Page 81 of The Holidays with Mr. Mitchell
“I’m also a fantastic multitasker.” He fastened his watch and gave me a quick kiss. “So, gorgeous, what’s this big secret party I’m banned from?”
“I don’t know why you even care,” I said. “I’m not asking to see your venue, am I?”
“Well, considering my sorry ass has been trending on the internet this month, I’m curious if your secret party’s going to cause a repeat.”
“If you trend because of my party,” I said, sauntering toward my closet, “then it was worth it.”
“Avery Mitchell,” he called after me, “you may have seduced me three times already this morning, but I’m not letting your cute little ass leave me hanging.”
“All I’m going to say,” I said, flipping through hangers, “is if you start trending again because of this party—which, by the way, will be ten million times better than yours—don’t complain.”
“I’ve seen the plans for mine and the girls’ party,” he countered, “and I think it’s still up for debate. Renting out Paramount Studios isn’t going to help you compete with what ours looks like.”
I narrowed my eyes at his reflection. “Are we really going back down this planning-war road again?”
“We never got off it, gorgeous,” he said. “And you keeping your little party secret tells me that’s a fact.”
“You’re not seeing my London set,” I blurted before clapping a hand over my mouth and cursing myself for letting that important detail slip.
He turned at my unintentional admission, already half-dressed, smirk in place. “London set? Why, pray tell, are you taking company employees to a London set? Are we expected to be in a play or something?”
“Let’s just say it’s a fun recreation of a great Christmas tradition,” I hedged, instantly regretting it.
“Av,” he said, laughter in his voice as he disappeared into his closet, “most companies host galas, dinners, balls—stuff like that.”
“I know. That’s what makes mine awesome.”
He came out buttoning his burgundy shirt. “What are you really planning? Company morale depends on it, especially if my wife has everyone acting out Christmas roles like Jake and Collin pulled off in Switzerland last year.”
“Trust me,” I said, rolling my eyes, “morale will skyrocket, and more than it would have from those cheese boards you handed out three weeks ago.”
“That’s in the past,” he said.
“And so is the crap that Jake and Collin pulled,” I reminded him with a grin.
He finished fastening his cufflinks, leaned down, and kissed my forehead. “You’re as stubborn as the day I met you. Who’s trusting Addy to drive for drop-off this morning?”
“If you can take the girls, that would be great. Cat wants to meet early, and I promised coffee and muffins for our tour.”
“Tour?” His brows rose. “Are we dealing with actors now?”
“You’ll see. Stop prying. It’s a surprise for you and everyone else.”
“You’re adorable when you act like a devious vixen, you know that?”
“And you’re handsome when you act like the big bad CEO with the biggest heart on earth,” I said, rising on my toes to kiss him. “Thank you for letting me do this, and for not cheating and following me to the set.”
“The only one cheating right now is my wife, manipulating me with words instead of her body,” he said.
“That’s right.” I turned back to my closet. “If you can take the girls, it’ll help me.”
“Of course. No meetings till ten.” He paused. “Are you sure you don’t want breakfast here?”
“I’m sure,” I said, laughing. “I don’t need you and the girls teaming up to guilt-trip me about my party.”
Jim’s chuckle followed him out, and I couldn’t help but grin. After the banter, the teasing, and the morning we’d just had, I was fired up to see what Cat had pulled off at Paramount.
THIRTY-ONE
