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“You’re going out on a high note.”
TJ’s phone vibrated in his tux pocket. He had it on silent, but Tasha obviously heard the low buzz.
“You can get that,” she said.
“There’s nobody I need to talk to right now.”
“What if it’s one of your investors?”
“It’s Saturday night.”
“It’s Sunday morning in Australia.” Tasha was aware of TJ’s investment company’s global reach.
“So, it’s not a workday there either.” He had no intention of interrupting the wedding reception with business.
The buzzing stopped.
“See?” he told her. “It went away.”
“It always goes away when you don’t pick up.”
The phone buzzed again.
She stopped dancing. “You need to get that, TJ.”
“No, I don’t.” He gently urged her to move.
“At least see who it is.”
“It’s nobody more important than you and Matt.”
“It could be an emergency.”
“Fine.” He wasn’t about to stand in the middle of the dance floor and argue with the bride.
He discreetly withdrew his phone and started dancing again.
Apparently appeased, she matched his movements.
Glancing down, he was surprised to see the call was from Seattle’s St. Bea’s Hospital. His company was a longtime contributor to Highside Hospital near his home in Whiskey Bay. But there was no affiliation with St. Bea’s. He supposed someone could be soliciting a donation.
“Who is it?” Tasha asked.
He realized he’d stopped dancing again.
“St. Bea’s Hospital.”
A look of concern came over her face. “Someone could be hurt.”
“I don’t know why they’d take them to St. Bea’s.”
He was acquainted with a few people in Seattle, but most of his friends were in Whiskey Bay or Washington’s capital city, Olympia, which was the closest major city. Even in Olympia, there was nobody who’d have him listed as an emergency contact.
The ringing stopped again.
“You better call them back,” Tasha said. She linked her arm with his, steering him off the dance floor.
“Tasha,” he protested.
“Humor me, or I’ll worry.”
“If that’s what it takes.” He hated being the cause of a disruption.
“That’s what it takes.”
At the edge of the floor, she moved away, giving him privacy.
TJ kept walking to the foyer, where the sound of the band was blocked, so it was quieter. He hit the callback button.
“St. Bea’s Hospital, Oncology,” a crisp female voice answered.
Oncology? Someone had cancer? “This is Travis Bauer. I’m returning a call from this number.”
“Yes, Mr. Bauer. Let me put you through to Dr. Stannis.”
“What is this—” TJ stopped talking when the line clicked and went silent.
He waited a few moments, not sure whether to be anxious or simply curious.
“Mr. Bauer?”
“Yes?”
“This is Dr. Shelley Stannis. I’m with the oncology transplant department here at St. Bea’s.”
A light came on for TJ. “Is this about a bone marrow donation?”
“Yes, it is. Thank you for calling back so quickly. Obviously, I got your information from the registry. We have a young leukemia patient here who is a potential match with you. If you’re available, I’d like to set up a consultation and possibly final testing.”
“How old?” It was the first question that came to TJ’s mind.
“He’s nine years old,” she said.
TJ didn’t hesitate. “When do you need me?”
“Are you saying you’re willing to donate?”
“Absolutely.”
“Do you have any questions?”
“I’m sure I will, although not right now. I’m in Boston. But I can come back.”
There was a pause on the line. “If it’s possible, Mr. Bauer, we’d like to do the tests tomorrow. As you can imagine, we have a very anxious mother hoping you’ll turn out to be a close enough match.”
“I’ll be there. And please, call me TJ.”
“Thank you very much, TJ.”
“Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He ended the call.
“Everything okay?” Matt had appeared beside him.
“Fine. Hopefully very fine. I may be a bone marrow match for a nine-year-old boy in Seattle.”
It seemed to take Matt a moment to process the statement.
“I really hate to cut out on you,” TJ said.
“Go!” Matt said, making a shooing motion with his hands. “Go, save a life.”
TJ could feel his adrenaline come up with purpose. His next call was to a jet charter company he’d used in the past.
He didn’t want to fight for a seat on a red-eye when a young boy and his mother were waiting. And he could afford to fly privately. There were moments in life when it came in handy to be a ridiculously wealthy man.
* * *
As she followed the wide corridor at St. Bea’s Hospital, Sage Costas’s heels echoed against the polished linoleum. Her stomach churned as it had for the past nine days while her son, Eli, had undergone a battery of tests and been diagnosed with an aggressive form of leukemia. The closer she came to the family lounge, the harder her heart pounded. She found herself wondering how much stress the human body could endure before it simply shut down.
She’d barely slept all week, hadn’t slept at all last night. She’d forced herself to shower this morning and put on a little makeup. She didn’t know why she thought makeup might help. But she wanted to make a good impression. She was terrified the donor would back out.
She could see him now. Through the lounge windows, she could see a tall, dark-haired, smartly dressed man talking to Dr. Stannis. He had to be the donor.
Her steps slowed, and she swallowed. Then she stopped at the closed door. It was more than she could do to push the handle. She’d prayed desperately for this moment. So much was at stake. She wasn’t sure she could face it if the process fell apart.
She forced herself to open the door and step inside the lounge.
Dr. Stannis immediately spotted her. “Hello, Sage.”
The man turned. His expression was instant bewilderment. “Sage?”
Her world tipped on its axis.
“Is that you?” he asked, stepping forward.
A roar came up in her ears. Her vision switched to black and white, then tunneled down to a pinhole.
“Sage?” Dr. Stannis moved quickly, taking her by the arm.
Sage’s brain pulsed a million miles an hour. The room swayed for a moment, until her vision cleared.
He was still standing there.
“I’m fine,” she managed to say around the lingering noise inside her head.
“Have you met TJ Bauer?” Dr. Stannis asked with obvious curiosity.
“We went to the same high school.” Her voice was little more than a squeak.
How could this be happening?
“It’s your son who’s sick?” TJ’s expression was filled with concern. “I’m so sorry, Sage.”
Then his forehead creased, and she could all but see the calculations going on inside his head.
He turned to the doctor. “You said he was nine?”
“Yes.”
TJ twisted slowly back to Sage, his words carefully enunciated. “And I’m a likely bone marrow match for him?”
Sage tried to swallow again, but her throat had gone paper dry.
TJ’s eyes shifted from blue to gray thunder. “Is he my son?”
The doctor went still. The entire world went still. The ventilation system clicked against the booming silence.
All Sage could manage was a nod.
Dr. Stannis’s grip firmed up on Sage’s arm. “Perhaps we should sit down.”
“I have a son?” TJ asked, his voice hoarse. “You got pregnant?”
Sage tried to speak. She managed to move her lips, but no sounds came out.
TJ wasn’t having the same problem. “And you didn’t tell me?”
Dr. Stannis jumped in. “I think it would be best if we all—”
Bitterness suddenly broke through Sage’s fear. She found her voice, all but shouting. “You didn’t deserve to know.”
“Sage.” Dr. Stannis’s tone was shocked and sharp.
Sage immediately realized her mistake.
They were dependent on TJ. Eli’s life depended on this man’s good graces, this man who had deceived her, lied to her and taken shameless advantage of her teenage naïveté as a prank to amuse his friends.
She hated him. But he was the one person who could save her son’s life.
