Chapter 6
SIX
Jim
“Have a wonderful Thanksgiving, Mr. Mitchell,” my captain said as I turned to the steps to exit my jet.
“You do the same and extend my wishes to the rest of the crew, Leyster,” I said.
I didn’t have time for pleasantries with my crew right now. I was rushing back to beat the clock so I could make it in time to have Thanksgiving dinner with my family. The trip to Dubai took longer than planned, but shit, at least Spence and I nailed that bastard.
“Can we slow the fuck down a beat?” Spencer, my VP, said, scrambling to catch up behind me. “Jesus, Jim.”
“Evening, Mr. Mitchell,” my chauffeur acknowledged as I handed him my travel bag and slid into the backseat.
“Did Avery threaten to take off your balls with the turkey carving knife if we’re a second late to dinner?”
“No,” I smirked, texting Avery and my girls on a group chat as the Bentley pulled out of the private airport.
Jim: We’re on the ground, in the car, and on the way!
Addy: Hurry up, Dad. We can’t eat until you bozos get here.
Avery: Can’t wait. Turkey’s almost done!
Jim: Me too! How’s Izzy Bear?
Addy: Mad she doesn’t have a cell phone and can’t text.
“Remind me to get Izzy a cell phone this year for Christmas,” I told Spence with a soft chuckle.
“Breaking your no cell phones until thirteen years old rule already? You’re getting soft in your old age.”
I slid my phone into my coat pocket. “Nah, I just love hearing from the girls while I’m away on business, and unless Avery hands her phone to Izzy, then I don’t get to hear from her until I get home.”
“Quintessential old-age softness, like I said,” Spence pressed. “But the way you pulled the dick-CEO routine on the flight crew and shoved your luggage at Alastair to toss in the trunk for your entitled ass, proves you haven’t fully aged into a softie just yet.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, please. They’re all my employees, and they understand things get a little impersonal at times while working for me.
” I said it confidently, but after thinking it over, I kind of felt like shit about my behavior.
They might’ve been my employees, but they worked hard to meet my high standards, and they deserved better from me.
“Alastair, please forgive my lack of manners,” I announced from the back seat.
“I deeply appreciate your timely pickup and handling of my things.”
“Never a problem, sir,” my driver said, focused more on the traffic jam we’d just driven into on the 405 than on me being concerned about being a dickhead on Thanksgiving Day. “Apologies for the traffic,” he said, glancing in the rearview mirror, his thick accent floating over the partition.
I exhaled and looked at Spence, “I need to ensure the airline staff is compensated above and beyond for their stellar services in getting us home today, and also because they nearly missed Thanksgiving because of our overworked, sorry asses.”
“Already handled, Jimmy,” Spencer said, scrolling through emails on his phone. “I slipped the captain a healthy gratuity for him and the crew.”
I nodded. “I swear everything this year has been going non-fucking-stop,” I exhaled, reclining further into my seat. “How the hell are we even at Thanksgiving already?”
He dropped his phone into his lap and smirked at me. “Don’t tell me you want to be back at Halloween, dealing with Collin and Jake dressed up as Woody and Buzz Lightyear again?”
“Lord,” I chuckled at the memory, “those clowns have more fun on that damn holiday than the kids do.”
“Why did they dress up as Toy Story characters?”
“I stopped asking questions about those two long ago, my friend,” I said with a laugh. “Alastair, perhaps this exit will avoid the endless brake lights. Can we take side streets?”
“Apologies, sir,” Alastair’s calm voice floated back. “This is the only reasonable route to the venue.”
I scowled. “Venue? Avery said it was dinner at the house…” I looked over at Spence, “Just close friends.”
Spencer’s mouth twitched as he returned to scrolling through his phone. “Maybe she upgraded the definition of close.”
I leaned back against the leather, fingers tapping restlessly on my knee. “We’ve been gone too long, Spence. I just want a quiet night with her. With the girls. That’s all.”
“Mm,” he drawled, not even glancing up. “And you believe Avery when she says she’s planning something quiet?”
“Fair point.”
The Bentley inched forward, trapped in the sea of traffic, and my patience thinned with every yard we crawled. The glow of red lights reflected across the windshield, painting Spencer in hellfire as he chuckled under his breath.
“What the hell’s so funny?” I asked, agitated.
He finally set his phone down, grinning. “You. All buttoned-up and sweating bullets because you’re about to walk into another one of Avery’s ambushes.”
I shook my head. “She said the house. Just us at the house.”
“Jim,” Spencer’s tone softened, though his grin never left, “you sound like a crazy man who’s just lost all sense of control.”
“I feel that way,” I answered. “Thank God I slept on the flight home to have the energy for whatever charade might be awaiting us tonight.”
“Holidays already stressing you out, big guy?”
“When everything always seems grand scale? Yes. This didn’t need to be an event. God bless my wife because I know she means well and loves surprises, but damn. These days, it’s like we’re trying to fit in with Titus’s way of life.”
“Mark my words, for you shall choke on yours soon enough,” he said as if he were quoting Shakespeare.
“Do you know something I don’t know?”
“Who the fuck am I married to, dude? My wife knows everything, which means I do as well.”
“Why wouldn’t you at least make me aware?”
“Again, you know who my wife is, right? If I betray her, I don’t just lose my balls. I lose my dick, too. The whole package…gone.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but Alastair smoothly cut in. “We’re nearly there, gentlemen.”
I frowned at the freeway signs. Downtown? My pulse kicked up a notch. “Alastair,” I said slowly, “where are we going?”
“I’m under strict orders not to divulge that information, Mr. Mitchell,” Alastair shrugged and gave me a look that said, ‘I’d also prefer my balls not to be removed.’ A look I was all too familiar with tonight, it seemed. “You’ll see, sir. That’s all I can say.”
Spencer laughed outright at that. “Christ, man. Even your own staff is on lockdown with the big bad CEO.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I hope my wife has compensated you well for this, Alastair,” I grumbled, knowing the man was finding amusement in my discomfort as he always did when Avery planned these things behind my back.
I wasn’t upset. I’d just been looking forward to a quiet dinner and a bourbon.
I imagined having a cigar with my brother and friends while the kids watched movies in the theater room and the ladies went to play board games or entertain themselves with stories in the cozy living room.
All that sounded so goddamn enticing, but instead, after a long ass flight, I was in Downtown Los Angeles.
When the car finally pulled off the freeway and curved toward a grand historic building lit up against the night sky, my heart nearly stopped. Valets rushed forward, uniforms crisp, as I read a glowing banner that stretched across the entrance.
Giving Thanks Gala: In Support of Homeless Children.
I blinked, stunned, as Alastair opened my door.
I stepped out of the car, hearing music drifting out, all stringed instruments, warm and elegant.
Inside, golden light spilled from chandeliers onto rows of white-linen tables neatly set with silver glinting off the lights shining above them.
And everything was surrounded by fall florals bursting in rich warm colors.
I noted where a silent auction lined one wall beyond the dining area and photos of shelters and smiling children displayed beside sleek bidding sheets.
And at the center of it all was my stunning wife. My selfish and spoiled rotten mood ignited by traffic doused the second my eyes took in the image of her beauty.
She looked like she’d stepped out of a dream, burgundy satin flowing as she leaned down to adjust Addy’s microphone.
“Dad’s here now,” I heard the mic pick up her excited voice. “It’s go time, baby.”
I watched with pride as my oldest daughter’s eyes sparkled as she lifted her chin and spoke into the mic, steady and sure.
“This year,” Addy said, her voice carrying to every corner of the room, “I asked if we could do more on Thanksgiving than just sitting in our big house. I wanted to share with kids who don’t have a house at all.” She smiled at me, then confidently nodded toward the guests.
Applause thundered, echoing through the grand ballroom, as she finished her little speech, and my chest tightened until it hurt.
Avery’s gaze found me across the room, her smile private and knowing, like she’d been waiting just for this moment.
Spencer nudged me, his voice low with amusement. “Worth the traffic, I’ll say, eh?”
I couldn’t even answer him. All I could do was stand there, floored, staring at the two people who’d just redefined what Thanksgiving truly meant—for me, for us, and for everyone here.
For once in my life, I didn’t give a damn about traffic, deals, or deadlines because everything that mattered was standing right there in front of me.
I slowly approached the stage, meeting my wife first. “My God,” was all I could say.
“She wanted to surprise you,” Avery smiled.
“I’m beyond surprised,” I pulled Avery in closer. “You know, I really wanted to be pissed off,” I chuckled while Avery’s eyes glistened, “but our daughter just reminded me of the true definition of the holiday that I rushed home to celebrate.”
“She shocked me when she came up with the idea out of nowhere.”
“Hey, that was a great speech,” I said, seeing Addy approach. “I believe I’m looking at the next CEO of Mitchell and Associates.” I let Avery go and bent down to hug Addy.
“Thanks, Dad, but that’s not a road you’ll ever catch me going down,” she laughed. “Do you love it?”
“I love you,” I said with certainty. “What made you think of this?”
“I was just scrolling on my phone one night, and I saw a bunch of videos showing people going to homeless shelters. It just made me feel bad that I had more than they did. So, I asked Mom if we could do something on Thanksgiving that would help them have a place to go that’s as nice as what we have. ”
“A true heart of a queen,” I said, smiling and pulling Avery into my side. “Even though she has more than others, she uses her privilege to share with those less fortunate. Perhaps, royalty is in your blood,” I teased.
“I highly doubt it,” she chuckled. “But I think after tonight, we might raise enough for new shelters to be built.”
“And I will gladly match the donations raised tonight,” I confirmed, as Izzy ran up to my side, gripping me in her usual bear hug.
“Thanks, Dad,” Addy beamed, hugging her mom as if their ideas worked to kick off the holidays in the best way possible.
I turned and hugged my youngest, having missed all my girls even more than before. “And I’ll sweeten the pot, but only if my Izzy Bear shares the delicious apple pie at home that Mom made for me.” I glanced at Avery, “I’m still getting my apple pie, right?”
Avery laughed, “Of course. We couldn’t take away the only thing you love about Thanksgiving.”
“And I’m going to share with you, but only if we do the ice cream trick,” Izzy said, bouncing with the excitement that only the promise of pie and ice cream could give.
“Duh,” I said, wrapping my arm around Izzy’s shoulders as I turned my attention back to Addy. “Then I’ll be working with Titus, and he’ll also gladly match donations when we bring in Breanne to design the new shelters just like she did for Mom’s.”
“No way!” Addy practically screamed.
“Seriously? Do you think Titus will go in?” Avery asked.
I grinned. “Titus wants to keep me as a business partner, so, of course, he will. Now,” I looked at all three of my beautiful ladies, “if you’ll excuse me. I need to soften up our guests, so they’re more eager and delighted to donate generously on this lovely day of giving.”
“Now you’re being corny,” Addy said, “but I still love you.”
“You better,” I said. I leaned into Avery and discreetly kissed the side of her neck, “I’ll make up for my absence here tonight, lover.”
Avery’s cheeks flushed the perfect tint of pink, and I knew our time together later would complement what I’d witnessed here tonight—my fifteen-year-old daughter caring more about those less fortunate and using the position she’d been blessed with to help give them something close to what she has.
It was a relief to know that, despite working so hard and often, Avery and I were somehow making a lasting, positive impact on our children.
They both had beautiful hearts and souls, and though they were surrounded by luxuries few would ever be lucky enough to experience, they were growing up to be grateful, humble, and charitable.
I couldn’t possibly have been any prouder.