Page 56 of The Holidays with Mr. Mitchell
“I can’t remember,” Jim said flatly.
“Oh, that’s right. It wasI’ll Be Home for Christmas,” Jake announced proudly. “And it was at that moment my brother realized that brown trees deserved a home, too.”
The camera caught Spencer in the background, trying and failing not to laugh.
Jake faced the reporters again, dead serious. “It’s not just people who are less fortunate this year, it’s nature as well. It’s the things we overlook. My brother’s vision reminds us that everything deserves a home for Christmas. So, folks, go to his new website—The Rescue Tree—and save a brown tree this holiday season.”
“I have a website?” Jim muttered with confusion, looking at Jake like he had just found out his car had been towed.
As they wrapped up the segment, I read the chyron at the bottom of the screen:
BILLIONAIRE CEO DUBBED ‘FATHER CHRISTMAS’ AFTER RESCUING REJECTED TREES
I lost it completely. “They even made a website?” I wheezed, clutching my stomach. This had clearly turned into something that I could not unfuck.
The anchor returned, all heart-eyes and sincerity. “Truly an inspiring reminder that even the forgotten can shine again. For those wanting to join the cause, visit Mr. Mitchell’s website for his rescue tree foundation, where lots are showcasing their brown trees that will be chipped if not rescued.”
I shut off the TV, still laughing.
“Father Christmas,” I snickered again at the title I’d been calling Jim all weekend since the?—
Oh shit.
That’s how he’d know I was behind this. Oh, fuck me. Jacob Mitchell, why would you let them label him that?
Good God, when Jim walked through the door now, all I could do was hope that his only retaliation for this was letting my apple pie get cold.
TWENTY-TWO
Jim
The smellof fries and salt hung in the air—America’s finest perfume. The girls and I sat in a quiet nook at McDonald’s, reviewing the new, cute ideas my event planner had come up with for our company party. Since Avery opted out of joining us tonight—gee, I wonder why?—I used this time to show the girls how we were bringing in more North Pole props to greet our employees at the Shrine.
Avery’s last text made me smile. Retaliation for my gorgeous wife would be nothing short of her feeling exactly how I’d felt after being plastered on camera for God and everyone to see, painted as some soft-hearted billionaire rescuing brown Christmas trees that, quite honestly, needed to be chipped before they caught everything on fire.
If I really wanted to explain what was going on with every brown tree sitting on a lot, I’d tell the world it came down to bad business. Cut too early. Shipped too early. And withSouthern California’s eighty-degree winter days, those fuckers didn’t stand a chance baking on blacktop for a month.
But this wasn’t about bad planning on the tree farm’s part. This was about the fact that I was now a “compassionate CEO” who apparently couldn’t stand to see a dying fir go unadopted, which was bullshit. I didn’t feel sorry for those trees. Hell, I was perfectly fine with our artificial one. The only reason I pulled the idea of a real tree out of my ass was to keep Avery occupied at the farm all day—stalling her permits, stoking her irritation, and giving myself a breather.
Now? Now I wasFather Christmas, trending all over social media, while my brother sold the story to the press from my office. And Avery? Her cute ass was probably curled up on the couch right now, watching every second of it.
“I love all of it,” Addy said, sliding the folder toward Izzy to show the new holiday sets. She slurped the last of her milkshake. “I don’t care if Mom’s is better or not. Ours is bright and cheerful and everything that makes Christmas exciting.”
I grinned. “Well, after your mother’s little collaboration with Spencer, Uncle Jake, and Collin today, I have a feeling that by the time I finish my retaliation plan, she won’t care who wins Christmas. She’ll just be glad we’re celebrating as a family again.”
“Oh, no,” Izzy said. “What happened?”
Addy flipped her phone around to show her the trending TikTok feed. While Addy laughed, Izzy covered her mouth, eyes wide.
“What’s the latest one?” I asked, already knowing this circus had blown up since my lunch with Alex and Sebastian.
Addy sighed, reading aloud, “Imagine getting a charcuterie board for Christmas, then watching your boss on the news having a heart for dead pine trees.” She looked up. “Hashtag:MitchellsDontCare.”
She cringed. I rolled my eyes. Izzy’s jaw dropped. “Mom did not do this to you!”
“Oh, it wasn’t just Mom,” I said, smirking. “Jake and Collin couldn’t resist. You know how those two are.”
Izzy giggled; Addy frowned. “So? How are you going to fix this?”
