Scrooged

by Keeland, Vi

  “Don’t have all day. I’m already going to hear the judge lay into me for being late. Tear it up, sweetheart. It’s like ripping a Band-Aid off of an old wound, just let it rip.”

  Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and tore the photo in two.

  “That a girl. Keep going.”

  I smiled and ripped a second time. Then a third. It felt so good that I tore the damn thing up into tiny little pieces. When I was done, I dumped the shreds into the garbage can and looked up at Adam with an ear-to-ear smile on my face.

  He smiled back. “You should do that more often.”

  “Rip up photos?”

  Adam’s eyes dropped to my lips. “No. Smile. You have a great smile.”

  My belly did a little somersault. “Oh. Thanks.”

  He cleared his throat and broke our gaze. “Come on, we better get going.”

  Outside, the snow was falling even heavier now. Adam grabbed my arm and we made a run for it, jumping back into our waiting Uber.

  Once we were settled into the back seat, I said, “Thank you for that. I actually feel pretty good now. Which is a feat considering I’m heading to my imminent doom.”

  Adam unbuttoned the top of his coat. “What’s the deal on your eviction anyway? You don’t seem like the type to not pay your rent.”

  “I’m not. I paid my rent every month—early. But I don’t really have the right to live there. The apartment I live in was my grandmother’s. I moved in two years ago when she got sick so I could take care of her. It’s rent-controlled. She died nine months ago. I love it there, so I stayed. I could never afford a one bedroom in my neighborhood. But the landlord recently found out and is having me evicted. He’s also suing me for the market value of rent back to the date that my grandmother died since I didn’t have a right to be there. He wants thirty-six-thousand-four-hundred-and-twelve dollars from me.”

  Adam looked at me for a long moment. “Thirty-six-thousand-four-hundred-and-twelve dollars, huh?” He scratched his chin. “Did you say you moved in two years ago and she died nine months ago?”

  “Yeah. Well, I was rounding. Maybe I’ve lived there a few months less than two years. Why?”

  “Did your attorney tell you about succession rights?”

  “I don’t have an attorney. I’m too broke. What are succession rights?”

  “If you’re related to a senior tenant and live with them for more than a year before they die, you can’t be evicted and get to keep the rent control.”

  My eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

  “Were you there a full year before she died?”

  “I’m not sure! I moved in during the winter, and she died the following winter, but I don’t remember the exact date I moved in.”

  “You’d need to prove it in court today at your eviction hearing.”

  My shoulders slumped. “How would I do that if I don’t even know the date I moved?”

  “You could try to estimate and let them know you need a little more time to gather the supporting documentation since you just became aware of your succession rights. Think about something you can use to back up the date, like moving expense receipts…anything. Depending on the judge, you might get a reprieve until after the holidays. They’ll set another date, and you’ll just have to prove the timeline.”

  Hope filled me, although I wasn’t confident I had anything to show when I moved in.

  “And if I can’t prove it?” I asked.

  “Don’t worry about that. Deal with it when it comes.”

  “I already postponed once because I was sick. I don’t think they’re going to give me more time, no matter what I tell them.”

  “Maybe they’ll want to go home early for Christmas, and you’ll get lucky.”

  “Lucky, huh?” I teased. “I thought you said luck didn’t exist?”

  “Alright…you got me. Poor choice of words on my part. In this case you’d be presenting new information that would result in a possible extension. So, I still stand by what I said earlier. We create our own fate.”

  “Well, I maintain that my luck sucks lately, and I don’t think that will change in court today. I’m not expecting a Christmas miracle.”

  “How you present yourself is everything, Meredith. If I’ve learned anything as an attorney, it’s that. Now that you know what you may be entitled to, that throws a monkey wrench into the whole situation. If you make them believe you’re confident in your estimation of when you moved in, I’d be willing to bet things will go in your favor.”

  His attitude was definitely motivating.

  I tilted my head. “You really do believe that people can take their fate into their own hands, don’t you?”

  “A hundred percent. Mind over matter.”

  I paused, debating whether to ask my next question. “What can I do for you?”

  He squinted. “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve done some good things for me in such a short amount of time…helped me rip up that photo once and for all and made me aware of this loophole that could possibly save my behind. I owe you. Seriously…what can I do for you, Adam?”

  He blinked a few times and didn’t answer. I was starting to think that maybe that question sounded suggestive. Then something a little more PG than where my mind was going occurred to me.

  I snapped my fingers. “Wait! I’ve got it.”

  He lifted his brow. “This doesn’t involve you grabbing my crotch again, does it?”

  See? He had taken my question the wrong way.

  “No, wiseass.”

  He winked. “What is it?”

  “You said your mother is always on your back about not having a girlfriend. Why don’t you pretend you’re dating me?”

  “You gonna come home with me or something?” He chuckled. “I think I saw a movie like that once. A date dragged me to it.”

  “No. I won’t be coming to Ohio. But we can take some photos and make it look like we’re in a relationship.”

  He was amused. “You’re suggesting that I do what you did with that photo of Tucker? Lie about being in a relationship?”

  “Well, in this case, it would be harmless. You wouldn’t be hanging onto an unhealthy memory…just fabricating a story to get your mom off your back for a bit. You could even say it’s new, that we’re just casually hanging out.”

  “You’re asking me to lie to my mother…”

  “Well…yeah, bu—”

  “That’s brilliant, actually.” He scratched his scruff.

  Relieved that he liked my idea, I grinned. “Yeah?”

  “Yep. I may not even use it, but what the heck…I’ll keep a photo on hand for an emergency if the nagging gets to be too much.”

  “Perfect!” I beamed. “Okay, grab your phone.”

  “Are you good at selfies?” he asked.

  “Oh, yeah. I’m the selfie queen.”

  Over the next several minutes, I snapped a ton of photos of us together. The driver was looking at us through the rearview mirror like we were nuts.

  I leaned my head into Adam’s and smiled wide. In some of the shots, we stuck out our tongues, acted goofy. We truly looked like a happy couple who had been together for a while.

  Adam smelled so incredibly good. He was wearing some kind of masculine musk that made my hormones rejoice. Joy to the World! I found myself not wanting to stop posing for photos just so I would have an excuse to smell him, be close to him.

  At one point, he wrapped his arm around me, and chills ran down my spine as I felt the side of his hard body against mine.

  God, Meredith. That’s pathetic that you’re resorting to cheap thrills now.

  Clearing my throat, I reluctantly pulled away. “I think we have enough.”

  “You sure?” His eyes lingered on mine. Time seemed to stand still, and I got the sense that maybe he’d been enjoying the contact as much as I’d been. Or perhaps that was wishful thinking.

  For a moment I became mesmerized by the reflection of the streetlight
s in his glasses as he continued to stare at me. Maybe I wasn’t imagining the attraction. He had called me beautiful, complimented my smile. I’d assumed he was just pulling my chain, but maybe there was something there.

  Anxiety started to build within me. This ride would be over soon. We’d be going our separate ways.

  Would I ever see him again?

  I realized I was still holding his phone. “I’m just going to send myself a few of the photos,” I said.

  “Alright,” he said as he watched me program my number into his contacts. I messaged myself the entire set of pictures we had taken. I suppose that was a great excuse to make sure I left him with my number.

  After handing him back his phone, I asked, “Do you mind if I post one of these to Instagram?”

  He hesitated, then said, “Go for it.”

  “I won’t tag you or anything. Not that I even know your last name.”

  “Bullock.”

  Bullock.

  Adam Bullock.

  Meredith Bullock.

  Adam and Meredith Bullock.

  Mr. and Mrs. Adam Bullock.

  The Bullocks.

  I laughed inwardly at my ridiculous thoughts, as I stared down at our photo. “Do you want me to tag you?”

  He shook his head. “I’m not on Instagram.”

  “Are you too cool for social media?” I teased.

  “I went on there to see what the hype was all about once and accidentally liked someone’s photo from five years ago. Figured that made me look like a creep, so I vowed never to go on there again.”

  I was cracking up. “I hate when that happens.”

  After uploading my favorite photo of us—one where his arm was around me, I applied the Gingham filter and the hashtags: #AnUberChristmas #NewFriend #DontKnowHimFromAdam #ClarkKent

  “Let me see,” he said, taking the phone from me. He stared at the photo and rolled his eyes. “Clark Kent, huh?”

  “You remind me of him…in a good way.”

  “My muscles?”

  I giggled. “Your glasses. But now that you mention it…your muscles, too.” I felt my cheeks heat up after offering him that compliment.

  Adam began to scroll through my other photos, most of which were of food. “Now, I see where most of your money goes. You’re a foodie.”

  “Yes. I love taking elaborate photos of my meals in various lighting.”

  “You’re very artistic.”

  I couldn’t tell if he was bullshitting me. “Thank you.”

  When he handed me back my phone, his hand landed on mine for a few seconds.

  As much as I’d hoped to see him again, I honestly couldn’t fully read him. He’d alluded to the fact that he chose to remain single after losing his girlfriend to cancer in his twenties. Did that mean he wanted to be single forever?

  How old is he anyway?

  “How old are you?”

  “Thirty-one,” he answered. “You?”

  “Twenty-eight.” I smiled. “’Bout time I got my shit together, right?”

  “Nah. You’re good. You don’t need to do anything differently.”

  I shrugged. “I would hardly say that.”

  “You’re a bright, attractive woman who stopped her life to take care of her sick grandmother. You’re just getting back on your feet between that and your douchnozzle ex throwing you that curveball.”

  Once again, his words had soothed my soul somehow. Maybe I needed to take a bit of Adam’s advice, take my fate into my own hands. I got the sudden urge to ask him if he’d want to hang out sometime in the New Year. Maybe he was the type of guy who needed a clear signal, especially if he was closed off when it came to women.

  My heart started to beat faster as I readied to pose my bold question.

  Before the words had a chance to escape my mouth, the car skidded on some ice, sending us into a snow bank.

  This time, Adam had come crashing into my direction. I felt his large hand on my knee.

  “Are you okay?” he asked before promptly removing it.

  No, put it back.

  “Yeah,” I said as my heart pounded from the adrenaline rush.

  The car wasn’t moving. The tires were rolling but we weren’t getting any traction. We were now stuck in the snow.

  Crap! I was going to be late for my hearing.

  The driver finally said, “You guys better go. I think I’m gonna be here for a while. The courthouse is only a couple of blocks that way. You can walk.”

  I looked at the time on my phone and turned to Adam. “I’m actually running late. I have to go.” I waited a bit for him to say something, to give him a chance to make a move, but he just looked at me.

  After I reluctantly exited the car, I realized he was getting out, too, and coming around to where I was standing on the sidewalk.

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  I perked up. “You’re coming with me?”

  “Yeah. I’m going to the courthouse, too. That was always the plan.”

  I hadn’t realized that, even though it made sense, given that he was an attorney.

  “Oh, for some reason, I didn’t think we were going to the same exact place.”

  As we trudged through the snow together, I no longer felt brave enough to ask him out. That car mishap had apparently knocked the courage right out of me, or maybe knocked some sense into me.

  When we arrived at the entrance, I had to wait in a long line, while Adam could breeze right through the attorney only door. I held out a last bit of hope that maybe he’d ask to see me again, but was disappointed when he merely gave me a wave.

  “Good luck today, Meredith. Whatever you do, just be extra nice to the plaintiff’s attorney, and I’m sure you’ll get what you need.”

  I half-heartedly smiled. “Thanks. It was nice meeting you, Clark Kent.”

  He walked through the metal detectors and yelled back to me in line. “You, too, beautiful.”

  “All rise. The Civil Court of the City of New York is now in session, the Honorable Daniel Ebenezer presiding. Everyone please remain standing until the judge has entered and is seated.”

  Daniel Ebenezer? Really? I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried. I was about to be tossed out on my ass by Scrooge on Christmas Eve? I started to laugh because it was so absurd. The bailiff shot me a warning glare, so I managed to turn my laughter into a cough until I settled down.

  A judge in a black robe took his seat and everyone in the courtroom followed his lead. He put on reading glasses and buried his nose in some papers, then looked over at the bailiff. “Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s get started. Call the first damn case.”

  Great. Just great. He really was Scrooge.

  The bailiff cleared his throat. “Schmidt Real Estate Holdings vs. Eden. Docket number 1468944R.”

  Wow. I’m first.

  Nerves hit me full force as I stood and approached the little gate that separated the players from the audience. The bailiff nodded for me to enter and pointed to the right side of the courtroom where there was a lonely looking empty table.

  A minute later, the squeaky little gate opened and closed again, and a suit walked over to the table on the other side of the court. I was so nervous that I hadn’t even looked over to check out my adversary…until I heard his voice.

  “Your honor. Adam Bullock representing Schmidt Real Estate Holdings. We’ve been in discussions with the plaintiff and request an adjournment.”

  My head whipped to Adam. Adam was my nemesis? And what was he doing requesting an adjournment?

  The judge inched his glasses down his nose and spoke over them. “This case has already been adjourned once, Counselor. My docket is not your playground. Why can’t this be heard or settled today?”

  Adam looked over at me. “Your honor, Miss Eden has provided some evidence that she may be entitled to succession rights. We’d like a little time to authenticate that evidence.”

  The judge glanced over at me. “I take it you’re fine with this adjourn
ment, Miss Eden?”

  I was so stunned that I could barely speak. “Umm. Yes. Yes, Your Honor. Yes, I am. That would be great.”

  The judge scribbled something down and spoke without looking up. “Re-calendared for Tuesday, February 14th, and I expect this to be worked out on that date.” He banged his gavel, and I stood there in shock.

  I’m not evicted?

  It’s over?

  Oh my God.

  My mouth hung open. I continued to stand there and just stare into space.

  Adam walked over and extended a paper my way. His voice was all business. “You’ll need to fill this out, Miss Eden.”

  I didn’t know what to say, so I just took the paper from his hand. “Oh. Okay. Thank you.”

  Adam lifted his chin to the bailiff, and, without another glance my way, he was gone. By the time I finally lifted my jaw off the floor, he was already walking through the courtroom door into the lobby.

  I picked up my purse and shook my head in disbelief. Outside of the courtroom, I looked around. Adam was nowhere in sight. This was the craziest day ever. I waited a few minutes to see if he’d come back to talk to me, but he didn’t. So, eventually I headed to the ladies’ room, and figured I’d call an Uber once I was done.

  But when I went into the bathroom, I started to fold up the paper in my hand—the paper I’d completely forgotten that Adam had handed me—and noticed that there was something written in pen on it.

  Meet me outside. I’ll get the Uber.

  My heart started to pound. Oh my God. Forgetting I needed to pee, I took off for the front door of the courthouse. Through the whiteout conditions of the snow, I saw Adam getting into a Town Car. I didn’t bother to waste time with my jacket or hood; I just made a run for it—slipping and sliding all the way, barely avoiding falling twice to get to the curb.

  Adam opened the car door with a giant smile and laughed. “Get in here. You’re going to break something.”

  I was out of breath and on a high when I slammed the car door shut. “I can’t believe it was you!”

  “Guess there is a such thing as luck after all.”

  “I…I have no idea how to thank you.”