Twist of Fate

By Janet Whitson

A smart, closed-door romance between a feisty musician and the man who thinks she's a gold-digger.

A steamy version (no longer available) of this sweet romance story was previously published as Twist of Fate under the pen name Susan Craig.

Daniel Smith has a secr

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ormerod House
• Release date: Feb 20, 2022
• ISBN: 9781957628059

Janet Whitson

Janet Whitson is an author, nature-junkie, and believer in Happily Ever After. She loves the classics (Tolkien, Rowling, Lucas, TCM), fishing, outdoor photography, pizza, and collecting quotations. Her goal has always been to live a life she'd enjoy reading about. In pursuit of that she's been a mom, wife, color consultant, scientific researcher, university dean, and romance author among other things. She enjoys using her imagination to create stories of love and romance about women worth knowing and men worth loving... none of whom are perfect. Her characters are fictional, but the love she writes about is real.Janet lives on a lake in the beautiful state of Texas with her wickedly funny husband and their mixed breed dog, Lady.Visit Janet's website at www.janetwhitson.com and sign up for her mailing list!

Book preview

Chapter one

Daniel Smith slumped on the sleek leather sectional dominating one corner of the living room in his parent’s Palos Verdes home. He nursed a tumbler of scotch, watching his mother’s guests, the elite of Los Angeles, play see-and-be-seen.

Before him, the party swirled like the sea itself. New arrivals moved in waves from the front door, past a glittering expanse of black granite hearth, and out the open wall toward catering tables and the fifteen-foot bar gracing the rear deck.

Daniel’s gaze settled on the flames in the fireplace. They were unnecessary on a warm Southern California night. But according to his mother, an empty hearth was cold and unwelcoming. He pressed his lips together in a grimace. It would take more than the fire to bring warmth back into this house—his father had seen to that.

Daniel would have canceled the party. But not Mom. She was no quitter. He gave a mental shrug. She deserved her fire—the air conditioner could deal with the extra heat.

A draught of air from outside brought with it the faint scent of pears and, more strongly, the odors of food and drink and people filling the deck behind him. Looking toward the front door, he surveyed the crowded entryway. He should lend a hand greeting guests and ease the congestion. As he shifted forward to stand, a familiar figure approached.

So, Danny boy, how are you?

Daniel leaned back against the cushions and lifted his tumbler in salute. Hey Martin, how’s the brand new M.D.? Have a seat. Can I get you a drink?

I’m good for now. Martin sat down. Say, I heard about Tiff and your old man. Sorry about that. You all right?

Daniel stared at his scotch and grimaced. You mean am I heartbroken and jealous? No. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. But I am insulted, disgusted, and stunned. I had no idea she was playing me like that. I should never have brought her here.

"You brought her here?"

Daniel shrugged a shoulder. Yeah. She wanted to come here for a swim. Mom and the girls were gone and Dad was at work, so I figured…

You figured no one would disturb you.

Well, yeah. And no one did. Then later when we were sunning, she hops up and goes inside. I thought she needed the bathroom. It didn’t register until afterward that Dad’s Jag had come snarling in a few minutes earlier. By the time I got to wondering what was keeping her, it was too late. I walked in on her and the old man in that big leather chair in his study.

Man. That’s even worse than the rumors I heard.

Daniel angled his eyebrows toward Martin. So keep it to yourself, all right?

You got it. Martin glanced around the room. Quite the bash your mom’s putting on for this conductor.

Daniel looked at the crowd. All the movers and shakers were here. All but his father.

He looked for any sign on Elaine Smith’s face of the turmoil that the last few days had brought. The smooth, glowing skin and bright, clear eyes held no hint of weeping or sleepless nights. She greeted her guests graciously, with a regal demeanor that silently forbade questions about his father’s absence. Amazing. I don’t see how he can do this to her.

Martin turned his head, speaking quietly. Mid-life crisis?

Daniel snorted in reply. "For the last ten years? He’s never been the husband she deserves. We all ignored it—that’s what she wanted. He’d be ‘distracted’ for a while, then everything would be fine again. If I hadn’t brought Tiff here—if she hadn’t gotten her hooks into him like she has—everything would still be fine. Dad would have had some other fling and come back home, full of apologies and making it up to Mom with a new car or more diamonds or some other expensive toy."

Why d’you think it’s different with Tiffany?

Don’t know. Maybe because she chose him over me? Not that she ever really had me—you know my rules.

Martin muffled a snort of laughter. Your rules haven’t changed since high school—no strings, no promises, no broken hearts.

Daniel nodded. "That’s right. People say I’m like him. Well, I’m not taking any chances. Life is better solo anyhow. No way I’ll ever put a woman through the misery he’s given Mom. He’s made her life a rollercoaster of hope and disappointment for years.

At any rate, that ride seems to be over. He’s been different with Tiffany. She scored a diamond necklace right off. A month later, they were still together, and she began driving around town in a classic Mustang he bought her. Now the old man takes her around as if nothing is wrong—they use our box seats at the ballpark and our season tickets to the theatre. Daniel gave his head an abrupt shake as if to clear it. Before Tiffany, at least he was discreet.

Martin nodded, but said nothing. There was nothing anyone could say that would help.

Turning his head, Daniel took another swallow from the heavy crystal tumbler, watching with a jaundiced eye as conversational groups formed, grew, shifted and split like living organisms.

On the far side of the room, near the doorway, his two older sisters kept up a polite conversation with a big florid-complexioned man and his wife, who stood beside her husband, smiling at stories she must have heard a hundred times before. Daniel took another sip of scotch and scowled. It was all such a fraud.

Martin followed his friend’s gaze. What do your sisters think?

"They arranged for us to lunch with Dad yesterday, hoping the three of us could talk some sense into him. Instead—I still can’t believe it—he brought her along and told us he was in love and was going to marry her. She was flashing an enormous diamond and looking at him like he was some deity. It was nauseating."

Martin! Daniel! How are the two of you? Miles Baumann, attorney for both Daniel and Martin’s families, came toward them. As the two rose to their feet, Daniel’s gaze skittered right, then left, searching for an escape route.

Martin, a staunch friend, leapt into the breach. Sir, he said, I’ve been wanting to get your advice regarding the various loans I’ve taken out for med school. You see, I need a strategy… He moved toward the deck, drawing the attorney along with him.

Thank you, Martin! Sighing in relief, Daniel glanced toward the entryway. Not such a crowd anymore. He sank back onto the leather cushions, swallowed more of the scotch and tried to shift his brain to neutral. There was nothing he could do now to repair his parent’s marriage. What was done was done.

A buzz by the doorway caused him to lift his head. The guest of honor had arrived. As the crowd greeting the conductor shifted, Daniel straightened, his gaze sliding over an eye-catching curve of derriere to the hem of a short skirt and down to ultra-high silver heels encasing a pair of slim feet. The woman’s figure was striking—leggy, yet petite. Muscles tense, he stood. Short, blonde hair topped enticing curves that filled a glittering dress with a low back. He moved forward. Who was she?

A suit-coated male arm wrapped around the slim waist and Daniel refocused on Lazlo Korczynski. As the silver-haired conductor turned to acknowledge Elaine Smith’s introductions, the woman shifted with him. Daniel moved to the side, intent on seeing her face. Her hand rested on Korczynski’s bicep and her expression… Daniel’s stomach curled. She gazed at the conductor as if he was beyond mortal—the same look Dan senior’s little home-wrecker had worn yesterday.

The four-stranded collar around the blonde’s neck winked and sparkled in the light of the entryway. Looks like diamonds and pearls. Daniel squinted at the necklace. Yep, she’s just like Tiffany, going after the main chance. With a shake of his head, he turned away.

What’s the matter, Danny? You look so grim.

Daniel jerked his head up. His younger sister, fifteen-year-old Michelle, stood in front of him. He shoved aside his sourness and smiled at her. I’m fine, just not in the mood for playing the happy camper tonight. How are you doing?

You mean with the Mom-Dad thing? I’m okay. I’m sorta glad it’s finally out in the open. It was stupid the way everyone pretended Dad didn’t play around.

Daniel raised his eyebrows and blinked. Michelle wasn’t supposed to know about his father’s unfaithfulness. That was one reason no one spoke about it. Then he grinned. What a lot of wasted effort that had been. He opened his mouth to speak, but his sister was on a roll.

I think Mom’s better off without him. She’ll be happier. And she won’t be alone. I’m still here, and she could have boyfriends. She’s so beautiful and nice.

How will that be for you, baby sister? The rest of us can just stay clear.

I’ll be fine. I think Dad’s making a huge mistake, but I don’t hate him, even though you do. And Mom will be okay. Michele frowned momentarily. If I didn’t believe that, I might hate him too.

Daniel lifted a comforting hand to her shoulder, but her eyes opened wide and her gaze zeroed in on the entryway. Look. Billy Stevens came with his parents—he told me he would. Later, Danny. I need to go get Bill before that Sonia Eisner comes over and starts throwing herself at him. She hurried across the room to the new group at the door.

Daniel smirked. He’d thought Michelle needed comfort, but clearly, she did not. He must be projecting his own emotions. Ice clinked in the tumbler he held, and he set the drink aside. Maybe his sisters were right. Maybe he was overreacting. Probably too much alcohol on an empty stomach. He turned toward the kitchen.

Danny, where are you going? His older sister Amber’s voice stopped him.

He turned to face her, adjusting his gaze upward a bit. Amber was tall, five foot nine, and wearing three-inch heels. Tossing an arm around her shoulders, he pulled her close, bringing his lips close to her ear. I’m thinking of sneaking off to the kitchen to get some food that doesn’t have to be paid for with polite conversation. Want to join me? He cocked an eyebrow at her and grinned.

In a minute. I want you to meet someone first.

Daniel gave her a hangdog pleading look. Do I have to?

She smiled, unrepentant. Yes, you have to. A question of veterinary importance has come up, and you are the professional in residence. It’s your duty to respond. Come on now, you know you can’t violate your Hippocratic oath.

He glared at her. Hippocratic oath? You know that’s for physicians.

Well, to my mind, it fits you too. You are a physician to all the sick animals of the world.

I am not. And I never took a Hippocratic oath.

That is entirely beside the point, she said airily. You should have. If you haven’t any oath, I’ll write one for you after the party. Now come meet Matilda Lakewood. She has a horse question for you.

I took the Veterinary Oath, he muttered. But Amber wasn’t listening; she was leading the way across the room.

Obediently, Daniel followed to meet Mrs. Matilda Lakewood, a beyond-middle-aged matron.

"Oh, please Daniel, call me Matty," she said.

Daniel ignored her flirtatious manner and answered her questions politely. Then he discreetly disentangled himself, once again making his way toward the kitchen and food.

As he turned from the hallway into his mother’s well-equipped kitchen, he heard voices.

Come back here, my darling. You can’t run off now. I’ve been trying to get you alone ever since we arrived.

But the party’s in your honor. We can’t hide in here like this.

You are the only party I want.

With a grimace, Daniel moved silently away from the doorway, trying not to hear the murmuring coming from the kitchen. Drat Korczynski and his female. I may starve.

The conductor’s voice rose. Very well then, have it your way. Impatient footsteps approached and Korczynski emerged, scowling and dragging his flushed companion by the hand.

The girl lifted her face toward Daniel’s as the conductor tugged her past. Large, hazel eyes opened wide below tousled white-blonde hair. Red cupid’s bow lips and thick black lashes completed a picture of contrasts.

She looks so young. The thought that such an innocent-looking face could be the latest in the infamous conductor’s string of females was repulsive. But wait.

What am I thinking? She may be young, but if she’s with Korczyinski, she’s no innocent. Her dress revealed a dancer’s body, all grace and barely contained energy. Daniel’s eyes narrowed as he watched her vanish into the crowd, aware of his own quickening interest.

The jeweled collar she wore flashed, as did a bangle on her arm. Had he missed the bracelet earlier, or was it another gift from Korczynski? The interest he’d felt shamed him. He wanted nothing to do with wide-eyed blond gold diggers—the Tiffanies of the world. It was time to go.

He walked into the kitchen, past the professional range and double ovens. Averting his eyes from the ocean of countertop laden with rich food, he opened the door to the garage.

Danny.

He stopped at the sound of his name.

What are you doing? Round with child, his eldest sister Sara maneuvered through the kitchen to his side. Are you all right?

I’m fine. And you? Ducking his head, he gave her an accusing look from under his brows. Have you been on your feet this whole time, or have you been resting like you were told to?

Don’t be a nuisance. You know I can’t help Mom host this party if I’m sitting with my behind in a chair. Are you running off?

I’ve got to. I need to get away from this.

Danny, it’s not your fault that Dad took up with Tiffany Price. It’s not your fault he’s not here when he should be. Those are his choices, not yours.

It isn’t just that. You know how these people depress me—the predatory females, the deceit, the one-upmanship. It’s no way to live. I need to get out.

"Well, you will be out soon, won’t you?"

True. He had his D.V.M. now, and once he was sure Mom was all right, he’d move on. No office full of pampered Pomeranians for him. He wanted a large animal practice with cattle, and horses, and maybe the occasional working dog or family pet. In a few weeks, he’d be on his way to Cedar Hill, Pennsylvania, for a trial partnership in a veterinary practice. Just thinking about it boosted his spirits.

It can’t happen soon enough. I’m sick of empty-headed man-hunters like Tiffany and that minx Korczynski brought. Cedar Hill isn’t big enough or glitzy enough to draw their type. It’ll be like a breath of fresh air. Look, I’ll be back in half an hour. No one will even miss me.

Oh, I don’t know about that, Danny boy. His sister smiled her evil big-sis smile. Sonia Eisner was looking for you.

Then I’m outta here. Do me a favor and tell her I’ve already moved—or died. That child thinks she’s a femme fatale and uses me for target practice. He paused just inside the garage and turned back. And you sit down for a while. I told Ben I’d keep an eye on you while he was gone.

All right. You come back in half an hour, and I’ll sit down and rest a bit. Don’t be late. She shut the door behind him, giving herself the last word, as always.

Daniel crossed the oversized garage toward his Hummer and slid in, frowning at the space where his father’s sporty red Jaguar should have been. The old man was out with his new love instead of at Mom’s side, where he belonged.

The roar of an engine interrupted Daniel’s thoughts, and the garage door lifted. From inside his vehicle, hidden by its tinted glass, he watched his father and Tiffany, in evening dress, exit the Jaguar and enter the house.

For a long moment, Daniel sat stunned. Surely his father wouldn’t… What was he thinking? Shaking off immobility, Daniel slipped out of his car and followed them inside. Dad!

Too late. He heard his father’s voice, greeting Miles Baumann. Though Dan senior spoke in a normal tone, his deep voice seemed to reverberate across the room. Good evening Miles, I’d like you to meet my future wife, Tiffany.

Chapter two

Daniel stepped into the living room amid the stilled conversations and turned heads caused by his father’s announcement. His gaze zoomed to his mother’s face. Shock made her pale for a moment, then she forced a smile and spoke to the cluster of guests surrounding her. Excuse me, please. Now that my husband is here to act as host, I will leave him to it. Thank you for coming, and I wish you a pleasant evening. She turned—back straight, head high—and walked out the front door.

Daniel raced after her, moving as quickly through the crowd as he could without appearing panicked. He reached the door in time to see her step into someone’s black Mercedes and drive off. With a quick about-face, he changed course and headed back to the garage. Leaping into his Hummer, he pulled out and raced down the street, searching for the car his mother had just commandeered.

After only a few bends in the road, he spotted her. She was driving within the speed limit, toward Pacific Coast Highway.

As Daniel approached from behind, she turned south, heading into town. He followed.

When she swung into the lot at the Golden Pheasant restaurant and parked the Mercedes, he parked in a nearby spot and approached her car.

She sat erect behind the wheel, staring straight ahead.

Daniel opened the driver-side door. Mom, I am so sorry. I saw them arrive, but I wasn’t quick enough to stop them.

She didn’t turn to him, but her voice was brisk. It’s not your fault. This has been coming for a long while, though I never expected your father would be so blatant about it. Why would he be so thoughtless, Daniel? She looked at him then, and he saw the pain in her eyes.

So Tiffany could be sure you’d divorce him, he thought. I don’t know, Mom, he said. Do you want to get out of the car?

She shook her head and rested her forehead on the steering wheel.

Shall I get in? Would you like to talk?

No. Drawing in a deep breath, she released it with a sigh. No, I’d like to eat.

Daniel frowned. Eat?

His mother nodded. Yes. I want to eat.

He held the door open and offered his hand. Your wish… he said, leaving the rest of the phrase unspoken.

She managed a smile for him, and together they went inside.

After a silent meal she barely touched, Elaine Smith allowed her son to pull out her chair and escort her from the restaurant. She asked for the keys to his Humvee, saying she was going to a hotel for the night.

Thrown off-balance by her quiet determination, Daniel didn’t argue. He turned over his vehicle and credit card, then followed her to a nearby hotel and stood beside her while she checked in. She didn’t acknowledge his presence until the elevator opened. Reaching a hand out to hold the door, she turned, speaking softly. Daniel, don’t embarrass me further by making a scene with your father. Promise me.

He could feel the heat of anger creeping up his face. Rage at his father boiled higher in proportion to her calm, and he wanted nothing more than to smash his fists into something—preferably his father’s face. He lowered his gaze to hide the hate. All right. I won’t make a scene.

Her hand touched his wrist, gentle and cool.

Looking up, he met her eyes. I promise.

After pulling the borrowed Mercedes back into its parking spot, Daniel switched off the ignition and left the keys. He charged toward the front door… and remembered the promise he’d given to his mother. He stopped, took a deep breath, relaxed his rigid shoulders and unfisted his hands. As he entered the house, the hum of voices mingled with the sound of violins from the string quartet on the terrace. Passing through the crowd like a windblown thundercloud, he saw people but acknowledged no one. He heard sound, but no melody reached his brain. Pausing in the kitchen, he grabbed a bottle of Jameson and ripped off the seal. He poured a tumbler-full and took several swallows. Then, drink in one hand and bottle in the other, he headed up the stairs, toward oblivion.

Striding along the hall to his old bedroom with his mind turned inward, he all but ran down the small woman exiting the upstairs bathroom.

As she opened the bathroom door, Tammy Carmichael kept her brow unfurrowed and her wide-open eyes focused on the carpet, trying to optimize the effect of her anti-redness drops. Lazlo had been furious when she refused to leave by the backdoor as he wished. When they returned to the party, he’d turned his back on her to flirt with a sultry brunette. The sheer meanness of it still hurt. She blinked rapidly, determined not to cry. He’d turned his back on her out of anger. Nothing more.

He hates these affairs. But when it’s over, he’ll thank me. He’ll apologize and…

A hard male body crashed into her, knocking her backward. Whiskey splashed in her face and down her dress. Trying to catch her balance, gagging and coughing from the