“I think we’ve covered that topic fairly thoroughly. But besides the fact your father’s too afraid to face you in person, it’s also a really bad time for him to leave town, even for half a day. With Hannah being so bad off it would look super suspicious for him to go away, even on business.”
”I guess,” she mumbled grudgingly. ”Sounds like your family - especially your dad - would go apeshit if they knew I existed.”
Jackson shuddered visibly. ”That’s putting it mildly. My father would go nuclear, cause all sorts of drama, and you can’t even begin to imagine the chain reaction that he’d - never mind. No need at this point to worry about that stuff. We’ll have time - a little - to come up with a plan for all the precautions we’ll need to take if you’re even a match for Hannah. And,” he added hurriedly, “if you would even agree to be a donor.”
She frowned. “How exactly do they determine if I’m a match? I sure as hell hope it’s not a blood test because I fucking hate needles.”
He chuckled, as though he found her phobia amusing considering how ballsy and seemingly fearless she appeared. “The initial test is just a cheek swab. After that, I’m not positive but unfortunately I think a blood test might be involved. Hey, don’t worry. I’ll hold your hand while they draw the blood.”
Scarlett refused to let on just how much his lighthearted offer affected her, how the very thought of having this hot, gorgeous guy comforting her was more than enough to make her pulse throb wildly. Instead, she blurted out in her usual caustic manner, “Will your girlfriend be okay with that?”
He had the good graces to look just the tiniest bit guilty at her inquiry. “It, uh, wouldn’t be a big deal.”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” she retorted, noticing that he hadn’t denied the existence of said girlfriend. “Because she wouldn’t know anything about me either, right? I’d just be my father’s dirty little secret, swept under the rug and forgotten about once I’ve served my purpose. Save the daughter that he actually gives a damn about, and screw the one who should have never been born in the first place. You know he wanted my mother to abort me, don’t you?”
The look on his face told her the answer was yes. “Who told you that?” he asked softly. “Your mother?”
She shook her head. “I would have been too young to understand if she had ever mentioned it in my presence. She died when I was five, as you already know. No, it was my grandmother who was so kind to inform me. The drunk old bitch used to screech that my mother should have used the few brains she had and got rid of me before I was born. Or at least given me up for adoption instead of saddling her with the chore of raising an ungrateful little brat. I probably heard that at least once a day growing up with her. The only good thing about her kicking the bucket when I was ten and then having to go into foster care was not having to hear her scream and curse at me all the time. Well, that and - never mind. I told you before I don’t like whiners and I really, really don’t like talking about myself.”
“I’m sorry about all that,” he replied somberly, placing a hand on top of hers and giving it a squeeze. “I know mere words can’t begin to make any of that up to you. Speaking of which, it obviously goes without saying that any of the medical expenses - tests, the actual transplant if it comes to that, travel - would all be covered by the family. Plus, I still need to work out the details with your father, but there would definitely be a sizeable financial perk for you if you agree to this. We certainly wouldn’t expect you to do this for nothing. Besides, you’re more than owed compensation for all the years Neil neglected you.”
Scarlett jerked her hand away, furious at herself that she had actually been enjoying the comfort of his touch. “Compensation?” she screeched, not giving a damn when several other customers turned to look at her. ”Is that what you’d call what a father owes his daughter for twenty-one frigging years of neglect? Like I’m a disgruntled employee or something? And Jesus Christ, leave it to stuck-up rich idiots like you and your family to just expect I’d want - or accept - a dime for helping a family member. Oh, I realize Hannah has no clue I even exist, but she’s my half-sister, for God’s sake! I won’t take my father’s blood money to help her.”
She stood then, her slender frame almost quivering with barely suppressed rage, and grabbed her well worn backpack. “You have my number and email. Send me the details about where and when I should have this cheek swab done. How fast will they get the results?”
“If you could go first thing in the morning, Hannah’s doctor can have a rush put on it and we could know by late afternoon,” said Jackson. “And I’m texting you the address and who to ask for right now. Hey, how about I pick you up and drive you? I’d like to make all of this as easy as possible for you, Scarlett.”
She smirked. “Afraid I’ll have second thoughts, Gilmore? Don’t worry, when I promise to do something I always keep my word. God knows what parent I inherited that trait from, since neither of them - ah, forget it. Gotta get home and study.”
Jackson stood. ”At least let me drive you home.”
Scarlett hesitated, not at all sure she wanted someone as gorgeous and sophisticated as Jackson Gilmore to see the really crappy house she shared with an untold number of roommates. But it had been a really long day, and she had hours of homework and studying to get through tonight so she rather grudgingly acquiesced.
As they made the short walk to his car, Jackson once again brought up the subject of money.
“Look,” he began hesitantly. “I appreciate, even admire, your attitude about not taking money for helping Hannah if you turn out to be a match. But, at the same time, it’s not right that you do all of this for nothing. You should get something for all that you’ve been through.”
Scarlett grinned rather evilly. “Oh, I fully intend to get what I want. It just so happens that what I want isn’t necessarily monetary in nature.”
Chapter Six
Neil looked both ashen and horrified. “She’s demanding what?”
Jackson sighed, feeling more than a little depleted emotionally and physically after the whirlwind of developments in just the past seventy-two hours. Dealing with his brother-in-law’s expected hissy fit was threatening to push him over the edge.
“You heard me, Neil,” he replied tiredly. “Scarlett will agree to the bone marrow donation on the condition that you agree to meet her in person. And before you start claiming you can’t get away right now, we can make all this happen in a matter of a few hours. We catch an early morning flight to Oakland, arrive in just over an hour or so, meet with Scarlett for a couple of hours, and be back in town before dinner. As for an excuse as to why you have to leave town, I’ve got a couple of ideas we can discuss. But we need to move quickly on this. You heard what the doctor told us - every single day counts.”
Hannah’s doctor had been ecstatic when Scarlett’s screening tests - the initial cheek swab that had been swiftly followed with the dreaded blood test - had verified that she was a perfect match. Neil and Jackson had been obliged to take Doctor Parks into their confidence, knowing that he would keep their secret. As expected, the doctor had chided Neil for not having told anyone about Scarlett until now, and reminded him that he could have saved Hannah months of pain and discomfort by speaking up long ago. Neil had looked properly contrite, but it had been obvious to both the doctor and Jackson that he was still largely concerned with keeping Scarlett’s existence a carefully guarded secret and thereby saving his own sorry ass.