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.
I went to bed that night, feeling better than when I had woken up—until the nightmare started ruining my sense of peace.
