Free Highness by Latrivia Nelson Page A

say something to offend her and ruin the moment.”
    “I’ll remember that,” Michael said, walking over to the chair in the corner.  He plopped down most ungracious like. “It was the way that she looked at me that keeps playing in my mind.”
    Geoff’s voice was flat and matter-of-fact.  “How could she look at you?  She’s blind.”
    And there it was.  Geoff’s off-color comments.  “I know that she’s blind, Geoff. Damn. I just told you that. What I am saying is…,” he paused and looked over at his friend. “I’m saying it’s the way she looked through me.  It’s been a while since I have met someone who seemed so calming. She was real.”
    A real live girl , Geoff mocked inwardly.  “Jernigan is quite calming once you get pass his constant and abhorrent tobacco spitting and his situational deafness.  Maybe you should try to make a match, since you’re not in the market.” 
    There was a long silence as Michael stared out of the window. 
    “Do you believe in destiny?” Michael asked.
    “I believe in directing your attention toward what you want,” Geoff answered, a little more responsive than before.  But he quickly shut off his emotions. “But I also believe that you can see what you want to see, or in her case…”
    Michael huffed and stood up.  “I give up.  Good night, Geoff.  Do get some sleep. You are absolutely crabby without your rest.”  He picked up a pillow from the bed and threw it at Geoff’s head.  “Don’t quit your day job.  You’re a dreadfully unfunny bloke.”
    Geoff smirked.  “I’ll remember that.  Goodnight, sir.  Do try to get some rest.”
    “Good night,” Michael said, leaving Geoff alone with his news broadcast.
    Michael knew that going to sleep was not really an option, but talking to Geoff had given him an idea.  This was a social media age. Surely, there had to be something about her on the Internet. Closing the door behind him as he entered his room, he turned on the light and grabbed his computer.  Since it was far too late to stop by her home, he’d Google her. 
    ***
    Just a few hundred feet away from where Michael sat surfing the internet for Intel on his new muse, Hope sat up in bed under a mass of colorful patchwork quilts, while Bree oiled her scalp.  With the windows open listening to the same chirping crickets that serenaded Michael and the same moon bathed the night, the two women drank tea and ate chocolate chip cookies while Ed Sheeran played on the stereo. 
    Like school girls, they laughed and played, forgetting all the troubles that came with the day.  Unable to sleep on their last night before Bree’s departure, they decided to spend some much-needed quality time just talking like they used to do before things had gotten so complicated. 
    For Hope however, there was another motive for the late night chat.  Today, unlike the ones before it had brought intrigue back into her life. For hours after the stranger had come to her door, she had recounted their conversation. How funny he was and quick witted.  He had made her laugh and for a moment, forget that she was blind.  While LouAnn was trying to convince her that she was qualified to work for her, Hope had been lost in her thoughts, trying desperately to figure out the brand of cologne that Michael had worn.   When she moved from his cologne, she was only left with his funny accent and the brief touch of her skin and his when he held her hand.  Was it possible that he liked her too?
    She curled her legs under her and finally asked the question that she’d wanted to ask since earlier in the day.
    “Tell me how he looked, Bree” she said, trying to repress her smile.
    Bree parted Hope’s hair.  “Who?”
    Hope huffed. “You know who .  Michael.”
    “Oh, him,” Bree said, smiling.  She chuckled. “He was handsome.”
    “Like school boy handsome or Facebook post hot?” Hope asked, biting her lip. “Don’t leave out any detail.”
    Bree couldn’t