Page 97 of The Holidays with Mr. Mitchell
THIRTY-SIX
Jim
The momentthe first champagne cork popped, I knew I was screwed.
Not because the event wasn’t perfect—it was. The place looked like Santa himself had handed over his design blueprints. Inside the lodge glowed gold, the music drifted from the string quartet near the hearth, and snow fell just outside the towering windows in perfect cinematic timing. Outside was spectacular on its own, and that’s where most of the guests had ended up.
Instead of being anywhere near the ballroom, they were out making memories with their children, enjoying horse-drawn sleigh rides, decorating Christmas cookies, making Christmas candy…you fucking name it. They were in Santa’s village, truly immersed in the magic of the holiday.
That wasn’t why I was fucked. It was because the peopleIexpectedto be outside running around like elves at Christmas were in here, waiting for this exact moment, after I’d peeledmyself away from most company executives, and had three moments of peace.
Jake, Spencer, Collin, Alex, and Sebastian were standing at the bar like a pack of wolves waiting for blood.
“Jimmy,” Jake called, raising his glass. “Are you sure this isn’t the North Pole’s new resort launch?”
“Careful,” Collin added. “One more mistletoe arrangement and Santa’s gonna sue you for copyright infringement. I did see where you had my idea of nutcrackers trending all over the fucking place. Nice touch, man. I appreciate it.”
“Speaking of trending,” Sebastian, the most composed of the group, said with a smirk, “your ass is all over the internet again. #MrChristmas.”
“Of course it is,” I groaned as I ordered a bourbon. “But I would be surprised if it weren’t because I just created a Christmas party that my wife will never be able to top.”
As I took a sip of bourbon, I watched Jake and Collin eye each other just long enough to raise suspicion.
“Hashtag blessed,” Spencer said with a grin, clinking glasses with Jake. “You might as well lean into it, pal. You’ve achieved every husband’s worst nightmare—you’ve made the rest of us look like underachievers.”
“What was that look you just gave Collin, Jakey?” I questioned, knowing those two always had something up their fucking sleeve around the holidays.
“What look?” Collin asked.
“A look that tells me that my trending tonight is going to be nothing compared to tomorrow night,” I said, eyeing the men’s guilty expressions.
“Whoa, Mr. Paranoid,” Jake chuckled, taking a sip of his scotch. “Just because I’m giving my best friend fuck-me eyes, doesn’t mean you’re going to be trending on social media tomorrow, too. Arrogant much?”
“I agree,” Collin clinked his glass to Jake’s. “Tonight, he trends; tomorrow, we shall see if Avery’s party trends just the same.”
“Well, after the amount of money spent on herLondon setat Paramount Studios tomorrow, I imagine it will do the same as this event,” I said, still eyeing both men, but feeling a little more at ease that they were just dumbasses sometimes, and I probably had nothing to worry about with Avery’s party.
But I’d be dammed if my gut instinct didn’t keep insisting otherwise.
“Why are you paranoid anyway?” Alex questioned. “There’s nothing Avery can come up with that can top this, man. My twins are lost with Bree and the ladies somewhere out in Santa’s village, making cookies with Mrs. Claus or something. That’s pretty hard to beat.”
“And we’re in here, boozing it up, just like dads always do when the ladies take over the holiday fun for us,” Spencer proclaimed too loudly.
“Say that loud enough for Nat to hear, and we’ll all be watching you give tours through the elves’ workshop with all the kids,” I teased.
“I will admit, big bro,” Jake said, “I did not think you had this shit in you. This is something out of a classic Christmas cartoon brought to life.” He touched his glass to mine. “I’m impressed.”
“So, you thought that this dipshit here,” I nodded toward Collin, “was theonlyone who could pull this off because of his epic office nutcracker decorations?”
“Oh, no,” Collin chimed in. “This comes nowhere near my creativity.”
“Your creativity is more like turning Christmas decorations into crude sexual innuendos,” Sebastian said with a laugh.
“You saw Jake’s office, too?” I said, surprised that Sebastian had seen the bullshit pranks that Collin pulled on my brother.
“No,” he laughed. “I saw what Collin did to my brother’s office.”
“Dear God,” I looked at Collin. “What the hell is really wrong with you? You got John’s office flanked with snowballs painted blue, too? In an OBGYN’s office?”
