Scrooged by Vi Keeland
Chet
Two Weeks Later
Under the glow of dimmed red and green lighting, I stood like a fish out of water in a sea of people—who all looked ridiculous. I’d wanted nothing to do with this holiday party, but one of my biggest clients invited me, so I’d felt obligated to show up. My plan was to show face for an hour, then leave.
It wasn’t so much the party I had a problem with. It was the fact that it was Christmas costume-themed, which wasn’t really my jam. Who the hell has a costume party in December anyway? I had to get something at the last minute and was none too happy with what I ended up with. Apparently, there were only two costumes in the store big enough for me, and because I’d put it off until the absolute last minute, there had been no time to go anywhere else.
After downing the second Jingle Juice Spiked Punch, my night was starting to seem more promising, though.
That was…until I spotted her.
And it was clear she had noticed me sometime before, because her stare was already burning into mine.
What the hell is she doing here?
Margo.
Margaret Adams.
My client, Rex Adams’ soon-to-be ex-wife.
She looked gorgeous as ever. Her long, blonde hair was ombre, darkest at the roots and platinum at the tips. She wore a sexy, long-sleeve red dress with a hint of sparkle, the neckline cut down to her navel. Christ. She had on matching high heels, looking every bit like the woman I’d fantasized about for days on end—before I realized who she was.
How the hell did she get out of wearing a costume? Now I wished I hadn’t been so stupid to assume coming meant I absolutely had to wear one. Margo looked like a normal human, whereby I was standing here trying to save the last of my dignity while dressed as Buddy the Elf.
I wasn’t supposed to have to see her again until our next court date. I still couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that Margo from the café—was Margaret Adams.
I glanced over at the door. It was too late to slip out of here because she’d already spotted my ass. The next thing I knew, she was right in front of me.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Buddy the Kissing Bandit…Chester Saint. Hardly a saint if you ask me. More like the devil. What are you doing here?”
“This is my client’s holiday party. I was invited. Although, a costume-themed Christmas party is a pretty awful idea.”
“Thanks. It was my idea. I planned this party.”
Shit. I’d forgotten she was an event planner. That explained what she was doing here and why she wasn’t dressed like a fool.
She glared at me. “And Carl Rhodes is your client? He’s my client, too. Does he realize how crooked you are? That you have no heart?”
I gripped my glass tighter. “Excuse me?”
“Going after my grandmother’s money? An eighty-year-old woman’s life savings that she uses to pay for her healthcare. You should be ashamed of yourself. If you’re such a good detective, how about making yourself useful and going after the money Rex stole from me. I was an idiot to believe the balance of my stocks took such a nose dive last year.”
“This is neither the time nor the place to be discussing the case. I don’t make a habit of discussing legal matters dressed as Buddy the Elf.”
“Really? I think the idiocy suits you well. And it figures Rex would find a lawyer who’s as dirty as he is.”
Before responding, I downed the rest of my drink, wishing it had quadruple the amount of alcohol. I needed something a fuck of a lot stronger than this spiked jingle juice right about now.
She’d called me crooked? I’d only been doing my job in uncovering those funds connected to her grandmother. I’d never lost a case and didn’t intend for this to be the first one. But that didn’t mean my clients were always in the right. Rex Adams was not a good person. I’d always known that to be true. And deep down, I’d actually felt bad for his ex—before I actually met her.
But now? I didn’t feel bad for her at all. Her calling me crooked was real ironic, considering she was the crooked one.
She went on, “Nice of you tell me that day in the café that you represented my husband, by the way.”
“You can’t be serious. You think I knew who you were that day?”
She placed her hands on her hips. “How could you not have?”
“You told me your name was Margo. I knew Rex’s wife as Margaret. It never occurred to me that you were the same person.”
“Margo is my nickname. And I was there with my attorney after your client stood me up. What were you even doing there since Rex cancelled our meeting?”
“I was there for the same meeting you were. He called me only a few minutes before you walked over and told me you cancelled at the last minute.”
“Well, that sounds just like Rex.” She leaned forward and squinted at me. “He’s a damn liar. I would never have cancelled. I can’t wait to have this divorce finalized.”
“Your attorney was also supposed to be a man, according to the documentation I’d had. How would I have known your friend—who sent you on some immature high school dare—was your goddamn lawyer?”
“It was a last-minute change,” she muttered.
Shaking my head in disbelief, I said, “Look, I had no clue it was you. I would’ve never touched you if I’d known.”
“So, if you didn’t know it was me, then you just get your kicks leading women on?”
What is this woman smoking?
“Leading you on? You approached me.”
Her tone was filled with emotion. “You never called.”
What?
I leaned in. “Kind of hard to call someone who gives you a fake phone number.”
Her eyes widened. “What are you talking about?”
“I did try to call you—that night. I got some man named Mauricio. He wasn’t thrilled when I rang him a second time ten seconds later, either. He confirmed that the number I had was his—not yours.”
Margo’s eyeballs moved frantically from side to side. “Could I have entered it wrong? Do you still have it…my number in your phone?”
I took my phone out of my pocket and pulled up Margo’s name. Not even sure why I hadn’t deleted the contact. I turned the screen toward her. She examined the number and frowned, looking genuinely upset.
She cleared her throat. “I typed 4229 when it should have been 4299. I never meant to give you the wrong number.”
Well, that’s an unexpected plot twist in this fucked-up story.
Softening my stance, I said, “I assumed you were playing some kind of game, one where you go about the city kissing random men and giving them the wrong number for your own enjoyment.”
Margo looked deeply into my eyes and said, “I would never do that to someone. What reason would I have had to give you a fake number anyway? That kiss was amazing.” Her mouth dropped after that admission, as if her own words had stunned her, like she hadn’t expected to be so candid.
I wanted to tell her that I’d done nothing that entire day but think about the way her lips felt on mine, the way her mouth tasted. I dreamt of juniper for days. I hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything but her for the longest time. That day, I’d wanted to wait at least twenty-four hours to call her, but ended up biting the bullet and dialing that night, hoping to convince her to meet me. I would’ve gone anywhere she asked to just to see her again.
But now that I knew who she was, how could I admit all that? Even talking to her right now was a huge conflict of interest.
“I guess we both got caught up in a big misunderstanding,” I finally said.
Her eyes glistened. “So, you did try to call me?”
“Yes…” I nodded. “I did.”
Margo blinked several times and stared off before looking back up at me. If this situation were different, the realization of this misunderstanding would have been a good thing. But now? Where do we even go from here? We’re already at a dead end.
My eyes wandered down to the exposed skin of her plunging neckline, the trail of cleavage that led to the taut, exposed skin below it. I suddenly felt like I had to adjust myself through my yellow spandex. Yeah, this was not a good moment to get excited, not only because my dick was basically in a sock, but because Margo Adams was officially the last woman on Earth I was allowed to feel this way about.
“Look, I don’t have anything against you, Margaret. I’m just doing my job in representing Rex.”
She blew out a breath. “I understand that. And I’m sure Rex is feeding you lies. He’s a liar, Chet.” Her voice shook. “He cheated on me. I never did anything to deserve it. All I want is a clean break from that mistake of a marriage, and he’s making it so hard for me to just live my life. I won’t settle for anything less than a good man whom I can trust.”
“You shouldn’t have to, Margo,” I said without hesitation.
Rex needed his head examined for ever cheating on this woman.
And why had I started calling her Margo again? Margo was the woman I’d kissed in the café. The woman in front of me is Margaret. My client’s wife—who’s completely off-limits. That’s what I was supposed to believe. But as I continued to look down at her, all I could see was a sweet, beautiful, honest person standing in front of me. And all I wanted to do was something I knew I never could—kiss her again.
“Can I ask you a personal question?” she asked.
“Is it about the case? Honestly, there are rules about talking to a client who is represented. I shouldn’t be discussing anything without your attorney present.”
She shook her head. “It’s not about the case, no. Just a general question.”
Technically I just couldn’t discuss her case, but really I shouldn’t be having a conversation with her at all. My client would blow a gasket if he knew I was making small talk with his ex-wife. No less wanting to lean in and take a giant whiff of her hair.
Shit.Where had that come from? I seriously had the strongest urge to smell her goddamn hair. I needed to end this conversation once and for all. And that’s exactly what I’d planned on doing, except the words that came out of my mouth were:
“Sure. What’s your question?”
“How do you represent assholes?”
I stifled a laugh. It was about her case, considering Rex seemed like a giant one. Nevertheless, I cleared my throat and gave her the textbook answer. “The United State Constitution affords each and every citizen the right to due process—which means having competent legal counsel. If all attorneys only defended the innocent, or the non-assholes as you say, our legal system would collapse.”
Margo studied me for a moment. She rubbed her chin. “So, you represent assholes because our founding fathers created a system of checks and balances, then?”
I gave a curt nod. “Exactly.”
“You want to know what I think?”
Uh. From her tone I wasn’t sure I wanted to… Yet, once again, I found myself speaking out of turn.
“Sure.”
She stepped closer to me and pushed up on her tippy toes so we were almost nose-to-nose. “I think you’re full of shit.”
We stared off at each other for a solid thirty seconds, then I couldn’t help myself. Unable to keep it in any longer, I cracked. A smile broke out on my face. Then one spread across hers. Next thing I knew, we were both hysterically laughing. Margo held onto her stomach and, at one point, she snorted, which threw us into another round of hysterics.
She wiped tears from her eyes. “Seriously…how do you do it? And don’t give me some bullshit answer this time.”
I shrugged. “Haven’t you ever had a client you didn’t care for?”
“Sure. But that’s different. I’m only throwing an asshole’s parties or planning some elaborate proposal to make them look good. Not beating up my client’s adversary who doesn’t deserve it.”
She had a point. And the truth of the matter was, I was tired of taking on clients with no morals. It was one of the reasons I’d been kicking around leaving my firm and going out on my own. Sometimes you meet with a prospective client and you agree to take on a case, thinking you’re representing the kid getting bullied. But after you listen to the other side of the story, you wonder if your client might actually be the bully. Those situations, you can’t help. But that wasn’t what had happened when I met with Rex. My gut had told me he wasn’t the victim in the first thirty seconds of sitting down with him. Though it didn’t matter, because I was trained to see all clients the same way at my firm—as billable hours.
I sighed. “It’s not always the easiest job.”
Margo tilted her head and studied me. “Such a shame,” she said with a sigh.
“What? That I’m a lawyer?”
“Nope. That you’re Rex’s lawyer.”
“Why is that?”
She looked down at her watch and back up to me biting her bottom lip. “Because I’m almost done for the night. And you’re standing right under one of the mistletoe I hung this morning.”
I looked up. Holy shit. I really was. There was nothing more I wanted to do at this moment than take Margo in my arms and kiss the shit out of her. That first kiss had stuck with me for days. But…I couldn’t. I was just about to begrudgingly tell her that, when she suddenly turned and started to walk away.
What the…
Margo looked back over her shoulder and flashed the wickedest grin. “Bye-Bye, Mr. Lawyerman. Feel free to watch me walk away now. Unless, of course, that’s against the rules, too.”
I watched as Margo Adams strutted across the room. Her red dress hugged the curve of her amazing ass as it sashayed from side to side. Honestly, it probably was unethical to drool while checking out your client’s adversary, but at this point—I was lucky that was all I allowed myself.
Putting my hands on Margo Adams would totally be a breach of ethics.
Yet in the pit of my stomach, I somehow knew she’d totally be worth it.
