Page 19 of The Holidays with Mr. Mitchell
“Bad day at work, Jacob?” I questioned my brother, knowing that when he usually lost a patient, he turned into a dick, and we simply navigated around him carefully until he came back around.
Jake’s eyes roamed over to the men sitting across from him, then to the executives sitting around me. I would’ve sworn my brother was angry for a moment, but then that damn Jake-smile crept up in the corner of his mouth.
“Meh,” he sat back in his chair, then raised his glass of scotch to me, “cheers to everyone who is in any way, shape, or form tied to Mitchell and Associates…”
I frowned, not knowing what to think about this.
“Indeed,” Collin chimed in, “for their Christmases shall all be filled with cheer and the gifts that keep on fucking giving…”
“I’ll raise my glass to that,” John Aster said, one of the doctors I was starting to suspect might be plotting a holiday-season coup.
“Listen,” I said, “before any of this shit goes any further, there will beno retaliationfrom last year. We all settled that damn score.” I paused, took a sip of my bourbon, and eyed the men, “So, whatever dumb shit you guys are planning, I’mnotin the mood.”
“Whenwasthe last time you got laid, man?” Sebastian Aster asked, bringing my attention to him while the group around me quietly laughed.
“What the hell are you talking about, Seb?” I questioned, thinking I might’ve been wrong to assume this was all part of thedoctors versus CEOsnewest holiday prank.
“When’s the Christmas party, big guy?” Spencer questioned, my eyes widening that my right-hand man was joining in on something I wasn’t aware of yet.
“I hadn’t planned on doing one,” I answered, motioning to the waitress for another drink. “If you can’t recall, wejustattended two galasanda fundraiser that my daughter held. All within weeks of each other in November alone.”
“Ahh,” Jake said, jumping back into the conversation he’d started. “So,naturally, you should cancel the Christmas events for everyone else, then!” He narrowed his eyes at me, “It seems your Scrooge-loving ass notonlycanceled bonuses this year, but you also canceled the charity Christmas ball—not just for the hospital, but also, based on Spencer’s question, for Mitchell and Associates as well?Globalcancellation?”
I eyed my brother, watching him hang on that last word as if he were uncovering some dark secret plan I’d been forming since last Christmas.
“I have no idea what the hell is going on here,” I said, glancing at Spencer, “especially with your ass.” I looked aroundthe table at the rest of them, who seemed to be treating me like the enemy. “No, we won’t be hosting holiday charity events for Christmas this year. We’ve raised and donated enough. The tax write-offs are all beautifully orchestrated, so there’s no need for any more this year.”
“Holy shit,” Alex chuckled more in shock than humor. “Did you really intentionally cancel Christmas for everyone at Mitchell and Associates and under the umbrella?”
“He sure did,” Jace Stone popped off next.
“The hell I did,” I defended myself. “I spent over a million fucking dollars for gourmet charcuterie boards and champagne for everyone. It was efficient and a nice change from the same mundane bullshit I approve every year.”
Jake shook his head. “Tsk, tsk, big brother,” he said, smiling as if I’d dug my own grave and I wouldn’t have to worry about him doing it this year. “You truly have outdone yourself, and I’m fairly certain all of the many Clark Griswolds in your company…” he paused, took a sip as if he were somehow an advocate for the entire company, “you know, all uslittle guys?We now get the equivalent of aChristmas Vacationbonus.”
“The fucking Jelly of the Month club,” Collin chimed in. “Thanks a lot, Jimmy.” He smirked like a cocky bastard, “Nothing saysThank you for doing countless craniotomies, getting no sleep, and saving lives day after daylike receiving a fucking cheese tray and bottle of champagne.”
“Not to mention my wife met all his demands for his and Hawk’s newest projects in record time, and she even brought that shit in under budget, all for his Scrooge-ass to provide us asharedcheese tray and bottle of champagne,” Alex added with half sarcasm and half pride in Bree’s architectural talents. “We didn’t even get two!”
My lips tightened, “Really, dickheads? You’re going to take theonlyChristmas movie I like watching and use it against me?”
“No,” Spence, myformerright-hand partner in crime, spoke up against me, “you just took a page out of Gris’s boss’s playbook and did that shit to yourself.”
“I did nothing wrong,” I stood my ground. “I changed shit up this year, that’s all. I meant nothing asshole-ish by it.”
“Let me guess. The meat and cheese tray and champagne are all coming from places you own, Jimbo?” Jake asked, using the name I always hated being called.
“Only the best for my associates, doctors, and companies,” I defended myself.
“So, that’s it, then,” Collin said to everyone in the group. “Jimmy thinks he’s off the hook for cancelling Christmas this year.”
“I didn’t think it would be that big of a fucking deal,” I said as I started to feel more and more like a piece of shit. “The charities are funded, we don’t need the Christmas parties, and you guys don’t even need the bonus. You’re all fucking billionaires,” I eyed everyone, reminding them they were all being petty.
“Billionaires who just so happen to donate the monumental bonuses we bust our asses for every year to our own personal charities,” Jake said. “It’s all a ripple effect, Jimbo. You know this. So, you can personally tell our charities,afteryou tell your employees who were counting on their bonuses this year, why your cheap ass fucked all of them.”
“People look forward to that shit, Jim,” John said. “You might want to reconsider. I mean…” he paused. “Have you heard from Avery yet about our Christmas bonuses that arrived this afternoon?”
“No,” I froze.
