She looked tired, both mentally and physically.
She also looked like a businesswoman, but beneath seemed lost, broken.
A beautiful puzzle that I wanted to put back together. To bring this dazzling woman back into the light where she belonged.
I was in this, but I needed to know if she was.
Was Mia Moretti ready to be inspired?
Chapter Four
Mia
The man who walked into my office was not at all what I’d expected out of a life coach. Some tall guy with a button-up shirt, brown slacks, a briefcase, and glasses was what I had been picturing. Like all the psychologists I’d looked up online.
“Hello, Mr. Logan. I’m Mia Moretti. But please, call me Mia.” I stood and stretched out my hand to shake with his very tan and strong-looking hand.
He had blond hair that appeared just long enough to run your fingers through at the top before it was sheared shorter on the sides, which made his ocean-blue eyes pop.
“Call me Logan.” Those eyes crinkled slightly as he smiled. His five o’clock shadow game was on point.
I’d tell you, if we put this walking ocean god on a few advertisements, business would go up at least ten percent. He was something else. A peek of a tattoo on his left bicep, beneath the hem of his shirt, made me want to slightly tilt my head to see more of what he’d inked on his tan skin.
“You’re from Inspired?” I tried to keep up the professionalism here, but he truly stunned me, looking the way he did, the just got done hanging out on the beach with a Corona look was nice but hardly seemed life coach–like.
“Yeah. It’s the sandals that are tricking you, right?”
My eyes rolled down his very toned chest under that tight, faded blue shirt, continued past the ripped-at-the-knees jeans, and then landed on the old sandals.
“Not at all. Just not what I was expecting. Neither here nor there. Please have a seat.” Averting my eyes somewhere else instead of on this gorgeous man in my office, I gestured to one of the comfy chairs in front of my desk before making my way over to my seat.
“Thank you. So, Mia, why Inspired?” He plopped into the chair like he was at home.
His whole lack of superior professionalism was oddly putting me at ease and making me suspicious.
Was this really gonna fix me? Was he gonna help me be happy again instead of whatever I was?
“I was up the other night, doing some paperwork, and saw the ad. It spoke to me.”
On so many levels, I had practically humped the TV that night. Apparently, all I needed for foreplay was the promise of a happy life.
“How so?” His eyes never left mine since he sat down, making it hard for me to keep up that I was not as crazy as I felt.
Even though I knew I needed to vent everything to this guy, I was such a control freak that I couldn’t even part ways with my pain. Gia was hard enough to talk to, let alone this stranger.
“How about you tell me about you first? I know nothing. I think it would make me more comfortable, hearing that.”
He nodded, seemingly saying that was fair, and it was. He’d said he was from Inspired, but I actually didn’t know if that was true. He could be the new bike messenger who’d read my info and wanted some cash.
“Name is Logan. I started Inspired about four and a half years ago after my marriage went sour. I’d managed to get depressed and then found my way out. I had been a counselor before and thought the rules and restrictions to truly help people were wrong. So, here we are now. Inspired has a one hundred percent success rate. If we accept you into the program, all you have to do is do everything I say. It’s all in your best interest toward being inspired by life again.”
Everything he’d said made sense, and despite just meeting this man, I felt like I knew him personally.
He’d been married before, and it’d gone sour as well. Been there, buddy.
“I’m glad everything worked out.” I tried to muster happiness for him, but my voice fell flat.
His lips tilted up on one side, like he knew I was struggling with that particular emotion.
“Here is my card. It has my number and my license numbers. I still keep up with them. Having those numbers and letters after my name helps professionals like yourself feel comfortable working with me and my other members.”
He was right. My tensed shoulders relaxed, and while I was sure he would need a crowbar to peel open my layers, I felt he could handle what was beneath the hardened shell. I peeked at the card he’d set on my table and made a mental note to look over it later. To research Mr. Logan Woodland.
“Your turn.” He smiled at me, and my chest clinched. Not in a good way, but in a I’m scared to do this kind of way.
What if he thought I was crazy and that I needed to be committed? The press would love that about me.
“I’m Mia. Owner of Moretti Hotels. In the Business Machine Magazine’s Top Billionaires Under Forty Club. Um, I started feeling off about a year ago. I don’t think there was a reason for it—at least, not that I can think of. I loved my job before. It was my purpose. I was married previously, but that went sour as well. Honestly, my life is great. I have everything so many people dream of, and yet I’m unhappy. I want it fixed. I’m just tired of feeling like this, and I have no idea what this is.”
That’d actually come out quicker and a lot easier than I’d thought it would.
“You loved your job? How do you feel about it now?” He narrowed in on that first.
“I seemed to have lost interest in … well …” I tried to think of things I was passionate about currently but came up short. “Everything. Including my job.”
My throat constricted and began to ache. The threat of tears was close to breaking me. I hated saying that about my life so much. I had a great job. I used to love it. Why did I hate it so much now? My job was my everything. Now, without that passion, who was I? My throat started to ache with the emotions I was fighting back.
“Well, Mia, I’ve seen and heard all I need to. If you really want change and are willing to do anything to be happy, I think Inspired can help you. Are you ready to be inspired, Mia?” He looked at me with such hope in his eyes.
I was caught in his belief that change was possible. I could be happy again.
I wanted to leap up from my desk and yell, Yes, like I was in a football locker room after a pep talk, but I had one tiny question lingering in my head before I could sign my life away to this man.
“Just to be clear, willing to do anything to be happy does not mean that I have to sleep with you if you say so, right? I wanna be happy, and as nice as I’m sure that would be, I’m not doing that.”
Oh my God, I’d just said it would be nice to sleep with him. That was it. I was committing myself to the psych ward for good.
Chapter Five
Logan
“To fresh meat!”
The clink of bottles echoed around the nearly empty Tink’s Tavern I was sitting at with my two friends, and Tink behind the bar.
“She’s not meat,” I grumbled, but the smile had not left my face since Mia and I shook hands and signed electronic documents, sealing her as my client for the next six weeks.
I was beyond excited—not only because she was the highest client on the food chain I’d ever had the pleasure of working with, but also because she was going to be fun to crack. There was so much more to Mia that she didn’t even know about herself, and I was going to enjoy bringing her out of her old, muddy shell.
There were going to be hard times, but she was capable. She would see everything and come out the other side even stronger.
Callum, one of my coworkers and best friend, smacked me on the shoulder in congratulations for gaining the new client. Of course, I didn’t tell them her name, but they knew it was a high-profile case.
He looked much like me. In fact, most of the time, people thought we were brothers. He was my brother in all the ways that truly counted, blood be damned. But where I was now the care
free one, Callum was the type who could help everyone else but himself on the inside. There were deep sorrows he couldn’t forgive even though he knew how.
Tate, on my other side, was guzzling his brown bottle down like it was the air he breathed. He was the opposite of Callum and me. He was tall, built like tight end football player, and had black hair with green eyes. Biggest goofball you’d ever meet. All six feet, and two hundred pounds of him.
He was a sports announcer, which came with the perks of free tickets to sporting events for his best friends.
“So, what’s on the agenda first, Logan? The normal mirror trick? Um, let me guess. You’re gonna start with the forgiveness letters and burn them.” Tate laughed, trying to guess my plan for Mia.
He liked to pick on my profession, but when he needed advice, I was the first person he came to. Humor was his go-to for everything, and it worked for him as far as an outlet.
“Not sure yet. I’m gonna pop over tonight to check out her house before she has a chance to clean or prepare for me. She’s a tight ball of madness, and there’s a struggle to let go and let me in. Gonna have to peel back one layer at a time.”
I was grinning from ear to ear, thinking about all the ways I could help Mia. There was no waiting on my agenda. I would be seeing her tonight. There were a few things I’d noticed about her words that spoke so much more than what she actually said. Her tone, her eyes falling flat, the bob of her throat when she talked about her job. Tears had wanted to cascade down her tan cheeks. She’d held them back though.
She had so many emotions inside her, and I doubted she let them out, even in tiny doses.
Crying, anger, doubt, and even sadness were not bad emotions. Only when they took control of someone was there a negative. She just needed to let some steam out of the pot for starters. To get angry. To cry. To feel something and let it out.
“Proud of you, kid.” Tink, my sort-of adopted mom, set a plate of delicious nachos with cheese, sour cream, and bacon in front of me.
“Thanks, Tink.” I looked into the blue eyes of my short, blonde-haired, old gal.
Her husband, who had passed away about six years ago, had always called her Tink since her personality was a bit like the little fairy herself. She had bite and a bark, if needed, but she was also the perfect listener and truly enjoyed running her little bar by the beach.
I’d been in here a lot after Katherine and I split. Trying to drink myself dead every night. Tink had stepped in and saved my life. After that, she’d continued to be there for me more than my actual mom was ever there for me.
Mom and Dad were living happily in Utah. They never called, and they never checked in on me. I honestly felt it was in my best interest to let them go. They were a toxic duo anyway.
Tink and these two tools were all the family I needed.
Of course, being family meant they felt okay to dig into my celebratory nachos without asking, which was not cool in this case.
“Nope. My nachos. Order your own.” I elbowed them back to their stools and hoarded the precious chips and cheese.
“Not very nice for a life coach. Don’t know how you do it.” Tate’s frown was all for show, but he turned to Tink to order his own plate when she showed up with one for him and Callum.
Bless that woman.
“You are a fairy goddess, Tink.” Tate moaned while rubbing his hands back and forth in anticipation.
Callum was drooling along with him, eyes devouring the food before his mouth ever touched it. Tink walked away, mumbling about ridiculous boys, but she loved us just as much as we loved her.
When the plates were licked clean and our bellies were full, I thought about a game plan for meeting with Mia again.
“All right, I’m getting out of here.” I tossed a hundred-dollar bill on the bar, knowing very well it didn’t cost much for the beer and food.
But it was the only way Tink would let me give her money. Not that she needed it, but I felt like it was the least I could do. She could save it or buy herself a new pair of boots that she liked so much. Tink was a boot-a-holic.
I like sandals more so than boots. My feet liked to breathe, to have some space. But, every once in a while, when the temperature dipped into the fifties or I wanted to go hiking, I’d put on something not open-toed.
“See you bitches later. I have to help a lady become inspired.”
Both Callum and Tate hooted and made lewd comments about how I was going to inspire Mia, making me laugh.
No sexual acts of any kind were part of my plan. Mia was not even close to mixing in intimacy. She needed to find herself first before involving another person; otherwise, she was likely to develop codependency struggles, connecting happiness to that said person.
My job was to steer her away from that and any other negative habits for the next six weeks.
This was going to be fun.
Chapter Six
Mia
I’d just set the grocery bags on the counter when a knock on my door surprised me.
Maybe Gia was trying to feed me two nights in a row. I had food this time, but I was not opposed to her company. Truthfully, this apartment was quiet, which I normally liked, but when you were feeling down, the last thing you wanted was to be alone with only your head for company.
I looked through my peephole just in case and pulled back in confusion, my eyes darting around the foyer to see if there were any hidden cameras looking for my reaction.
Nope. None there.
I peered back into the hole and stared, dumbfounded, at Logan, who was waiting patiently for me to answer the door.
“I’m glad I didn’t already take my bra off,” I mumbled my thought but realized too late that I’d meant to keep that thought inside my head instead of letting it out.
A chuckle from the other side made my head drop to the cold wood door in embarrassment.
My fingers gripped the door handle, and I took a step back to open up for him. Blushed cheeks and all.
“Logan. Come on in.”
He was here for life coach business I was sure, so there was no point in not inviting him in. He essentially owned my ass for six weeks. He said it; I’d do it. Well, besides sexual things. I was still shocked over our conversation earlier.
He looked just as good as before. Torn jeans and sandals still worked in his favor.
“Thank you, Mia. I wanted to come by and chat. I think we can start implementing some vital changes right away and keep evaluating everything as we go. Would you like some help with putting your groceries away? I don’t mind.” He glanced at the bags of food and started to walk toward them.
“Oh no, that’s okay. I’ll put them away while we chat.”
He was a guest, and guests weren’t supposed to help.
That had been ingrained in me since birth, so I was shaking my head so fast that it might unscrew before his pretty blue eyes.
“First rule of when you’re down is, accept help if it’s truly offered. You don’t need to be the one to shoulder everything like a martyr. Yes, I see that scrunched-up face. I know it’s groceries, and you probably think I’m your guest, but I came unannounced, and I’d like to help you. So, take it.”
My face was indeed scrunched up. His logic made sense, but I swore, I could feel the stares of all Italian and Southern mamas around the world, glaring at me to host this man and make him shut up and sit on the couch while I got to work.
“A lot of people have problems saying no. You, Mia, are not one of those people. You have issues saying yes. Accept my help. It will feel strange at first, but you’ll be glad you did later.”
He walked over to the bags and waited patiently. Looking at me with soft features, hoping I would say yes and accept his help. It wasn’t really about the groceries. I mean, for crying out loud, putting them away was not even close to being an Olympic sport. This was about accepting help when offered. He was right; that was an issue of mine.
Fine.
“I’d love help. Thank you.” T
here might have been an extra stomp in my step as I marched to the bags and started taking things out of them.
In about five short minutes, we were done, and the bags were stashed in their proper place.
“Now, I will throw my dinner in the oven, and we can chat like you wanted.” I grabbed the salmon with veggies that was all set to go in the oven and set the timer.
Logan was leaning against my counter, watching me, and I felt nervous. Goose bumps rose on my arms, my nipples tightened, and my fingers fidgeted with the hem of my shirt. I felt like I was under the microscope. Every part of me was being dissected like some frog on a table.
“What?” I had to get out of his glare trap, so with swift feet, I walked my ass over to my comfy light-blue couch and sat against the side arm with a pillow supporting me.
Logan followed but sat on the oversize chair I used to chill in to read. It was round and snuggly.
“Nice place.” He gazed around, taking every detail in. All my pictures, home accents, and decor.
I might have money, but my home looked like a normal home, I would assume. There was no gaudy furniture here. I liked things cozy and rustic. Something you’d see in a Pottery Barn home. Most of my hotels had that theme, too, except this one. The Grande Belezza was a lot more chic and flashy.
“Thanks. I like it.” I did.
In fact, my home was not something I wanted to change in my life. I liked it a lot. There were just times I felt lonely in it, but that wasn’t the home’s fault. It was mine. Maybe I should get a cat.
“What were you thinking just now? You smiled slightly.” His eyes held amusement in them, as he was curious as to what had made me smile.
“I was thinking about getting a cat. It can be lonely here, but then again, I don’t have much time for an animal. So, maybe that was a lame idea.”
The more I thought about it, the more I started to turn toward the negative side of having a cat or animal in the hotel. I didn’t even let animals in the establishment unless they were service animals, so that would hardly be fair if I had one, but the guests couldn’t bring Fido with them. Then, there was the cleaning and feeding and taking care of it. I was tired already, thinking about it. No time and no energy for a cat. Guess it really was my fault that I was alone in this place.
Inspired Page 2
