Page 23 of The Holidays with Mr. Mitchell
“Still dead, either way, Dad.”
“Okay, fine. Let’s make sure Dad doesn’t get haunted by the ghost of Christmas horrors this year, shall we?”
“Mom already called that pretty lady. She’s planning it.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “You just ate all our ice creamandalso knew Mom hired the coordinator?”
“Cat,” she confirmed.
My damn kids were way too smart for their own good sometimes. But no one outsmarted me.
“How’d you know about this sneaky little thing Mom did, but I had no clue until tonight?”
She gave me the sassy Izzy grin. “I heard mom talking with Aunt Laney, Aunt Nat, and Aunt Ash when we were at Aunt Jessa and Uncle Cam’s tonight.”
“That’s certainly a mouthful, isn’t it?” I said, narrowing my eyes at the treachery all my friends’ wives were participating in with my wife. It seemed I would need to squeeze Izzy for information to stay ahead of the army of wives coming after me and my company’s shares to host a damn Christmas celebration.
Hell, at this point, the only person still talking to me was Izzy. Even the husbands were pissed at my ass and would love for this shit to steamroll me in every way.
“I’d like to scold you for eavesdropping on grown folks’ conversations, but tonight, it’s been very helpful.”
“Why, because mom’s gonna kick your butt?”
I needed another shot of bourbon.
“Something like that. Want to be on Dad’s side? We’ll make it fun and call it our little family Christmas party war.”
“Oh, Dad,” she said with a laugh. “I don’t think we’ll win. Mom has Cat.”
“But we have each other, Izzy Bear,” I said, like a desperate fool. “Mom’s going to make me eat this because I was foolish not to think of those less fortunate for Christmas this year. I need your cute ideas to make this the most adorable, andnotover-the-top Christmas event.”
“Now, you’re just manipulating me,” she said.
“You’re too smart for your own good,” I finally said out loud, turning back to my computer to search for some things so I’d have ideas by morning. “And manipulation is more like me offering you more ice cream for more answers.”
“That’s why everyone says I’m like you,” she smiled, kissed my cheek. “I’ll wash and dry the bowl, so Mom never finds out about the ice cream.”
“You’re quite sneaky, you know that?” I stared at her, and she grinned. “I could really use you on my team.”
“I’m sneaky, Dad, not stupid,” she said. “I’m not going against Mom, especially after what she’s planning.”
“What’s she planning?” I questioned.
“Mom said we couldn’t say.”
“Huh? We never keep secrets in this family,” I said.
“I know, but it’s not a secret if it’s a fun Christmas war game, right?”
“I couldreallyuse you, Izzy,” I said. “Pretty please?”
“Dad,” she begged.
“Please?”
Her eyes narrowed, “There’s no way we’re winning this.”
“I think with our two great minds thinking alike, we’ve got a good chance up against Mom, Cat Veléz, and everyone in my company?”
