Page 95 of The Holidays with Mr. Mitchell
The landing pad came into view, glowing in circles of white and gold, rimmed with animated snowflakes that pulsed to the rhythm of the music. And at the center, written in lights so bright they looked carved from starlight, were the words:
Mitchell and Associates and Families: Welcome to Evergreen Hollow
My heart twisted.I’d spent weeks thinking this whole rivalry between our events was about who could out-plan the other,putting Jim in his place for being a cheapskate. But now, as I stared down at the living, breathing North Pole he’d built, I realized it had never been a competition for him.
It was always a gift for us to enjoy as a family and for the company he worked hard for to provide us with a comfortable life. Jim always went deeper, while I played on the feistier side of things, and that’s what I loved so much about this man.
The helicopter hovered for a moment before descending through a cloud of artificial snow. The sound softened, muffled by the flakes, until it felt like we were falling through a dream.
When the skids touched down, Addy and Izzy squealed, unbuckling before the blades had even slowed.
Jim rose first and turned toward me, his voice low and warm. “Ready to see what you inspired by ensuring I wasn’t a Scrooge this year?”
I swallowed hard, the world outside glowing like a fairytale through the tinted glass. “You never cease to amaze me with anything you put your mind and heart to, handsome.”
He smiled, offered his hand, and with that familiar, infuriatingly confident tone said, “Then I must’ve already won our war?”
“Let’s not take advantage of me being overwhelmed with your big heart just yet,” I smiled at him, “but I will say, you’re pretty damn close to kicking my ass with all of this.”
“So, we won?” Addy asked with a laugh.
“That will be for Dad’s employees to judge,” I said, “and they’re not coming in by helicopter.” I offered Jim a challenging smirk, “Hopefully, no one got car sick coming up on those buses,” I chuckled. “All right, we ladies need to change. Where’s the place they kept our dresses?”
“We have private rooms upstairs in the lodge,” Jim said. “All of our friends and family will be staying the night here with usand wake up for cinnamon rolls on Christmas Eve morning in Mrs. Claus’s dining hall,” he proudly proclaimed.
“Well, well,” I said, “you are intent on being labeled Father Christmas.”
“I am what I am,” he shrugged, and with a tender kiss, the girls and I disappeared into the lodge to get into our dresses and brace for the night ahead.
Upstairs in our suite,the air smelled faintly of peppermint, pine, and the soft crackle of the fire burning in the sitting room hearth. Snow still fell in thick, lazy flakes outside the windows, blanketing the world beyond in quiet white. I could almost believe Jim wasn’t using snow machines to create this winter wonderland with how much it reminded me of our Christmas trip to Switzerland last year.
I finished putting my diamond earrings in, then turned to check on the girls. I smiled when I watched Izzy twirling in her emerald velvet dress, curls bouncing as she twisted to look at her bow on the back. And Addy sat like an angel, scrolling through her phone so as not to do anything to wrinkle her dress.
I was so thankful Jim fell for myno wrinklesshit. It was the only way I knew I could get away with having his wardrobe for my party delivered to Paramount without him asking why the girls and I were wearing Victorian-era costumes to a Christmas party.
I smoothed my hands down my gown, a stunning, long, winter-white gown with gold embroidery along the hem, when a knock came at the door.
Addy darted to open it before I could say a word.
“Whoa,” she breathed. “Dad, you look like you’re about to walk into a magazine.”
Jim leaned in the doorway, all tuxedo and confidence, snow dusting his dark overcoat. His tie was undone, collar slightly open, and he smiled when his gaze met mine. “You’re all stunning.”
Izzy grinned. “Are we going through the village now?”
“Not quite yet,” he said, stepping inside. “First, I have a surprise. For all of you.”
I folded my arms, suspicious. “You and your surprises.”
He smirked. “You seem so concerned about them that I am starting to feel I need to worry about your party.”
“I just don’t trust you entirely yet,” I walked up and stood on my toes to kiss his cheek.
“I’m done with the pranks, love,” he smiled at me. “I’ve had enough of social media for one lifetime.” He extended his hand. “Now, come with me.”
The girls squealed and rushed ahead of us, nearly tripping over their satin skirts as they raced down the corridor toward the elevator. Jim looked at me, that half-smile deepening. “You ready, Mrs. Mitchell?”
I couldn’t help but be dazzled by him and this moment. “I am,” I said, leaning into where I held onto the inside of his arm.
