“Great. Jeep is this way.”
We walked together toward the door, her eyes darting around, looking for anything else that she needed to do before leaving but coming up with nothing. Ultimately, the hotel would run without her there for a short time. She had managers and staff. Everything would be okay, and for someone like her, that was a hard pill to swallow, not being needed for everything.
“Hello, Joe,” she politely greeted the valet.
He said, “Hello,” and then he grabbed my keys and went about getting my vehicle from a nearby parking spot.
We could have probably walked there, but I wasn’t sure if that was against policy. No need getting these people in trouble with the boss. Her heels clicked along the stone floor to my Jeep, and she hopped into the open side in her tight suit pants and blouse.
“Where to, Yoda?”
“Someone has found her sense of humor.”
She seemed so proud of herself, sitting passenger, to have come up with that name. I was glad her earlier frustration with the manager she had been chatting with appeared to not drag her down. Or at least, she was trying not to show that it had gotten to her. I wasn’t quite sure which yet.
We were off, and at first, the windows down and no top around the roll bars above her head brought a tiny smile to her face. Then, as we picked up speed, her caramel hair started to whip out of her bun on top and flail in all directions.
She was fighting saying something for now, trying to be polite because she was in my car, but I felt that earlier frustration grow with every huff of trying to keep her hair out of her eyes. We weren’t far from our destination, and I was beaming with excitement to see her let that hair of hers down and enjoy doing something different. Enjoy the moment.
“Despite having a successful business, you seem to like things simple.” She was curious about me but didn’t want to come out and directly say what she was thinking.
“Tell me what you’re thinking. Don’t worry about offending me. Just say what’s on your mind.”
The first way back to being your authentic self was to stop keeping things inside. Now, if that something would truly hurt someone and in turn hurt yourself, then find another way to ask, but keeping questions and thoughts inside only made you stagnant.
“Fine.” She looked at the trees as we passed by, her fingers started to nervously play with the seat belt she was strapped into.
Come on, little fighter. Show me what you got.
Her head turned to face mine, her gray eyes curious, and her lips smirked.
“I’m just curious why you choose to dress like a surfer dude who probably spends his days at the beach with a Corona between clients and has an old purple Jeep instead of a businessman. Fancy car, suits, et cetera.”
A shrug was all I could muster for that. That guy just wasn’t me. I’d tried—really, I had—for Katherine when we were married, but I hadn’t been my true self. It’d ruined everything.
“Just not who I am. Money or status shouldn’t change who you are. When it does, that’s usually when life goes to shit.” I’d seen enough of that to last many lifetimes.
Her smirk fell, and just like that, she started her free fall into her own head. Dissecting my words and how they applied to her own life. There was a price for everything we did in life, good and bad. We just usually didn’t see our debt until it was over our heads. Good thing we were here, and soon, she’d be too distracted to keep descending into her own madness.
“What the hell?”
Not quite the reaction I was expecting from her, but it would do.
“To circle of drums we must go, hmm.” I gave her my best Yoda impression, and the wide eyes that turned from the scene before us to me were comical.
“You can’t be serious. I can’t wear these shoes on the beach.”
“Poor excuse. Next?”
“But—”
“Take them off, roll up your suit pants, and let’s go. Tonight, you’re playing with the common folk, Moretti.”
That comment earned me an eye roll, but she did as I’d said nonetheless.
“If I smell pot though, I’m getting out of here. I see the headlines now.Moretti Hotel owner smokes pot and dances with the hippies on the beach.My board of directors would love that.”
She stashed her shoes under the seat and proceeded to roll up her pants. She was coming despite putting up a poor fight, and I’d bet everything I had that, by the end of the night, she would feel a little less of the giant weight she carried on her shoulders. I only knew what I’d gathered from her questionnaire answers and the short time we’d talked, but intuition told me this was exactly what she truly needed deep down. She needed to be forced to do something she hadn’t done and maybe even feel like she could be wild and carefree, like the people belly-dancing and acting like they just didn’t care on the beach. Mia was wild. She’d just been caged for too long.
