in a waiting list.”
“You are?”
“Sorry.” He flashed a wide grin on his face and held out his hand for a handshake, but Zayn totally ignored both him and his gesture.
He turned to Rina, his eyes asking whether he should intervene or not. Zayn desperately wanted to do something. He hated being kept on the sidelines like this, while the whole world went on without him.
But Rina’s response was clear and sharp, with a subtle shake of her head. Her eyes also told him she was wondering why he was ignoring the man who had come out with her, but even Zayn didn’t have a response to that.
He stuck a tongue in his cheek and then set his lips in grim determination after a second. Zayn knew he had to respect Rina’s choices, no matter how weird they sounded to him. He couldn’t promise her that he was going to stay that way forever, but he was going to give her what she wanted.
For now.
Zayn turned around to leave, when the man mumbled, “I’m Joel Osteen! Just in case you decide to go through the waiting list yourself.”
It took a lot of courage for Joel to put those words out, evident from the rise and fall of his chest, and his shaky sigh. However, Zayn didn’t pause even for a second, continuing at the same pace out of their sight. His men went before him, walking him to his sports car.
But suddenly, Zayn stopped one of them from getting behind the wheel. “I have a personal business to attend to,” he said. “I’ll be going alone from here.”