Blind | h.s. [COMPLETE]

Chapter Two

"Sure. I just don't want to think about...this."

Paisley smiled at his gruffness but couldn't blame him. She'd be freaking out if she were claustrophobic and thought he had to be strong to sit there so calmly. She wondered if that was why he'd been so quiet earlier and decided to help him through their hopefully temporary confinement.

"Okay, then. You go first." She said.

"Okay." He was quiet for a moment, then said, "What's the wonderful world of bookkeeping like?"

"Can I make this sound anymore wonderful?" She laughed, leaning her head back against the cool metal wall. "Bookkeepers are often responsible for an organization's accounts. We record all transactions such as costs and income. Fun stuff like that."

"Oh, well, that actually does sound kind of interesting. You keep track of the money."

She appreciated his effort, but was so used to people developing narcolepsy at the mere mention of being a bookkeeper that she wasn't sure if he was being serious. "Are you being serious or are you making fun of me?"

"It does sound kind of boring, but interesting if you like numbers. I would be baffled by how much a company spends, you know," he replied. The speed of his words confirmed his sincerity.

Paisley smiled. Some of the numbers she'd seen interested her. Three thousand dollars on a company sushi bar, for example. "Okay, then. My turn?"

"I'm an open book, darling. Fire away," he said.

Paisley smiled. "Did I see a tattoo on your hand?"

He didn't answer right away. "Yeah. I have a cross on my hand and an anchor on my wrist."

Paisley didn't have any tattoos—she was too afraid it would hurt to get one—but she'd always been a little fascinated by them. "Is it just the two?"

"Hey, it's my turn now."

"That wasn't a new question," she argued, "that was simply a clarification of my previous question."

"I thought you were a bookkeeper, not a lawyer." He chuckled. She remained silent, waiting for him to clarify. "Fine. I have more tattoos than you can count on your fingers and your toes. Now, is it my turn, counselor?"

"You have more than eleven?" She asked.

"Lilac, we have ten fingers and ten toes," he chuckled, his brows furrowed in amusement.

"Fun fact, I have six toes on my left foot." She was embarrassed, but she liked how comfortable she felt with Harry.

"That is cute. You'll have to show me when the lights come back on."

Paisley couldn't help but smile, her face flushed with embarrassment. "You got a deal. Now, you may proceed."

His low chuckle made her embarrassment melt away. "Yeah, yeah. Okay. What made a girl like you become a bookkeeper?"

A girl like me? She thought.

"A girl like me?" Paisley frowned and awaited his explanation. She couldn't begin to fathom what he meant. Growing up in a houseful of boys turned her into a tomboy from as early as she could remember. Although her high school friends and college roommates introduced her to girly things like dresses and skirts and lingerie and makeup, she still thought of herself as just one of the guys. Nothing remarkable. Certainly not the kind of girl her brothers drooled over.

"Just..." Harry sighed and murmured something she couldn't understand. "You're pretty."

Paisley went from flattered to unsettled and back again. In the end, she couldn't decide which emotion to settle on.

"Um, shit, that didn't come out right either. I mean, you are pretty, but of course pretty girls can be smart. I mean—shit, I'm just gonna stop talking now."

Paisley finally settled on amused and burst out laughing. "That's quite a hole you're digging over there." Getting more serious, she said, "Well, and this will no doubt up my geek factor to you, but I was always very good at math, and numbers just came easy to me. I didn't really want to go into the theoretical side of it and teach. I don't think I would be a good teacher." She thought about her first time becoming a bookkeeper and bit her bottom lip. "When my oldest brother became a police officer, there was a position available in his department, so I took it and I liked it. I joined this firm three years ago, not long after I moved here."

Harry didn't respond, and Paisley was almost certain she'd put him to sleep. Then he said, quietly, "I really like the sound of your voice."

Paisley's flush ran down into the neck of her silk blouse. Saying she was pretty hadn't gotten to her, but his saying he liked her voice set butterflies loose in her stomach.

"Me, too. I mean, your voice. I like it, too. British?" Paisley bit her lip to cut off the spectacular stream of nonsense coming out of her mouth, then pretended to thump herself in the forehead. In that moment, she was glad for the darkness.