Read Twist of Fate (A Holiday Romance Novella) Online
Authors: Rachael Anderson
Tags: #Nightmare, #romantic comedy, #holiday romance, #clean romance, #sweet romance, #love, #inspirational romance, #humourous romance
Twist of Fate (A Holiday Romance Novella)
Copyright 2014 Rachael Anderson
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form whatsoever, whether by graphic, visual, electronic, film, microfilm, tape recording, or any other means, without prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief passages embodied in critical reviews and articles.
This is a work of fiction. The characters, names, incidents, places, and dialogue are products of the author’s imagination, and are not to be construed as real. The opinions and views expressed herein belong solely to the author and do not necessarily represent the opinions or views of HEA Publishing. Permission for the use of sources, graphics, and photos is also solely the responsibility of the author.
Published by HEA Publishing
To Linda and Jeri.
Two of the most amazing women I know.
Other books by Rachael Anderson
Novels
Prejudice Meets Pride
Working it Out
The Reluctant Bachelorette
Divinely Designed
Luck of the Draw
Minor Adjustments
Novellas
Righting a Wrong
(A
Ripple Effect Romance
Novella)
The Meltdown Match
(
The Timeless Romance Anthology: Summer Wedding Collection
)
TWO BOOTED FEET rested on the top stair
as Ty McKenzie walked into the Lakeland Hills apartment complex. He followed the boots up to slim, denim-clad legs. Two hands rested on top of the woman’s knees, clutching an opened letter that blocked her face.
“Your mom wants to come for a visit.” The letter moved down, revealing Kenzie Tyler’s face. Long, curly auburn hair fell to her shoulders, with a ringlet dangling near one of her blue eyes.
Ty raised an eyebrow and lifted a key to his mailbox. “How many times do I have to tell you that opening other people’s mail is a crime? Just because it shows up in your box doesn’t mean it’s yours.” Not that Kenzie would care. When it came to letters from his mom, she had absolutely no respect for privacy laws.
“Switch the names around, change 2 to 1 on the apartment number, and it could easily be mine,” Kenzie argued.
Ty rolled his eyes at her overused excuse. Still, what were the odds that two people with the same name—only flip-flopped—would wind up in the same apartment complex? Not too great. And yet somehow he’d moved into the apartment directly below Kenzie Tyler. At first he thought it was fate. Mixed up mail. A gorgeous girl. Right age.
Then he saw the ring on her finger and fate quickly became bad luck.
Kenzie leaned forward and dropped her voice. “Hey, do you think our postman is dyslexic?”
“No,” said Ty. “I think he’s in a hurry to get his job done and move on to something more interesting than sorting or delivering mail.” He lifted out his small stack of envelopes and flipped through them. Three were junk mail, addressed to Tyler McKenzie of APT. 102, and one was an airmail letter for Mackenzie Tyler of APT. 201, postmarked from Madagascar. Ty felt the urge to toss it in the trash along with the rest of his junk mail.
Instead, he mustered an impassive expression and waved it at her. “Oh look, it’s a letter from your do-gooder boyfriend.”
“He’s my fiancé, not boyfriend, and his name is Brad. How many times do we have to go through this?” Kenzie jumped up from her place on the landing and trotted down the stairs. She made a grab for the letter, but Ty held it just out of reach. “Oh, c’mon,” she said. “The mail system there is so messed up, and I haven’t heard from him in two months.”
Ty shrugged. “I think it’s only fair that I get to read your mail first since you read mine first.“
“Please. As if you’d ever read yours.” She held out her hand. “Now hand it over.”
“Not unless you promise to stop reading my mail.”
Kenzie’s face drew into a slight pout that made her lips look way too kissable. More than ever, Ty wanted to dispose of the letter from the other guy who she
had
kissed.
“You know I can’t promise that,” she said. “Your mom took a lot of time to write each of those letters, and they deserve to be read by
someone
.”
“Don’t you think I should be the one to decide that?” Ty raised an eyebrow and waved the letter again. “You’re not getting this until you promise.”
Kenzie eyed the letter, and then jumped up and tried snatch it away, but Ty lifted it higher. “Do. You. Promise?” he repeated.
Her “I’m thinking” face appeared, which was soon replaced by a look of satisfaction. “How about a compromise? I promise to never read your mom’s letters again if you promise to write her back. She even has an email address now, which will make it easy.”
“I don’t think so.”
“C’mon, Ty. This is your mother we’re talking about. I don’t care how weird you think she is, you only have one and you should accept her no matter what.”
Easy for her to say. Kenzie didn’t know his mother. If she did, she’d be singing a different tune. “I do accept her as my mom,” said Ty. “Mostly because it’s something I can’t change. What I don’t accept is her involvement in my life. I moved here to get away from her, and I’ve never been happier. Believe me when I say that if you really knew my mother, you’d start pitching her letters too.”
“I doubt it.” Kenzie pointed to the pages of his mom’s letter. “She sounds wonderful.”
“Then
you
write her back.” Ty had grown more than sick of this conversation. He’d lived in Rochester for nearly a year now, and it had been six months since his mom had started writing on a weekly basis. Every time one of those letters happened to land in Kenzie’s box, Ty got an earful. Families are important. You’ve got to treasure what you’ve got. Forgive and forget. Or the one that made Ty laugh out loud: Maybe she’s changed.
Right. As if that would ever happen.
What Kenzie needed to understand was that not everyone had the sort of healthy relationship that she had with her family. Call it life, the luck of the draw, or whatever, but the fact remained that Ty would never have any sort of decent relationship with his mother.
“Maybe I
will
write her back since you’re too stubborn,” Kenzie said, thrusting the letter into his free hand. “Now can I please have mine?”
Ty tossed his mother’s letter into a nearby trashcan, making Kenzie frown, and shook his head. “Not until you promise.”
Kenzie stomped a booted foot. “All right, fine. I promise to not read her letters anymore. Satisfied?”
Ty gave a half smile and finally did as she asked. “There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Ignoring him, Kenzie practically ripped open the letter and devoured the words. Ty felt a prick of jealousy before shoving it back. Like it or not, in less than two months, Kenzie would be marrying her childhood friend and sweetheart, Brad Jacobs, and there was nothing he could do about it.
“He bought his plane ticket!” Kenzie squealed, holding out the letter for Ty to see. “He’ll be here the day after Christmas, an entire month before the wedding! I can’t believe it, I’m so excited! It’s really going to happen.”
Ty took the letter and pretended to glance through it, but really all he read was the date scribbled across the top. September 23rd. Wow. The mail system there really was messed up if it had taken over two months to arrive. Especially since his last letter had only taken a month. With no cell or internet service in Madagascar, Kenzie and Brad’s relationship gave “long distance” a whole new meaning.
But the wedding was now officially on. Brad would be returning in only 24 more days, which meant Ty could no longer hope that her fiancé would decide to stay in Madagascar permanently.
“That’s great,” Ty lied, handing the letter back to her. “Now you won’t have to postpone the wedding like you were worried about.”
“I know,” she said. “Which means my mom and I can actually start planning. I’ve been holding off until I was sure he’d make it.”
Ty couldn’t help but feel that if he were the one engaged to Kenzie, she wouldn’t have to worry that he wouldn’t make it back in time for the wedding. He’d swim if he had to.
Ty handed the letter back to her. “I’ll leave you to it then. Enjoy the rest of your night, Kenz.”
“You too.”
He moved past her toward his apartment, but her hand on his arm stopped his progress. Even through his heavy coat, her touch still felt good.
“Wait, you’re still planning on coming to my class tomorrow, right?”
As if Ty could ever forget. “Yeah. I’ll be there.”
“STEVEN,” KENZIE HISSED at a boy near the back of her classroom, wiggling her fingers to remind him of the five classroom rules. He settled down for a moment but soon started squirming in his chair and leaning toward his friend once again. Kenzie sighed, ready to give up trying to keep her students in line. She couldn’t blame them for getting antsy—not when she felt like opening the novel resting in her top drawer.
Ty had brought no props, no posters, and no samples. Honestly, how could a guy who created computer games for kids have nothing to say that would interest eight-year-olds?
“There are several ways software can be marketed,” said Ty, “and our company has pretty much tried them all. There’s nagware, crippleware, adware…”