Page 88 of The Holidays with Mr. Mitchell
“Holy—” Addy caught herself, her voice trailing off as she stared.
“We did it, Dad,” Izzy squealed. “I just know we won this thing.”
“Me too,” I smiled, chuckling softly at the reactions I’d been waiting for all day since I saw this first thing this morning on my own.
Before us, a cobblestone path wound past trimmed evergreens lit with golden bulbs and crystal stars. Rows of hand-carved log cottages flanked the village center, all wrapped in frosted garlands and topped with glowing signs in gold script for Santa’s Post Office, the Reindeer Flight Academy, Mrs. Claus’s Confectionery, the Elf University, and the Sleighworks Engineering Bay.
Every detail gleamed like something plucked from a snow globe.
We stepped into the village. The crunch beneath our shoes was real snow, imported from Lake Tahoe by Karen. Projectors mounted discreetly on rooftops cast shimmering waves of the aurora borealis across the darkening sky.
Then there was a towering fir tree at the village’s center, easily sixty feet tall, strung with programmable lights that pulsed in time with the soft instrumental version ofCarol of the Bellsplaying overhead.
Karen stepped out from inside one of the cottages, tablet in hand, with an expectant and victorious expression.
“Well?” she asked. “What do you think, girls?”
“This might actually outdo Paramount,” Addy chirped. “I think we may have won this,” she said, looking back at me, then smiling at Karen.
“I know we did,” Karen offered. “How about you, Izzy?”
“Mom has a ballroom, though,” she truthfully admitted, so like me in not missing one ounce of detail.
“Oh, we do, too,” Karen smiled. “You’ll see. But first, you must journey through Santa’s Village.”
We passedSanta’s Observatory, where an animated telescope moved under a domed glass roof, tracking the nightsky above the North Pole.Elf Universityfeatured long oak tables that were set up for cookie decorating, snowflake crafting, and toy blueprint drafting. Every station was pristine and ready for all the company’s children to create fun, crafty Christmas memories.
“This is where the kids will check in tomorrow night,” Karen explained. “Each gets an elf name badge. They’ll be escorted by staff in full costume who are Santa-approved, background-checked, and Disneyland-trained.”
I grinned. “And what about Santa?”
Karen tilted her head. “He’s arriving via sleigh, but only after the snow starts to fall inside the ballroom.”
Addy’s brows shot up. “There’s snow… in the ballroom?”
Karen gestured for us to follow.
We walked through the final arch, this one carved from white chocolate, and entered the main lodge.
“This is what we’re callingThe Grand Ballroom of Winter Dreams,” Karen said excitedly to the girls.
Inside the ballroom was an ice-skating rink that dominated the center, encircled by chalet-style booths trimmed in gold and holly. The tables were set with frosted-glass chargers, velvet napkins, and icicle-shaped crystal candelabras. Above us was a massive sleigh, hand-carved from red cedar, hung suspended in mid-air, and glowing from within. Snow machines were hidden in the rafters, already calibrated for the exact moment guests would walk in.
“You positively nailed this,” I said under my breath.
The girls wandered ahead, spinning slowly, taking it all in.
I stepped back, crossing my arms, watching them.
The charcuterie boards and champagne bottles wouldn’t even be a thought in any of my employees’ minds after they indulged themselves in the party that the girls and I dreamt up and Karen had brought to life.
This wasn’t just a party. It was a takeover. A statement that James Mitchell didn’t just show up for Christmas, heownedit.
THIRTY-THREE
Avery
It wasthe morning of Jim’s party, and I couldn’t wait to see what he had cooked up. All I knew was that he had moved the venue to the San Bernardino Mountains.
