Page 101 of The Holidays with Mr. Mitchell
The dining roomsmelled like cinnamon rolls, maple donuts, and roasted coffee beans. The long wooden table looked like something out of a Christmas magazine, complete with flannel napkins, Jim’s cinnamon rolls stacked high, and everyone still half asleep but glowing.
Jake, Ash, Spencer, Nat, Collin, and Elena were already there. Jim sat at the head of the table, coffee mug in hand, phone facedown beside it, which told me everything I needed to know.
“Oh no,” I said, sliding into the chair beside him. “I assume you’re aware of your latest trending holiday theme?”
He gave me a dry look over the rim of his mug. “Aware? I’m practically trending in every time zone.”
“Grinch in Gucciis my favorite hashtag,” Collin said, already scrolling. “Oh, wait, no. Shit, here’s a good one:‘When you spend seven figures on Christmas and still forget the spirit of giving.’” He looked up. “Classic, Jimmy.”
Ash grinned. “This one says,‘A holiday miracle—for his accountant.’” She held her phone up for everyone to see. “#TaxWriteOffChristmas is trendingeverywhere.”
Jim rubbed his temple. “Fantastic. The hired elves will be thrilled.”
“You saw that, too?” Spencer chuckled.
“What was the hashtag…Elf Gate?” Jim took a sip of his coffee. “That was the first one that lit my phone up. What was the other?”
“It was,‘Jim Mitchell’s Christmas gala looked like the North Pole had a nervous breakdown,’” Nat added with a laugh.
Jake laughed. “To be fair, that snow machine malfunction was epic. It did look like the North Pole had a nervous breakdown.” He forked another bite of his cinnamon roll, “So, that isn’t twisted truth.”
“I told them not to double the output pressure,” Jim muttered, “but, of course, they didn’t listen to me.”
I rested a hand over his. “Hey. The party was beautiful, Jim. The employees loved it. When the snow machine malfunctioned, it looked like we were inside a Christmas snow globe. It was pretty fucking magical, actually.”
He gave me a weary, crooked smile. “I’m thankful you loved it, gorgeous, because I’m done trying to make the internet happy. They can call me Scrooge, Santa, or Spreadsheet Claus…I don’t give a damn. Last night, my people were laughing and acting like kids on Christmas morning again. That’s what it was all about.”
And there it was, the soft truth behind the exhaustion. The man who’d built an empire out of precision and deadlines had built a winter village just to make other people smile…and the internet still found a way to crucify him for it.
Across the table, Nat was laughing at something on her phone. “Oh my God, Avery. Look at this one. Someone edited Jim’s face onto Scrooge’s, where he’s counting money.”
Spencer leaned over her shoulder. “Hey, man, you make Scrooge look sexy.”
Jim sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. “At least there’s that,” he half-laughed.
“Well, I’m thrilled to announce,” I said with a bright smile, “my party tonight fixes all of that nonsense.”
Jim glanced at me, one eyebrow raised. “You really think a movie set full of fake snow and Christmas carolers is going to change the internet’s mind about me?”
I smiled, reaching for my coffee. “No. But a speech about what Christmas really means might. Which you will be doing, so I hope you have another one prepared.”
My eyes darted to Collin and Jake, my partners in crime, who would be kidnapping the man around seven o’clock tonight. Then, this whole prank about him being Clark’s boss and Scrooge would work through his speech as towhyhis wife planned his party this way. My party would be known as the redemption party.
Jim tilted his head, studying me for a moment before a faint smirk curved his mouth. “You’re planning something, aren’t you?”
I lifted my mug in a toast. “Let’s just say my party will help explain exactlywhyyou’re trending on the internet as the billionaire who went over the top for his Christmas parties this year.”
“You sure about that, sis?” Collin eyed me with a smile. “The internet loves to break when it comes to twisting up shit about Jimmy.”
“Well, my party planner just so happens to be Catalina Veléz, and that woman would never allow one of her events to trend with anything less than the perfection she puts into them,” I said. “Now, give me a damn cinnamon roll while they’re fresh.”
That evening,everything was set for the guys to kidnap Jim and haul his ass to my party wearing Frank Shirley’s Christmas pajamas. The girls were still here, but I would be bringing them to Ash’s place after I staged my meltdown in…three…two…one….
“You’vegotto be fucking kidding me. No!” I shouted in horror.
“What the hell is wrong?” Jim said, rushing out of his office and into the living room where I sat next to the fireplace.
“My party,” I shrieked. “It’s not going to happen.”
