Page 29 of The Holidays with Mr. Mitchell
I nodded. “Fair point,” I said. “Book our venue for the day before Christmas Eve, so it will precede Avery’s.”
“Very good.”
Karen walked out of my office, and I couldn’t help but smile at all this bullshit. I swear, when the invoices came for this littleloving family competitionthat we’d found ourselves in, mainly because of my pride and ego, it was going to be one hell of a bill. And after paying for all these festivities, I should be named Forbes 500 Man of Christmas—not just the year.
TWELVE
Avery
Cat’s smilehaddangerwritten all over it. She set her champagne glass on the edge of the gas firepit, eyes glittering. “This is the new plan, since we’re scrapping Huntington Gardens.”
I smiled and glanced at Ash, sitting across from me as we discussed the updated plans with Cat on Ash and Jake’s second-story porch, which offered sweeping views of the Pacific and Malibu Beach below.
It was a perfect fall night, just the ladies and me up here, away from the kids. Our scheming to kick my husband’s ass at this Mitchell family war he’d declared was in full swing. The sun had dipped below the horizon, and the cool breeze had prompted sweater weather. Nothing felt more perfect than sitting around the fire pit with hot cider, discussing Christmas décor, and plotting.
“Okay, tell me you came up with something better,” I answered while Ash chuckled. “He needs to feel the pain ofnearly costing himself his reputation within his entire company because of those stupid cheese boards and champagne, trying to call that shit a holiday. Now he wants to play with his planner?”
“And honey,” Cat said with a grin, “now you’re playing with yours.”
“Damn right, she is,” Ash said.
“Okay, so what do you have for us?” I questioned, excited to get this planning started.
“Well,” Cat grinned, “I learned today that Jim is intending to turn the Shrine Auditorium into his personal North Pole. My plan is simple: let him play Santa to try and redeem himself. His event is the day beforeyourparty, so on Christmas Eve, we’ll make sure everyone remembers the Scrooge he almost was with his chessboards.”
“Hold up. The Shrine…where they host the Oscars?” Ash questioned Cat with a laugh. “Can you top that?”
Cat laughed. “CanItop that? Honey, I can top that with my eyes closed and both hands tied behind my back,” she looked at me. “Here is what I know. Jim’s planner is going along with Addy and Izzy’s idea for a North Pole-themed event.”
“Oh, that’s cute,” I said. “Because of the girls, of course,” I laughed.
“Popcorn and confetti,” Cat said, taking another sip of champagne. “We’re going for glitter and diamonds, ladies,” she grinned coyly. “Oh, another important detail is that Jim also plans to hand out the bonuses he almost scrapped on Christmas as well.”
“Well, if nothing else, at least we got him to hand out the bonuses,” I shrugged, thankful that Jim wasn’t being as uptight as before.
“Exactly, which means we don’t need to include the formalities of any of that in our planning,” she nodded in agreement. “This is why I recommend taking a more excitingroute. And since you both are making this a fun holiday family war, I say we go all out to beat him by reminding him how close he came to being viewed as old Ebenezer Scrooge to his entire company.”
Ash let out a laugh. “Oh, I already love this.”
“Well, I can assure you they’re feeling that way about him right now,” I raised a brow. “However, I like this way of affirming that they weren’t far off until he was caught,” I said, taking a sip of cider. “So, how do you plan on making this happen?”
“We rent out Paramount Studios,” Cat purred. “The Dickens backlot. I’ll have fog rolling, cobblestones dusted in snow, old gas lamplights glowing.”
“Ilovethat,” I said. “Literally going into the movie,A Christmas Carol, on Christmas Eve.”
“Precisely,” Cat answered.
“Are we to dress the part?” Ash questioned.
“Most definitely. Jim needs encouragement to get the walking cane and top hat on,” Cat smirked. “Now, I will have guests arrive by carriage and be greeted by carolers. The shopfronts will be lit up just like you’re walking in Victorian London. Marquee’s pastries will be in the bakery windows, and of course, roasted chestnuts and mulled wine steaming on every corner.”
I took another sip of my cider, more than excited to experience this than to beat Jim at party planning.
“The hired actors will weave through the crowd as Scrooge, Marley, Tiny Tim—little vignettes to keep the magic alive,” Cat went on. “And then,” she lifted her hand in a flourish, “we will sweep them into Fezziwig’s ball. I’ll have chandeliers, velvet drapes, an orchestra swelling into carols, and a tree dripping in Swarovski crystals. It will make Jim’s North Pole event look like the Santa photo booth in the mall.”
I shook my head, grinning. “Okay, it’s dramatic and genius. I absolutely love it. But how exactly are you pulling this off?”
Cat’s smile sharpened. “Studio buyout, set designers, Michelin-star-inspired chefs for the banquets, and a talented singer doing music for the finale. And because I don’t do anything halfway, each hotel suite for employees and company associates will have its own tree fully decorated before they even arrive.”
