Page 44 of The Holidays with Mr. Mitchell
By the time she realized why I suddenly felt the need to replace our usual tree with a real one, she’d understand that two could play these little games of stalling each other’s plans.
Having learned—thanks to Jake’s loose tongue—that Avery had used Spence and the Madrid deal to derail me from focusing on mine and the girls’ party, I’d simply found an entertaining way to return the favor. The plan had the sparkle of a prankand the precision of a business strategy, which made italmostfestive.
By the time we were done today, Avery would not be ahead of me, but one step behind. My adorable wife was planning to use one of Paramount Studios’ lots to build an elaborate set for her company party. I had no idea what the hell she was building or why a Christmas celebration required a soundstage at Paramount Studios, but I did know one thing—you always needed to be ten steps ahead of permits and construction crews, since they loved missing deadlines.
With Cat at the helm, it was unlikely her teams would miss a single date. That made this even more enjoyable. Cat Veléz was the definition of precision—organized, ambitious, and frighteningly good at what she did. Nothing ever stopped her from meeting her goals or deadlines. But when her client’s husband just happened to be her competitionandthe one who was needed for signatures for both company parties? Well, that was a game even Cat didn’t know how to play.
Now that I knew Avery’s move to slow me down, it was time for mine: Avery and Cat needed my signature on two permits for her set builds. With the Madrid deal demanding every second of my attention, I’d simply “run out of time” to sign Cat’s permits while there—blaming back-to-back meetings.
Spencer, of course, had offered to handle it, but I’d told my double-crossing VP that he’d already helped enough, and what hecoulddoto help me, rather thanmy schemingwife, was to inform Cat that I’d sign them upon my return—which would’ve been today. Saturday. The day I suddenly decided we needed a real tree, something I honestly couldn’t have cared less about.
So, with all of us now heading to the Christmas tree farm for a family tree, it looked like Cat and her team would have to wait until Sunday or Monday for my signature. In the world of studio construction, that meant at least four full days behindschedule. That put me even, since I’d already lost four myself—and if you knew anything about set production, four days could easily stretch into seven. I was back in the game, and Avery was no longer cheating her way to the win.
Avery couldn’t exactly be angry with me, could she? She’d practically supported the wholepush-him-out-of-the-countryscheme to get ahead in planning.
I was almost disappointed she hadn’t brought it up yet. Maybe Cat hadn’t called to remind her I was supposed to sign today. Unfortunately for both of them, nothing could stop our newest family tradition, family day at the Christmas tree farm.
“All right,” I said, putting the SUV in park. “No cell phones, remember?”
“Oh, Dad, c’mon,” Addy said, trying to whine but eyeing me through the rearview because she knew her role to play.
We needed Avery not to check her phone untilafterwe were done here. There was no way I was going to let Cat throw this all off when the planner realized my signature hadn’t been faxed over to her yet.
“You promised,” Izzy said, trying not to giggle.
“I’m going to need mine, though,” Avery said. “Just in case. Cat said there might be?—”
“Now, now,” I placed my hand gently over to cover hers, gripping her phone. “I thought you hired the most insanely sought-after planner for a reason, my love?”
She eyed me, “I did.”
“Good,” I smiled. “Cat solves everything for her clients and takes care of issues like there were never any problems to begin with. She’s known for her skilled effort in not allowing her clients to sit by their phones and worry over her planning.”
“But, I just?—”
“If you don’t want to be part of our family day of getting arealtree this year,” I arched an eyebrow as I guilt-tripped her, “then stay with your phone. We’re going to go pick out a tree.”
“Lord,” Avery said, shoving her phone in the console where I placed Addy’s.
“Your phone, too,” Avery pressed.
“Unfortunately, Cat isn’t my planner, and because the ink is still wet on the de la Vega paperwork, I need that phone until I’m assured it’s dry.” I smiled when she rolled her eyes, “I promise you that I will not be on it unless I get a call from them.”
“Let’s go get the tree,” Addy said, setting us into motion to waste the entire day.
This would most definitely have me holding off on signing those permits until Monday, and Avery and Cat officially pacing alongside me in our party planning war.
The lot was packed. There were families snapping pictures under garlands, kids dragging trees twice their size, and the air thick with fake snow from a machine some overzealous vendor thought would make Los Angeles feel festive.
“Dad!” Addy called, darting between rows of firs. “This one’s huge!”
I followed her voice, Avery close behind, while Izzy rushed over to another tree. The farm was adorable, its acreage spanning miles, with Christmas trees, horse-drawn wagons, and vendors selling caramel apples, as well as a variety of things riddled with holiday spices. It was just as festive as I’d hoped, and as huge as I’d requested when I’d asked Jake about the largest lot where we could waste an entire day finding a tree we didn’t need.
Thank God my brother felt a little bad that Avery had sent my ass off to Madrid. I could certainly use him and Collin on my team. Didn’t think I’d land those two, but somehow, I managed,and they would be here any minute to ensure this would stall us in the manner I needed it to.
I walked over to the tree Addy stood next to, which was enormous, crooked, and shedding faster than a dog in July.
I crouched, pretending to study it. “Hmm. Lean’s too far west.”
