Inspired

by Jessica Florence

  Chapter Nine

  Mia

  While I was a celebrity of sorts for owning a large hotel chain, I was no movie star. My hotels had been in a few films though. So, truthfully, I doubted anyone here would recognize me and think to take a picture of me in some compromising way to sell. Taking that in and truly digesting it made me feel better. It wasn’t like Logan was making me eat bull’s balls. It was hanging out on the beach, listening to people play music, drink, and dance.

  Something normal people did with their time, and they enjoyed it.

  Logan was carrying a beach bag in his hand and set it down in a sandy spot where we’d make our temporary seats.

  “I can relax. I can,” I whispered to myself as a little pep talk.

  I didn’t know why I was feeling all jittery. Maybe my anger from Donovan, the manager who’d fucked up earlier still lingered, maybe it was the hunger gnawing at my stomach, or maybe it was the man laying out a large beach towel for us to sit on.

  This was not a date. He was my life coach, and I was the crazy person he was trying to fix. But it sorta felt like one regardless. He was attractive and had that whole I don’t care what people think confidence that I could admit was hot. Blond hair, tan skin, muscles, and a set of blue eyes that sparkled paired with his killer smile.

  Okay, so I was crushing on my life coach a bit. But this was not a date, and I needed to push those feelings out with the receding waves.

  “So, we just sit here and enjoy this, right?” I was curious if there was more to this than what I could see.

  Would he make me play the drums? Dance with the sunset falling over the ocean behind me?

  The thought didn’t sound that bad. I used to love to dance, but it’d been a long time. My ex-husband Wallace hated to dance. He was the business type that didn’t like to get his Armani suit wrinkled. Sex with the lights off in the same two positions—me on top or him on top, missionary style.

  “What are you thinking?” Logan was watching me, ever perceptive of when my thoughts veered in an unpleasant direction.

  “My ex.”

  I was only going to get better if I was honest. That was why I was doing this whole thing and had paid crap-tons of money to have a life coach tell me what to do—so I could get better. Feel happy and fulfilled again.

  Logan sat on the blanket and gestured for me to join him. Once settled and a tumbler of water was handed to me, I started letting my thoughts out. Relieving a bit of the pressure that had been settling inside me.

  “My ex-husband, Wallace, would have never set foot out here. He was a commercial lawyer. That’s how we met. I hired him, and we fell in love. Well, I don’t really know if it was true love, but we liked each other enough to get married.”

  Thinking about it now made it seem like some business deal we’d made, but we had really liked each other. He was everything I’d thought I wanted. Now, I had no clue what I wanted.

  “You said you’re divorced. What happened?” Logan was watching the people dancing in front of us, not giving me his penetrating look, and I was grateful for that.

  “He slept with my secretary. Blamed the divorce on me. I know it wasn’t my fault, but I still think maybe, if I’d done more, it wouldn’t have happened.”

  So many emotions I’d been fighting with since it happened two years ago were coming out.

  “It’s not your fault,” Logan said.

  While I heard the words, just like I’d heard them from everyone else, it didn’t make me feel any different.

  “Anyway, I was thinking that he didn’t dance and didn’t get his suit wrinkly and only liked to have sex two ways. Kinda boring now that I think about it.” I laughed, but it was not a real happy laugh, more of a trying-to-lighten-the-mood chuckle.

  He didn’t laugh though.

  “I know we just sat down, but come on. Get up.” Logan stood and stretched his hands above his head. A tan sliver of skin peeked from beneath his shirt, and I found myself staring at it for the few seconds it was available.

  His hand then reached out for me to take, so he could help me up, and I placed mine inside his. Those muscles of his arm bunched up, showing more of that tattoo as he pulled me up like I was nothing. Granted, I was a lot smaller than him all around, so it must not have been too hard for the ocean god.

  “Okay, I’m up. Now what?”

  “We’re gonna dance.”

  My eyes darted around to see if people were watching us, and of course, they weren’t. These people wouldn’t give two shits if I dressed up as Big Bird and did the Sprinkler dance. Unlike in a the club scene where curious eyes were always on you if you wiggled a bit. I was a lot less likely to wind up on the tabloids front cover here.

  My head bobbed into a nod, and then I started to sway my hips with the bang of the drums. Logan was going full-blown tribal mode with his hips moving from one side to the other or doing the swim move with that infectious grin aiming to get me to loosen up.

  I laughed, feeling foolish, but that was lessening with every second he acted like a goof. I needed this. My mind was only focused on right now. Not the past, not work, not my ex or family. I was here, on the beach, and nowhere else. My eyelids fell, and my arms started moving around like a gentle breeze as I listened to the waves crashing with the beat. Sand between my toes and the wind against my fingers. There was nothing in this moment but me. I was free.

  I didn’t know how long I just moved to the music. It seemed like the songs had changed, but I was just staying here. Dancing on the beach to drums. I didn’t want to open my eyes. I didn’t want to be back in reality where I wasn’t okay because, as long as my eyes were closed and the music was playing, I was okay.

  “Mia.” Logan’s voice was soft, and I swore, he even had a hint of awe in his broken whisper.

  My eyes flew open at that.

  He was watching me, of course. He was always paying attention to what I was doing. Like he was seeing into my soul through my eyes. But, this time, I didn’t know what he saw. Did he see that lick of freedom I’d tasted? Did he see this as progress? I wasn’t sure if it was or not. Tomorrow, this moment could be over and forgotten.

  “What?” I kept moving, unwilling to give up what I was feeling right now, but I was curious as to what he was thinking for a change.

  He was moving to the beat himself, but there wasn’t as much acting and flair in his dancing as before. He’d softened, and his gaze was not just on mine but looking all over me, like he was seeing me for the first time.

  “Nothing.” He shook his head and went back to dancing for laughs.

  Instead of trying to figure him out, like I normally would, I went back to closing my eyes and doing this for me.

  Chapter Ten

  Logan

  I took clients places to help get them out of their shells all the time. They had me, which was comfortable, and familiar in new settings. There was trust in signing the documents for Inspired—that I was going to take care of them, keep them safe. So, when we did something out of the norm, they would look to me before jumping. It always worked in step one, and they felt like this program would actually help them. That confidence, that taste of something different, would stir that motivation in clients to be themselves.

  But, this time, something felt different.

  I watched as Mia let go, as she closed her eyes and stopped caring about what those around her thought. What they thought she should or shouldn’t do and just simply did. Only thing I could think to equate watching her free herself was if I was watching her fall apart from an orgasm. She just opened herself up and fell apart in happiness.

  Nothing—and I repeat, nothing—was sexier to a man than watching a woman have confidence in herself and do what she wanted for own purpose. If a woman wanted to seduce her man and wanted to be attractive in his eyes, then all she really needed was to feel attractive to herself. That was a huge issue with women.

  Mia was sexy as fuck right now, and I wanted nothing more than to help her fall a
part further, to let go of everything she was holding on to. I would beg the devil himself and trade my soul for one chance to look into her eyes as I brought her over to rapture, feeling her detonate around me, beneath me.

  “I’m going to take a walk. Phone call.” I grabbed my phone, needing an escape from this beautiful woman before I did something stupid and wrapped my hands around her swaying hips, bringing her flush against my body.

  She nodded and kept dancing.

  I was glad her eyes were closed, so she couldn’t see the tortured look on my face as I watched her move like that, so freely.

  I didn’t walk far from her. I needed to keep an eye on her form, no matter what. But I needed that space to cool my thoughts. She was my client. This was not a date. This was all part of the Inspired process. There was no way in hell I could get caught up sexually with Mia. Disaster was written all over that deal. Mia needed to be completely self-reliant after our six weeks were over. That was the whole point. I’d help her get over the large humps, and she could take it from there once she felt better. She didn’t need a man, and I didn’t want her to need one.

  People really didn’t need another human to make themselves happy. Happiness came from within. Sexual enjoyment was great, but it came with complications. I lived a complication-free lifestyle.

  So, no, I would not be selling my soul like I’d wanted, so I could have Mia fall apart beneath me.

  I kept talking to myself, giving myself a talking-to like Callum or Tate would, saying that my thoughts were not a good idea. After a few minutes, I felt in control of my mind and body again, and I walked back over to Mia as she decided to take a break and guzzle her water like she hadn’t drunk in years.

  “How are you feeling?” I tossed my phone into the bag and sat down just as she did.

  “I feel oddly free,” she admitted before drinking more of her water.

  Good. Water was good. Feeling free was good.

  “Great. You might not see it, but you’re not as bad off as you think you are.”

  Her head turned toward mine, and she looked at me with an eyebrow raised. Unwilling to believe what I’d said was true. She was lost, no doubt about that. But she still got out of bed every morning, and she saw life and beauty. But, for some reason, we’d yet to figure out why she was standing on the sidelines, watching life go by instead of living it.

  “For one, I have had clients who were afraid to leave their homes. Or just didn’t want to. Even though you’re feeling lost, you’re still out, sailing the seas every day, searching for a better life. A lot of people won’t even step one foot on the boat.”

  That seemed to register something in her. Those gray eyes stared at me, her lips parted, and the sip of water she was about to take was forgotten.

  “I’ve never thought of it that way. It doesn’t feel like I’m doing anything anymore. Only reason I get out of bed is because I have responsibilities to take care of.” She was trying to downplay this, and that was part of the issues right now with her.

  “For some—and I saw it back when I was a counselor too—they don’t let responsibility stop them from staying in bed and wanting to give up on life. Children go hungry and have to take care of themselves because Mom won’t. Dad does nothing but sit on the couch, drinking until he passes out. You are out, taking care of shit, breathing, and trying to make the most of how you feel. It might not seem like some grand accomplishment compared to acquiring a new hotel, but it’s just as important. The simple act of continuing when you feel like giving up is the bravest thing anyone can do. You are amazing.”

  She really was. She was smart, beautiful, and brave.

  “The fact that you recognized you needed help and asked for it is a huge step! Be proud of yourself, Mia. You are so much stronger than you feel.” I looked away to the people dancing to the drums in front of us, needing to gain space from her penetrating gaze.

  It shouldn’t be hard to digest all the good things around you, but at low points in our lives, we forgot how far we’d come and only focused on how much more we had to do.

  She stayed silent, hopefully taking in my words and letting them settle deep in her soul. She was doing great, and hopefully, holding the mirror up to her would help her see it. After a few minutes of the drums and waves echoing around us, I changed the subject.

  “Now that you’re all loosened up, I want to talk about the list you made last night. What are some of the things you loved to do?”

  I doubted there was anything on her list that I couldn’t help inspire her with, but who knew? Mia was sure to be the person to surprise me the most out of all my past clients.

  Her bottom lip was nervously pulled between her teeth as she peered up from beneath those long eyelashes, and I found myself slightly leaning in. Eager to hear little morsels of what this woman liked to do.

  Chapter Eleven

  Mia

  Logan had hit the nail on the head with me, and I honestly felt ashamed for not focusing on the positives in my life. He was so right about me. I was still going and still trying, even when I felt like becoming a blanket burrito in bed all day. It wasn’t easy all the time, but I did it. When had I turned into this person who only focused on the big accomplishments and not the smaller but just as important ones?

  His eyes were glued to my face as he waited for me to answer him about my list.

  “I liked going to the beach and being in and around water. Water was always my thing. Used to be on the swim team in high school and freshman year of college. After that, the drive to succeed took over, and water fun took a backseat. Then, there’s reading. I haven’t sat down and read something for fun in a long time. Well, I did put on a favorite scene from an audiobook last night when taking a bath.” I gave him a smile of gratitude because I wouldn’t have had that moment last night and right now if he hadn’t opened my eyes to all I’d been blind to.

  He grinned in return, and I continued on with my favorite activities before I did something dumb like tell him I liked his smile.

  “I like art, too. I still get to look at art for my hotels and be a part of the decorating process, but it’s not the same. I used to draw, paint, and do photography. Been a long time, but that was almost what I went into instead of the hotel business.”

  I had been the artsy kid at one time, some of the best years of my life. Wallace hadn’t cared for my art and hadn’t liked me using my time doing that instead of doing something more productive.

  “These are great. I can totally see you painting, making a mess all over the place, a rainbow of colors splattered in your hair and cheeks.”

  His eyes were glancing at my hair and then my cheeks, as if he really could envision paint decorating them. Blush grew on said cheeks at his stare.

  Not a date. Not a date. Not a date.

  “What do you like to do?” I asked out of curiosity.

  “I’m simple. I like freedom to do whatever I want. Sports. My buddy Tate gets me and our other friend into games. I like being in the ocean, rock climbing, dirt biking, and singing.”

  Singing? Logan could sing? All the other hobbies fit him completely but singing. That I had not seen coming.

  “I want to hear you sing.” My hand reached out to touch his in a pleading manner.

  A tattoo, sun-kissed skin, and he sang. What novel was I stuck in right now?

  “Sometime.”

  He smirked, and I gave him the best version of puppy eyes and pouty lips I could muster. My father had sworn that look could get me anything, so much that he’d turn his head and look the other way when I did it.

  I missed my family.

  “So, what now, Yoda? We just keep dancing and letting loose?” It didn’t seem like a bad plan. I was getting hungry though.

  “Now, we eat.”

  As if he’d read my thoughts, he pulled out two sandwiches from a little basket he went and got from the Jeep. Italian sub and a turkey one. I took the turkey.

  While we ate, I thought about everything he’d
said to me within the past twenty-four hours. So many words that pierced my hollow shell. He had been right about everything so far. I needed to recognize how far I’d come and the everyday, small accomplishments. Like remembering where I put my phone or my personal e-mail password.

  “What do you think is wrong with me? I mean, I know you’re still new to me, but I’ve looked up all my symptoms and talked to doctors, and no one really has answers. They point to depression, but I’m not sold.”

  I guessed no one wanted to admit they were depressed, like it was some shameful flaw inside us. It wasn’t. It was completely admirable to admit one was depressed and needed to seek help. I just didn’t want to claim I was if I wasn’t.

  “I don’t think you’re depressed. I’m sure you have your moments, like every other human being on the planet. But, no, I think you’ve just lost your way. I think you’ve become someone you don’t recognize, and you have some parts of yourself to work out. Figure out who you are and who you wanna be.” He didn’t look at me as he said those words. His eyes were on the waves. Watching as they crashed against the sand, grinding the shells over and over.

  “I’m glad I hired you.”

  He smiled at me and bumped my shoulder with his in a friendly way. “Me, too.”

  ***

  Once we were done eating, we stayed for another hour before heading back to the hotel.

  The only homework he left me with tonight was to dance one more time before going to bed. So, when I took a shower to wash off the day, I turned up the tunes and danced. There might have been some definite singing going on with the hair conditioner as my microphone.

  The younger Mia from my childhood would have laughed and giggled and joined in. I needed to bring out the child in me more often. A time in my memory when things had been easy, and I had known exactly who I was.