Second Chances

by T. M. Franklin

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Summary

  Title

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Epilogue

  Also by T.M. Franklin

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Copyright © T.M. Franklin, 2017

  Published by Enchanted Publications

  The right of T.M. Franklin to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her under the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000

  This work is copyrighted. All rights are reserved. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover images by:

  © Period Images

  stock.adobe.com

  © ekostsov

  © Timmary

  © boroboro

  Cover design by: T.M. Franklin

  www.enchantedpublications.com

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9985468-6-5

  ISBN-10: 0-9985468-6-0

  Visit the Author’s web site at

  www.TMFranklin.com

  Sometimes second chances aren’t quite what you expect.

  Every Christmas Eve, Carter Reed sits in a bar and regrets the decision he made ten years earlier that tore the love of his life from him. Mackenzie Monroe was his everything, but he left her behind to follow his dreams.

  Now those dreams all revolve around her. The one who got away.

  Or so he thinks.

  A not-so-chance encounter with a mysterious stranger sends Carter on a mystical journey to fix the mistakes of the past. But he quickly finds out making things right isn’t as simple as making a different choice.

  Second Chances is a story about a man who gets a peek at what his life could be, if only he’d walked a different path. In the tradition of It’s a Wonderful Life and A Christmas Carol, it’s a heartwarming romance sprinkled with a touch of magic that’s sure to become a holiday favorite.

  Snow fell softly on the New York City streets as people rushed here and there trying to get to Christmas Eve festivities, wives gripping their husbands’ arms to avoid slipping on the icy sidewalk. Down the street, a man in a Santa suit stood next to a Salvation Army bucket, haphazardly ringing a bell. Teenage boys, who had snuck out after dark, laughed and threw snowballs while trading sips from a bottle of vodka swiped from a father’s liquor cabinet.

  Carter Reed saw none of it.

  He sat at a nondescript bar, as he had every Christmas Eve for the past ten years. Different cities. Different bars. The same memories.

  He frowned at his distorted reflection in the mirror behind the bar, swirling his drink idly, before taking a sip with a slight grimace.

  “Mind if I sit here?” A pretty young woman with pink hair appeared in the mirror beside him, but Carter didn’t turn to face her. He shrugged in response and watched her reflection distractedly as she climbed onto the stool to his right. She was tall, almost as tall as him, he’d guess, and her curly hair varied in shade from the barest hint of pink at the roots to almost fuchsia at the ends brushing her shoulders. Her skin was pale, cheeks flushed and her eyes a vivid blue. The color combination reminded him of cotton candy . . . or unicorns. Next to her, he looked monochromatic, his own dark blond hair and black jacket making his skin look almost gray in comparison.

  She smiled at him in invitation. “Sure is cold,” she said as she tugged off a pair of leather gloves. “Thought I’d stop in here to warm up. Oh!” She looked up at the TV in the corner and her smile widened as she slipped out of her coat, laying it on the stool beside her. “I love this movie!”

  Carter followed her gaze, recognizing a familiar scene from It’s a Wonderful Life. George Bailey was about to jump from the bridge, in the hopes that his life insurance would pay off his family’s debt. Carter watched in silence as Clarence—the angel sent to save George’s life—beat him to the punch and plunged into the icy water.

  “I watch it every year, and it still makes me cry,” the woman said quietly, propping her elbows on the bar.

  Carter nodded slightly and swallowed the rest of his drink, rolling an ice cube around his mouth once before letting it plop back into the glass.

  “I’m Tess,” she said tentatively, a little put off by Carter’s indifferent demeanor.

  Carter took a breath and forced a slight smile, not wanting to offend her. She seemed nice enough. It wasn’t her fault he was in a terrible mood and intent on wallowing in that mood for the rest of the night.

  “Carter,” he said finally, catching the bartender’s attention and lifting his empty glass. The bartender nodded and Carter pointed to Tess, indicating he should bring her a drink as well. Evidently, Tess was a regular, because the bartender didn’t ask what she wanted, but delivered a clear drink in a tumbler along with Carter’s whiskey.

  “Thanks,” she said with a smile, sipping her drink.

  “Gin and tonic?” Carter asked.

  “Vodka Collins,” Tess replied, running her finger around the rim of the glass. “So . . . Carter . . . you on your way to a party?” She glanced down at the engraved invitation lying on the bar next to a thick, hardback book.

  Her book.

  Carter took another gulp of his drink. “Decided not to go,” he said shortly.

  Unthwarted, Tess persisted. “Yeah,” she said, “I can see where a dim and dusty bar would hold much more appeal than a big, glamorous charity party at . . .” She glanced at the invitation again and smirked slightly. “. . . the Hotel Martienne.”

  Carter said nothing.

  “Wait a second, the Martienne?” Tess continued. “I read about that in the paper. Isn’t Mackenzie Monroe supposed to be there?”

  Carter cringed slightly, hearing her name spoken aloud.

  “Yeah . . .” Tess reached for the book, flipping it over so she could see the cover. “Oh wow—I love Cold Winter Nights! The whole Nights series is amazing,” she said, her own excitement making her oblivious to Carter’s discomfort.

  “Mackenzie Monroe is my favorite author,” she gushed. “They were giving away a couple tickets to the party on the radio, but I couldn’t get through. I can’t believe you have an invitation and you’re not going!”

  Tess paused, and Carter fought a heavy sigh, knowing she was hoping he would give her his invitation, or at least ask her to go along. He glanced at her in the mirror. She was flipping through his copy of Cold Winter Nights with a smile on her face. He’d intended to go. To finally see Kenzie . . . speak to her. He’d ducked into the bar only to garner a little liquid courage.

  He was still waiting for that courage to kick in.

  It had been ten long years since he made the biggest mistake of his life. He’d had the ring in his pocket, but at the last minute opted to give Kenzie the silver bracelet he’d purchased as a backup Christmas gift instead. She’d smiled and thanked him, of course, but it was just a few days later that they had The Talk.

  The Do We Have a Future? Talk.

 
; The Are We Moving Forward? Talk.

  The Will You Commit to Me or Leave Me Behind When You Take That Internship in New York? Talk.

  He’d let her go. He said he wasn’t ready and Kenzie’s eyes had filled with tears. He’d left her behind, moved to New York, and tried not to look back.

  But on Christmas Eve, looking back was all he could do. The what-ifs just about drove him crazy, and instead of missing her less with each passing year, he found he actually missed her more. In the early years, he’d picked up the phone a hundred times to call her, but shame and guilt kept him from dialing her number. Plus, there was the fact that nothing had really changed. He was still in New York, pursuing a career in television journalism. She was still in grad school in Seattle, and from what little he’d heard from mutual friends, she’d moved on.

  He hadn’t. He tried dating, but never really connected with anyone. He tried one-night stands, but found them unfulfilling. So he focused on his career, working long hours, moving up the ladder, and trying not to think about what he’d left behind.

  It only got worse when Kenzie’s first novel hit the New York Times Bestseller list . . . as did her second. Soon, her picture was in every bookstore . . . on TV commercials . . . her glowing brown eyes seemed to surround him, watching his every move.

  It was torture.

  So when the network offered him a foreign correspondent position, he’d jumped at the chance. He traveled the world, reporting on wars, famine, drugs, politics . . . and spent as little time in the United States as possible. He lived out of a worn duffle bag, roaming from disaster to tragedy, and avoiding civilization as much as he could. But now, after six years on the road, he’d been given the opportunity for a special weekly segment on the nightly news. It was an offer too good to pass up, but it meant less time out of the country. He came back to New York to meet with his executive producer and found out all of the senior management and on-air talent had been invited to a charity party.

  Where Mackenzie Monroe was to be the guest of honor.

  To see her name printed on the invitation was jarring, to say the least. In that moment, he decided he was going to go to that party and see her. Say hello, and finally lay the past to rest. He’d even bought a copy of her latest book so he’d have a reason to approach her.

  He’d already read it, of course—numerous times. He always snagged a copy of her books as soon as they were released and devoured them quickly, straining to find a glimpse of who Kenzie had become in the printed lines. His own copy of Cold Winter Nights was dog-eared and cracked, the dust cover torn from his repeated readings. Tess was right—the book was amazing.

  “Carter?” Tess’s voice made him realize he’d been staring off into space. “You okay?”

  Carter sucked an ice cube out of his drink and crunched it slowly. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  Carter shrugged.

  “Might help,” she suggested.

  He considered Tess’s offer. For some reason, he liked her . . . felt he could trust her. He’d just met her, but she almost felt like a friend, and the truth was, he had very few of those. Carter’s tongue was also a little loose, given the whiskey he’d had, and he thought it might be nice to have someone to talk to.

  Oh, why not? He was in a wallowing mood. Might as well add whining to the equation. Carter reached for the invitation, running his fingers over the engraved lettering, before tapping it against the bar lightly.

  “I was actually on my way to the party when I stopped in here,” he said finally.

  Tess sipped her drink. “And . . .” she prodded.

  Carter exhaled heavily before he continued, “. . . and, I just can’t bring myself to get up and go.”

  “What’s stopping you?”

  Carter grimaced slightly. “Kenzie.”

  “Kenzie?” she repeated slowly before her mouth dropped open. “You mean Mackenzie Monroe? You know her?”

  “I did. It was a long time ago.” His eyes focused on Kenzie’s name in gold, sparkling script on the invitation.

  Tess studied him for a moment before she nodded slowly in understanding. “I should have known.”

  Carter turned to her in curiosity. “Known what?”

  “Haven’t you heard?” she replied wryly. “All the good ones are either married or gay . . . or still in love with the one that got away.”

  Carter flushed slightly. “Is it that obvious?”

  “Only to an extremely gifted judge of character.”

  Carter chuckled.

  “I never thought a guy who dodges grenades for a living would be such a chicken,” Tess teased.

  Carter’s eyes widened. “How did you know—”

  Tess waved a hand before picking up her drink again. “It took me a minute to place the face, but I do watch the news.” She rolled her eyes at his shocked look. “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me, Carter. But seriously, this is obviously killing you. Don’t you want to at least try to see her?”

  Carter swallowed down the rest of his drink, a warm numbness finally drifting from his stomach to his extremities. Of course he wanted to see her . . . needed to see her.

  He could do this.

  Taking a deep breath, he offered Tess a shaky smile. “Want to go to a party?”

  Carter felt the nausea set in as they headed for the Hotel Martienne, each passing block adding to the lump of anxiety in the pit of his stomach.

  “You okay?” Tess’s worried gaze proved his inner turmoil was more than evident on his face.

  He shrugged. “Yeah. I just . . . what if she hates me?” he murmured quietly.

  To her credit, Tess didn’t try to gloss over Carter’s concerns. “Maybe she will,” she said bluntly, “but isn’t it better to know for sure? It’s pretty obvious you can’t move on with your life without knowing for certain that it’s over with her.

  “And there’s always the chance that she misses you as much as you miss her,” she pointed out with a light touch on his arm. “That’s worth the risk, don’t you think?”

  Carter nodded, his swallow sticking in his throat as he turned to look out the window. The cab pulled up in front of the hotel and with a deep breath, Carter got out, turning to offer his hand to Tess as she alighted.

  “Here goes nothing,” he said with a weak grin as he released her hand.

  Tess patted her hair. “Are you sure I look okay?” She’d insisted they stop at her apartment so she could at least change into a dress and freshen her makeup. Her cotton candy hair was swept up in a fifties-style roll and dangly earrings sparkled as she moved.

  “You look fine,” he said, then quickly added, “I mean . . . great.”

  Tess tossed her head. “Sweet talker,” she replied. “Come on. Let’s go get your girl.”

  They walked across the hotel lobby, and Carter barely noticed the three-story-high grand columns sweeping upward to the backlit onyx ceiling. Tess, however, took it all in with wide eyes—from the marble floor to the twenty-four-foot Christmas tree decorated with twinkling lights and sparkling ornaments.

  “This is incredible,” she murmured, but Carter didn’t hear her. His eyes were on the entrance to Monique’s, the restaurant off the hotel lobby where the party was being held. He felt Tess take his hand, squeezing it in encouragement before letting it go as they walked into the restaurant and he handed his invitation to a man at the door. He gripped his copy of Kenzie’s book tightly as his eyes adjusted to the dim interior. The only light in the spacious room came from the candles on the tables and the thousands of twinkling Christmas lights entwined in the room’s trademark Acacia trees. Carter couldn’t focus on the atmosphere, however. His eyes scanned the room anxiously, searching for the face that had haunted his dreams for years . . . Hell, for as long as he could remember.

  Then he saw her.

  She was standing on the opposite side of the room, her face glowing as she smiled at the people around her. She was wearing a black cocktail d
ress, shot through with some kind of silver thread that caught the light, causing her to almost sparkle under the twinkling trees. Carter’s eyes drank in her form, sliding down her body to take in the long legs peeking out from the short hem of the dress, and the teetering heels she never would have worn when he knew her.

  She laughed, and Carter’s breath caught.

  Even over the voices in the crowded room, he recognized her familiar tinkling laughter and his gaze shot to her face to see sparkling eyes and a light flush staining her cheeks. If Kenzie ten years before was pretty . . . gorgeous, even . . . this Kenzie was breathtaking—her natural beauty heightened by the confidence of a woman who’d come into her own.

  If Carter had any doubts before that moment that he was still in love with her, they were obliterated.

  He was lost.

  “Are you just going to stand here staring at her?” Tess whispered, elbowing him lightly. Carter jumped slightly at the intrusion into his little Kenzie bubble.

  He cleared his throat. “No. I’m going,” he said, grabbing a couple of champagne flutes from the tray of a passing waiter. He handed one to Tess and drained his own in a couple of quick gulps before squaring his shoulders and turning to walk toward Kenzie. He took one step and stopped in his tracks.

  A tall, dark-haired man approached Kenzie, handing her a drink and placing his hand on the small of her back possessively. She smiled up at him and sipped her champagne as he leaned in and kissed her cheek softly. They turned together to talk to the couple in front of them and again, Kenzie laughed at something one of them had said. She leaned slightly into the man’s body, and Carter felt his blood heat.

  Who was that?

  Unconsciously, he took a few steps backward.

  “Carter?” Tess was watching him warily. “What are you doing?”

  “I can’t . . .” Carter shook his head slowly. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Don’t you want to talk to her?”

  “I can’t,” he repeated, his eyes still focused on the man who’d apparently replaced him.

  Tess looked longingly toward Kenzie. “Okay . . . we can go,” she said quietly. “If you’re sure . . .”