Twist of Fate (A Holiday Romance Novella) (3 page)

Christmas was Kenzie’s favorite time of year. She didn’t deserve to have the holiday ruined the same way it had been ruined for Ty. She deserved to be happy. To take in the glow of Christmas lights, decorate gingerbread houses, and get wrapped up in the sounds, sights, and smells she loved so much. Christmas suited her. Happiness suited her.

Ty stared at the writing across the back of the postcard again. Only words, made up of simple alphabet letters, and yet they had the power to snatch away happiness, create bitterness, ruin holidays, and make Kenzie join the ranks of Grinches—like Ty.

Unless… she never got the postcard.

Ty turned it over slowly, thinking. It could work. With Kenzie’s wedding still two months away, once Christmas passed, she’d still have plenty of time to cancel whatever plans she made. Yes, she’d eventually find out, and yes, she’d still have to deal with it when it happened, but maybe Ty could do something about that as well.

Now he could finally make a move—one free from guilt and potential bad karma. And if Ty somehow succeeded in winning her over, then maybe Kenzie wouldn’t cry when she found out about Brad. Maybe she wouldn’t even care.

This was starting to seem like a no-brainer.

His father’s voice echoed in the back of his mind, quoting Mark Twain: “When in doubt, tell the truth.”

But what if the truth did more harm than good?

Ty bit down on his lower lip and glanced at the postcard again, almost wishing it had wound up in the right box so he wouldn’t be faced with this decision.

Then another thought occurred to him. What if he told Kenzie now, provided her with a shoulder to cry on and some time to heal, and then somehow managed to convince her to date him? Would that make him the rebound guy? Would he always worry she’d settled for him because she couldn’t have her first choice?

Maybe.

Probably.

Not good.

Decision made, Ty shoved the postcard in his back pocket. He had exactly twenty days until Brad’s supposed arrival date, which meant he had twenty days to convince Kenzie that he was a better fit than a childhood sweetheart who’d spent a year of his life serving the people of Madagascar.

Not the best odds, but it could be done.

Ty had to be subtle. Kenzie would never agree to date him outright—not while she still had Brad’s ring on her finger. He needed to draw her in slowly, carefully—sort of like that metaphor about frogs and boiling water. If he made it too obvious or the water too hot, she’d jump right out. But if he heated it slowly and disguised his actions as something else, she wouldn’t know what hit her until it was too late.

Okay, so maybe not the best metaphor, but the principle was solid.

Ty’s gaze flickered to the unopened Christmas party invitation in the trashcan and inspiration struck. In a fluid movement, he fished it out, shoved it in Kenzie’s box, and headed for his apartment with the postcard firmly tucked away in his back pocket.

Kenzie set aside the pile of book reports she’d finished grading and thrummed her fingers on the counter. Her stomach rumbled, but aside from a box of cereal and some various unappetizing cans of whatever, she didn’t have much in her apartment. Time to go shopping. Or maybe she’d call for take-out tonight and hit the grocery store tomorrow on her way home from work.

Yeah, that sounded better.

Kenzie stood to search her junk drawer for the phonebook when a short, staccato-like knock sounded at the door. Three raps, followed by a short pause, and then another quick one. She smiled. Ty. It was like he’d programmed that knock into his hand.

“Door’s open,” she called.

The handle turned, and his head poked inside. “Hungry?”

The spicy scent of Chinese wafted through the room to where Kenzie stood. His timing couldn’t have been more perfect. She pushed her drawer shut with a snap. “It’s like you can read my mind sometimes. How did you know I was starving and have nothing to eat?”

He let himself in and closed the door behind him. “It’s called telepathy. I’m like Santa in that respect, only I don’t need people to tell me what they want. I just know.”

“Wow, that must be exhausting,” Kenzie said, matching his dry tone as she grabbed a couple of plates from the cupboard. “It’s no wonder you hate Christmas if Santa-like thoughts are going through your mind all the time.”

“Exactly.”

Kenzie pulled open the silverware drawer, but Ty quickly nudged her aside and closed it, trapping the silverware inside. “Sorry, but we’re doing the authentic thing tonight.”

He couldn’t be serious. He was serious. Drat. Kenzie’s mouth drew into a pout. “But I’m no good with chopsticks, and I’m starving.”

He leaned against the counter, blocking the drawer. “You promised you’d use chopsticks the next time we got Chinese.”

He was right. She had promised, but that didn’t mean she’d intended to keep it. “I made that promise under duress so it doesn’t count.”

His eyebrows crinkled. “How do you figure?”

“You wouldn’t let me have my fortune cookie until I did.”

“You call that duress?”

“Yeah,” Kenzie said, trying to push him aside so she could get a fork. “I had to know what my fortune said. Now please move.”

“I don’t think so.” Ty’s lips twitched as he side-stepped toward her, completely blocking the drawer. “Under duress or not, you made a promise, and I refuse to let a fork make a liar out of you. Trust me when I say that you’ll thank me for this one day.”

“Meanie,” Kenzie said.

“‘Sticks and stones, luv. Sticks and stones,’” Ty said, quoting a favorite movie line. He handed her the plates, shooed her toward the table, and then filled two water glasses.

Kenzie grumbled, but picked up a pair of chopsticks and dumped some rice and orange chicken on her plate. Ten minutes later, after only getting three pieces of chicken into her mouth while watching Ty devour half of his Mongolian beef, Kenzie resorted to stabbing her food. Ty rolled his eyes and finally relented by getting her a fork.

He dangled it just out of reach. “Next time,” he said.

“I promise.”

“Yeah right.” Still, he gave her the fork and picked up his chopsticks, dropping back down on his chair. “So,” he said, “work late tonight?”

“I take it you heard me come in?” Living directly below her, Ty usually did. It made Kenzie grateful she lived on the top floor.

“I really don’t think they put any insulation between the floors,” Ty said. “I can pretty much hear everything. When you get up. When you flush the toilet or wash dishes. When you leave and when you come home. Sometimes, I even know what you’re watching on TV. It makes me feel like a stalker.”

“So the telepathy thing was—”

“Total bull.”

Kenzie laughed, something she did often with Ty. If she ever had a bad day, he could always turn it around. Looking at him now, as he ate so easily with a pair of sticks for utensils, she really had no idea why he didn’t date more than he did. Besides being smart and funny in that clever, dry way of his, he had that sort of carefree, I-don’t-care-what-anyone-thinks vibe going on. From the messy way he styled his short, dark hair to his expressive green eyes, he really was quite a catch.

“And here I thought I finally figured out why you don’t like Christmas,” she said, shaking her head in mock despair.

Ty smiled, but there was an underlying touch of seriousness in his eyes. “Guess that’ll have to remain a mystery.”

And a mystery it was. At first, Kenzie figured Ty just didn’t get into Christmas—the way he didn’t really get into Halloween, Easter, or any of the other holidays. But lately she began to wonder if it could be something more than disinterest that bothered him. That maybe there was a reason he didn’t care for this particular holiday. Something that involved his mom.

Hmmm. She’d have to get to the bottom of that.

“Speaking of Christmas,” Kenzie said, pointing to a small stack of mail on the counter. “I think the invitation to your company’s holiday party came in my mail today. At least it looks like an invitation.”

Ty dumped more rice on his plate, followed by a heap of Mongolian beef. “Feel free to pitch it. Or use it to decorate your classroom. I really don’t care.”

“You’re not going?”

“No.”

Kenzie frowned. Ty spent way too much time working and not nearly enough time having fun. He needed to get out more, date, experience life. This all work and very little play wasn’t getting him anywhere—especially not when he spent most of his free time with her.

“Why don’t you want to go?” she said.

Ty shrugged. “It’s a black tie thing for employees plus one, with dinner and dancing. I’m not about to go solo to something like that.”

“So bring a plus one.” There. Problem solved.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t have a plus one to bring.”

“So find one.” Honestly, he could be so frustrating at times. How hard could it be for someone as handsome and fun as him to find a date? Any girl would be crazy not to go out with him. In fact, if Kenzie wasn’t already engaged—

No, she definitely wasn’t going there.

Ty studied her over the top of his plate. “You make it sound so easy, as though I could drive to the nearest gas station and pick one up. Well it’s not. Girls like you, who also happen to be available, aren’t exactly easy to find. And I’m not about to take just anyone to my company Christmas party.”

“So what you’re saying is that you’d take me? If I wasn’t engaged?”

Ty seemed to mull it over and then shrugged. “Yeah, I could probably handle hanging out with you for a night.”

“Handle?” Kenzie’s eyes narrowed. “You did not just say ‘handle,’ did you?”

Ty’s eyes teased her from across the table. “Unless they’re serving Chinese food. In that case, no way. It would be an embarrassment to bring a date who couldn’t use a simple pair of chopsticks.”

“There’s nothing simple about them,” Kenzie muttered, dumping the last of the orange chicken on her plate. “And like it or not, Ty McKenzie, you’re going to that Christmas party, you’re going to take me, and you’re going to have a blast. And if they do end up serving Chinese, you’re going to get me a fork.”

AN EVIL LOOK look met Ty when he walked into his office building after lunch. Linda, the receptionist, wasn’t happy with him, and he knew exactly why. He spun to bypass the desk and avoid the matronly woman, but her slightly raspy voice halted his progress.

“I’ve fielded at least five calls for you this morning, Tyler. Can you guess who they’re from?”

Ty sighed and turned toward Linda. Gray streaked through her once brown hair, but the lines of frustration around her eyes made her look older than usual. “I’m sure you transferred them all to my voicemail, just like you always do.”

“Oh no.” Linda picked up a pile of sticky notes and slapped it down in front of Ty. “Voicemail’s not good enough anymore. Now she wants me to take them personally and see that you get them.”

Ty glanced down the hall toward his office. He should have changed his name. Told his mother he was moving to Texas instead of Rochester. Or better yet—Madagascar. Why hadn’t he done that? Instead, he’d stupidly thought that moving across the country would solve the problem of her running interference with his life.

“You’ve done your job, Linda. I now know my mom called, so feel free to throw the messages in the trash.”

Linda’s head shook. “I’m really getting sick of this.”

And Ty was getting sick of hearing about it. “Well, thanks to you and your complete disregard for employee confidentiality, I’m now getting mail at home as well,” Ty reminded her. “You owe me.”

“I only gave her your address, not your cell number.” She paused. “Yet.”

“Linda,” Ty warned.

She met his stare above the rim of her bifocals. “This has gone way beyond an inconvenience.”

For him and her both. But other than giving in to the pressure and calling his mother back, the only thing Ty could do was ignore the problem and hope it went away. Soon. “I’m sorry, but if you can put up with it for a few more weeks, until after Christmas, I’m sure things will go back to normal. My mom gets overly excited around the holidays, that’s all.”

The lines around Linda’s eyes softened as she held out the stack of messages. “Take the advice of a mother and call her back. She obviously cares about you a lot or she wouldn’t keep calling. I’m sure she just wants to hear your voice and know that you’re okay.”