Page 93 of The Holidays with Mr. Mitchell
Titus stood and buttoned his suit jacket. “I hate to say it, but I’ll be missing the festivities. My brothers and I are flying to Madrid tomorrow. In addition to meeting with my usual local lady, I’ll be in meetings, finalizing open deals, and most likely indulging in some brotherly-family chaos aboard my yacht.”
“That’s a shame,” I said. “I had a seat saved with a plus-one for you next to a life-size nutcracker.”
“Tragic,” he said dryly. “Send me pictures. I’ll need proof of this circus of yours.”
“I’m sure you could just check what’s trending on social media and see for yourself what you’re missing out on,” I chuckled.
“I’m sure I’ll regret missing your party while scrolling online as a Spaniard beauty lay in my arms on Christmas morning,” he taunted.
A vibration rumbled through the glass windows behind me, followed by the low rhythmic chop of blades.
Titus arched a brow. “And even though he pretends to be a simple family man at Christmas with his wife and daughters, the man is about to make the same entrance I would make at any of my grand-scale events. Minus the candy canes, of course.”
“Avery will clearly realize she’s lost this little planning war when she sees my venue, flying in like she's riding in on Santa’s sleigh to the North Pole itself.”
“You’ve lost your damn mind,” Titus clapped me on the shoulder as we left the office and headed toward the elevators. “Enjoy your celebrations,” he said, taking the elevator down to where his driver awaited, and I took the rooftop elevators to where my family had just landed.
The moment I stepped onto the rooftop helipad, the city seemed to hold its breath. The sunset now poured like molten gold across the glass towers, and my helicopter sat waiting like a sleek, black jewel—polished, quiet, and utterly unapologetic.
It wasn’t a standard chopper. This one had been custom-fitted when I ordered it—an ACH160 executive conversion (for anyone who cared about helicopters), and it was trimmed in chestnut leather and brushed nickel. Inside, a low couch stretched along one side of the cabin, with a built-in bar across from it, stocked with chilled champagne, eggnog for the girls, and crystal tumblers to enjoy all of it in. Captain-style seats faced the back, giving the girls a perfect view of the skyline.
The cabin was pressurized and whisper-quiet, allowing us to talk at a normal volume, no headsets needed. It was nothing new for me to travel in a private helicopter like this; however,I appreciated the luxury even more, especially when my family was traveling with me in one of my choppers.
Especially tonight, when I wanted to hear everyone’s reactions as we flew up to my North Pole venue.
As I approached the chopper, I saw Avery seated on the couch, with Addy and Izzy tucked against her, their laughter muffled by the glass as the rotor blades spun. When the door opened, warm air and the faint scent of her perfume hit me like gravity.
“Good evening, Mr. Mitchell,” my pilot greeted me. “We’re set for the North Pole,” he said with a chuckle, playing along with the script I’m sure that Karen gave the flight department when I scheduled the chopper to fly us in tonight.
“Evening,” I smiled at him, then looked at the only things on the chopper I loved with all my heart.
“This is quite the upgrade from the luxury bus,” Avery said with a smirk, voice teasing over the roar outside. “I still assure you thatyourtransportation to my event tomorrow will be much more thrilling.”
I stepped up and ducked inside, the noise falling away the second the door sealed. It was as if the chaos outside evaporated.
“I look forward to it,” I said with a grin. “Competitions aside, are you comfortable?”
“Very, and I’m happy you’re looking forward to it,” Avery shot me a wry look. “However, for you? It appears you kidnapped us in style. I’ll give you points for that.”
“Escorted,” I corrected, taking the seat across from her. “Though, should your use of the wordkidnapbe something I should take into consideration regarding event transportation?”
Avery rolled her eyes. “Not in the slightest,” she said, brushing off my comment.
“Dad, this is awesome,” Addy said, getting up with Izzy, and both girls sitting in the captain seats to enjoy the view.
“Can we have eggnog, too?”
“Of course,” I answered, “once we’re underway. There’s no better way to arrive at our version of the North Pole than with eggnog in hand, in awe of what we pulled off together.”
“Mom, you’re gonna die,” Addy said. “And that’s all I’m saying.”
Avery grinned and leaned into me after I sat next to her on the small sofa. We may have laid down our swords in the party competition department, but I knew this wasn’t over until after her party tomorrow. So, instead of focusing on our rivalry, I wanted to savor this moment with her and our girls before the joyful chaos of the event—and of my company partners and employees—pulled us apart for the night.
I used this moment to kiss her gently, letting the magic of the night ahead fully embrace me and my family. I watched as the city gleamed through the windows like a string of diamonds below us as the pilot lifted off. Now, we were underway, bringing everything full circle and proving to my wife that I was no Scrooge when it came to the holidays or showing appreciation for those at Mitchell and Associates.
I watched as Addy and Izzy pressed their faces to the glass, squealing at the shrinking skyline. My breath caught when Avery’s smile softened as she watched them. She was breathtaking, reminding me how grateful I was to no longer be a bachelor, rushing off to spend the holidays with a random mistress. Enamored by her as always, I admired the way the console’s light gilded her hair and made her eyes sparkle, like the champagne I was about to pour. She was everything my heart longed for whenever we were apart, and once again, I realized my love for her was more than a feeling—she made me whole.
THIRTY-FIVE
