Page 31 of The Holidays with Mr. Mitchell
“And that’s why I don’t trust you, Jacob Mitchell,” I said. “You’re already acting like Jim would, and before I know it, you’ll be on his side and telling him everything.”
“I would never,” he smirked.
“Bullshit,” I answered. “All right, ladies. Dinner was lovely and fun, but I’m taking off.”
“Love you,” Ash said with a laugh.
“I’ll be in touch,” Cat waved.
I chuckled to myself, thinking about how all of this just got so much better. I just had to hope Jake wasn’t going to act like his typical self and play both sides. That would be something he would do, and then in the end, it would be Jim and me both getting punked by Jake. I wasn’t about to get bamboozled whenall I was doing was ensuring my husband’s entire company felt valued by their CEO this Christmas.
THIRTEEN
Jim
I walked into the house,the buttery warmth of oven-baked goodness and the faint sound of laughter drifting from the kitchen replacing the sharp scent of fall air clinging to my coat. I was prepared to unwind from a long day buried in numbers, and the endless Christmas expenses my wife and I kept charging like rivals at war.
The lamb I’d picked up from the meat market on my way home sounded delightful, but even more enjoyable would be the time I would spend preparing and cooking it. Perhaps the dinner I had planned to cook would be enough to allow my feisty wife and me to lay down our swords for the night.
All I wanted was to enjoy a delicious dinner and end the night with a glass of wine on the pool terrace, my wife in my arms. It hadn’t even been an exceptionally long day, but betweenplanning eventsand signing off on their financials, it felt like I’d sat through a board meeting that dragged on for seven hours. This added shit-bomb of Christmas glitter was undoubtedly thelast thing I expected this year after checking the box for the charcuterie board and champagne a few weeks ago.
When I walked in, I immediately caught the aromas of baked chicken tenders and fries.
Shit, looks like it’s kids’ dinner night.
“Hey, Dad,” Izzy said when I walked into the kitchen to confirm the last thing I wanted for a home-cooked meal tonight.
“Hey, sweetheart,” I smiled at her cheerfulness. “Smells delicious.”
That wasn’t a lie. It smelled amazing. I just wasn’t in the mood for chicken nuggets and fries. I smiled at Avery, flour dusting the hem of her apron, with Izzy beside her in a matching one. Both looked far too pleased with themselves, as if the entire ambush had been staged for my arrival.
“Hey, babe,” Avery looked up, licking the special sauce she’d made for the nuggets off her finger, “what’s that?” She eyed the lamb wrapped in butcher paper that I held.
“Just a leg of lamb I picked up on the way home to make for dinner,” I smiled, walked over to where Izzy was, and kissed her on the top of the head. “I realize now I should’ve called to see if you had anything planned because it looks like my girls are way ahead of me tonight.”
“Mom said it would be nice for us to make you dinner tonight,” she smiled sweetly.
“Is that so?” I arched an eyebrow at my always calculating wife.
“How was work?” Avery said with a cheeky grin. “I hope it wasn’t stressful enough that it made you want to come home and cook something to unwind from it?”
I placed the lamb in the fridge, pulled out a beer, and eyed the mischievous look on my wife’s face. “Nah, any other day. The lamb was just something I thought of on the way home.”
“Ah,” Avery chuckled softly, knowing exactly what she was doing.
Keeping me under tension and pressure with all the holiday planning was supposed to force me to crack and make me lose this planning war. Well, that wasn’t going to happen. I mean, sure…it could. Party planning wasn’t exactly one of my many talents. I was just the guy who approved shit. But that’s why I had to be creative—and why I had the girls on my team. Their creativity would ensure this succeeded against their mother and Cat’s superpowers. My brain ran in a veryblack-and-whitemanner, so their vision and childlike sense of wonder were essential here, and it would be the key to my success.
“So, work was good, then?” Avery pressed.
“Mm hm. Just another day at the office,” I smiled, pretending as if the pile of folders from her phase one plan didn’t affect me at all—because I knew that’s what she was itching to find out right now.
“That’s great. Were you able to approve the files Cat sent over for ph?—”
“Phase one. Yes, I saw them.”
Shit, I said that too fast and too dick-ish.
Avery smiled like she had just caught me red-handed. “It wasn’t too over the top, was it? The prices and all?” she smiled wryly at me. “Or that we’ll be using Stonecrest for the international employees who are able to attend?”
