Chapter 6

Harry watched Zahra walking down the street, her breath hanging in the cold air, the way her curly hair flowing out from under her tuque bounced with each step, but the moment that he most anticipated was when she looked up, recognized him, and broke out into the warmest smile he had ever seen. That moment when their eyes met and everything else just blurred out of focus. Zahra's pace quickened a bit, and then she was standing before him, still gazing into his face.

"Hey, how are you?" Harry asked as he pulled her into a hug.

Zahra was surprised. He had never embraced her like that before, holding her so close, his breath in her hair. "I'm alright. I missed you though."

"I missed you," he whispered back, barely audible, before he released her.

"How was France?"

"Stressful. I had to represent the company in a private negotiation. My dad sent his assistant out to monitor me; we don't really get along. How have things been with you?"

"Same old – coursework, job, keeping my head down."

"You know what we need?" he asked her. She looked at him quizzically and he answered his own question: "A vacation."

Zahra gave a sigh. "I'll have to wait until I grad."

"I'm serious! A week wouldn't hurt. A weekend even."

"And where would we go?"

"What about skiing in Austria? We could stay at some posh place."

"Just the two of us?"

"In separate rooms," he said with a mischievous smirk.

Zahra blushed.

"Oh, and Brady. He's always along for the ride."

"Well, it does sound really nice…"

Harry took her gloved hand and deftly nestled it in the crook of his arm as they strolled along. "I just want to get away for a bit, and I want to take you with me. I'll start looking for the perfect place. Until then, let's get something to eat."

A late lunch and a bit of sightseeing had the two of them out into the evening, and both of them yawning already. Brady was on his way to get them, but it was still going to be a twenty minute wait, as he had been taking care of some business for Harry. Still arm-in-arm, they chatted as they walked, but gradually Zahra became aware of another presence.

"Harry," she whispered, "I think we're being followed."

His brows furrowed as he looked into her anxious eyes. "What makes you say that?"

"That man behind us has been trailing us the last couple blocks."

"Are you sure?"

"He stops whenever we do, and is staying pretty close. I'm used to walking around by myself and needing to be alert."

Harry stole a glance back at the pursuer in question. "Probably a photographer. Just follow my lead."

He grasped her hand as soon as they rounded the corner and they jogged partway down the block before ducking into a store.

"I'll watch the window," he said. "Would you ask an employee for directions on how to get to the area Brady will meet us? Maybe they'll know a shortcut or something."

Zahra quickly found an employee and was back in a minute with information. "Let's go, I know a faster way now. Harry, is being followed like this normal for you?"

"Well, uh… kind of?" was his tentative response.

At a brisk pace, they walked over to meeting point where Brady would pick them up, which happened to be next to one of Berlin's many museums. Suddenly Zahra let out a shriek of fright as someone grabbed her arm. Harry spun around and saw the man who had been following them trying to drag away the struggling girl. He sprang into action and landed a punch squarely on the man's jaw as Zahra pulled away from the man's grip. The man staggered back only momentarily, then rushed at him. Harry blocked the hits before planting a foot into his attacker's torso that sent him flying backward.

"Harry, behind you!" Zahra shouted, as another adversary came on the scene and tried to assault the young man.

They struggled until Harry snatched the revolver that had been holstered under the man's coat. Pointing the weapon unflinchingly at his assailant, Harry backed away with Zahra safely behind him.

The standoff didn't last more than a few moments, because two vehicles pulled up nearby and several men ran in their direction, with Brady leading the charge. The assistant gave orders in German to the burly men accompanying him, and they swiftly hauled the two attackers away without much of a discussion.

"It looks like you had things in hand," Brady commented as he took the revolver from Harry and passed it to the accompanying security. "Did they hurt either of you?"

Harry looked at Zahra. "Are you alright?"

She was trembling and near to tears. "No! What was all of that about?"

"I suggest we get into the car first," Brady interjected.

Once they were in the quiet interior of the car, Harry explained. "They were henchmen sent by someone that my father's company is disputing with. There were some issues in France, and they were probably going to try to kidnap me."

"That's crazy! What is your father involved in that you are put into this kind of danger?!"

"A lot of stuff – technology, medicine, chemistry… But there are enemies sometimes."

Zahra shuddered. "I want to go home."

"Zahra…" Harry started, but she cut him off.

"I just want to go home."

When they arrived at her house, she got out of the car without a word, but Harry jumped out after her and tried to catch her arm.

"Zahra, just wait a moment!" he implored.

She shook him off. "Harry, that scared the life out of me! What if you had gotten hurt, or they abducted us? It's not okay to be in that kind of danger."

"But nothing happened, we're both fine!"

"Good night, Harry." She turned away and went inside, leaving him out in the cold.

It had been a while since he had consumed that much alcohol, and it was setting in hard. Harry sat on the floor of his hotel suite, bottle in hand, staring at nothing in particular. He wasn't even aware of Brady entering the suite until he was right beside him.

"You're still up?" Harry asked, his voice thick.

"Just wanted to see if there was anything you needed," was the simple reply.

"You wanted to make sure I wasn't unconscious."

"That too."

"I screwed this up. She's gone. I didn't want to tell her who I am, and this is what I get. Why can't I just have a normal life?!" Harry shouted and threw a cushion across the room.

"I'm not sure she's actually gone," Brady remarked.

"Of course she is! Zahra was totally freaked out. I can't do this without her," he muttered, tears starting to run down his face. "I really can't do this without her. She makes everything alright. I can sleep, I can laugh, I can feel…" His bloodshot eyes focused on his loyal assistant. "Get out, I don't need your pity."

Brady crouched and kept his demeanour calm. "She's just scared. Remember, you've been trained for that, but experiencing that kind of violence isn't normal for most people. Just give her time to process and then talk to her. If I'm wrong, fire me."

"Fine," Harry said through gritting teeth. "But leave me alone."

"Get yourself on this sofa first. I've never left you passed-out drunk on the floor and I'm not going to start now."

With much groaning, Harry hauled himself up onto the sofa and collapsed there. He was vaguely aware of a blanket being placed on his person, but other than that, he was soon dead to the world.

"You look awful."

"Thanks."

"That's what happens when you're out at all hours though."

"I'm a busy person."

"Not too busy to spend time with boys though."

Zahra rolled her eyes. The lack of actual concern in her mother's attitude was as disappointing as it was expected. She had woken up with puffy eyes from crying herself to sleep, and was trying to assemble a breakfast that she could force herself to eat.

"Boys?" a third voice chimed in, "Is that boy from last night is your boyfriend?"

"It's none of your business," she addressed her stepfather.

"How did you get yourself a rich boyfriend like that? I watched the security video. The fancy car with a driver? That was no taxi. He looked like a trust-fund kid."

Zahra shrugged.

"After you rejected the lawyer's son, you're spending time with some trashy kid like that?" her stepfather continued. "Rich kids like him are only into drinks, drugs, and controversy. You're better off now that he's tired of you."

"You don't know anything about people in my life; what gives you the right to judge them?"

"People like him just use up others and then discard them. You shouldn't have let him up your skirt."

Zahra threw the plate she had been holding onto the floor and stormed from the room.

Restless. From the moment he had awakened to his hung-over reality, he couldn't stop thinking of everything that he should have said and done differently. He should have just explained what his life was like. Harry stood in the spacious shower cubicle and let the water run straight down from the top of his head. In the month that he had known Zahra she had brought a sense of order and purpose into his free-wheeling, self-obsessed life. She was supportive, reliable, and patient; always looking for the good in others and in difficult situations. He didn't deserve her, and he knew it.

When he finally turned off the water, Harry heard someone knocking at the door. He grabbed a towel and opened it a crack, bewildered as to why Brady would need to disturb him.

"Yes?"

"Would you like to see Zahra?"

"Yes, of course."

"Good, because I just told her you were getting ready to have brunch with her."

"What?"

"Your schedule says brunch. I contacted Zahra to see if she would like to be picked up, but she's fine to meet you there."

Harry stared at him. Brady stared back with a solid poker face.

"I know I'm hungover, but I'm pretty sure we didn't have a brunch date."

"Would you like to call Zahra and tell her it's off?"

"No!"

"Alright then, as soon as you're ready I'll bring the car to the front."

His lagging brain took another moment to process everything. It was unusual for Brady to go out on a limb like this, jeopardizing his job. Brady, who had done everything from turn out Harry's one night stands to purchase alcohol for his underage boss – all the while putting up with his entitled behaviour – was not one to argue better interests. Even though the man had been his personal aide for a couple years now, Harry was sometimes struck by how little he knew him or how he thought. "You're not even doing this for me, are you? You're doing this for Zahra," Harry concluded.

Brady's gaze didn't waver, but he made no reply either.

"A little ironic, isn't it though? You won't step in to save me from myself, but you'll go out of your way to make sure she doesn't get hurt."

"Harry, you know as well as I do, that I'm paid to assist you. Not parent you, not counsel you, not save you. Sometimes that means standing by while you make bad decisions. If I thought it would make an ounce of difference, I would stop you, but ultimately, if you want change in your life, it has to come from you. Now, Zahra is a whole other matter – she cares about you more than anyone else I've seen in your life, but if you don't completely level with her, she's going to shut you out. If I hadn't been seventy-two percent sure you wanted to talk things out with her, I would have left it."

"Wait, you weren't one hundred percent sure?"

"I'm afraid not," he replied, not at all intimidated by the younger man. "But I'm sure of Zahra. If you want to be the friend that she needs and deserves, then this is your chance."

Brady turned to leave but stopped short when he felt a hand on his arm. He turned back to see Harry looking up at him, more child-like than he had seen in a long time.

"Thank you."

"It's worth it to hear you say that," Brady replied with a small smile.

Shortly after this exchange, Zahra and Harry were sitting down to brunch with a lavish spread in front of them; there was everything from pancakes to granola to fruit to eggs. Brady had gone ahead and ordered a selection of food, taken his own to-go, and left the two of them to figure things out – much to Harry's chagrin. Both of them felt awkward, perhaps even more so than when they had first met.

"I think I messed up," Harry ventured.

Zahra looked up from fiddling with the sleeve of her sweater.

He continued, "I never told you much about my background. I come from a wealthy family."

"I guessed that much; I don't know anyone else who has a butler," Zahra replied, speaking matter-of-factly.

"My father owns a company called Oscorp; it's research and development, medical stuff, new energy stuff… a bit of everything. In any case, it's the company I'm set to inherit."

"That sounds like a huge responsibility," she commented. "I guess that makes you kinda famous."

"Well, uh…yeah," he said, almost sheepishly. "And because of that, I've also grown up with a higher level of security than most people. I've been trained in self-defence and how to use firearms. Though it's rare, situations do come up. I'm not exactly the most tall or brawny guy out there, so I need to be able to hold my own."

Zahra quietly took in the information. "I was really freaked out. I've never even seen someone hold a gun, and suddenly there's this brutal side of you that I wasn't expecting."

"I'm sorry, Zahra." He looked into her warm brown eyes – it was like looking into a well of emotion. "The thing is…" he hesitated, "I do have that side. I've always felt like it's just me against everything, like I can only rely on myself."

"But, you've got Brady…" she countered.

"Even Brady will tell you he's just a man-servant. He's paid to be here."

"He cares about you though."

"To an extent, I guess…"

"And I care about you. Doesn't that count for something?"

"It does!" Harry instinctively grasped one of her hands. "It counts for everything. I just thought if I told you about Oscorp and all that, it would change things."

"Like I would start treating you differently because you have money?" Zahra asked.

"It's happened before," he said with a sigh. "I've been so comfortable with you – we can hang out and I can be myself, and there's no drama, no judgment. Maybe that's selfish of me, but that's how I feel."

"That means I get to know the real Harry Osborn," she replied. "I only want you to be real with me."

"You're not going to like everything you see."

"Perhaps not, but I'm looking for what I can trust."