His Temptation, Her Secret

“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.”