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, thejust got done hanging out on the beach with a Coronalook 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 aI’m scared to do thiskind 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 theBusiness Machine Magazine’sTop 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.”
