Yahrah John - Red Carpet Redemption

This was an unexpected wrinkle in his plans. “How is that possible? I thought chances were rare I would be a match.” He stared in disbelief.

“It’s difficult to match the needed tissue type between donors and patients, so this is quite a surprise. Seventy percent of all bone marrow donations do come from people unrelated to the recipient, so only 30 percent come from matches with family members able to donate. And when I compared your genetic markers to Jayden’s, there was no doubt—you’re related.”

Dane sat back in his chair. “Pardon me?”

“If I was a betting man…” Dr. Lee began, then paused for several beats. “I would say that you’re Jayden’s father.”

“No,” Dane shook his head and jumped to his feet. “That can’t be. I never met Iris before last month. You’ve got this all wrong, Dr. Lee. There’s no way Jayden could be my kid. You need to run your tests again.” His mind raced to recall a moment he could have met Iris. A drunken encounter he could have forgotten maybe? But no—that wasn’t possible.

Dr. Lee sighed. “Well, that’s why I wanted to bring you in. Quietly, of course.” He looked out the glass partition at Dane’s two bodyguards waiting outside. “I wanted your permission to run a DNA paternity test.”

Dane stopped pacing. “A DNA test?”

“Yes, it will give us irrefutable evidence and set the record straight.”

“That depends. Do I have your word you’ll treat this with absolute discretion? I can’t have this leaking to the press.”

“Understood. And you absolutely have my word I’ll keep this confidential. But in the meantime, I need to know if you’re willing to donate your bone marrow to Jayden. Whether you’re his father or not, you’re a match. I’d like to take a sample of your blood and confirm the human leukocyte antigen match. Once I confirm, you’d meet with a counselor to talk about the procedures, benefits and risks of the donation process. And then you can decide whether you’re comfortable with donating.”

Dane wiped his hands across his face. This was surreal, but he was sure of one thing. “Of course I’ll help. That was never the question. Jayden is a very sick little boy and from what I’ve heard he doesn’t have much time. But I need to know if he’s my son.”

Dr. Lee rose from his seat. “Excellent, Mr. Stewart. Ms. Turner will be so relieved but probably shocked once she hears of the connection.”

“She can’t know,” Dane replied.

Dr. Lee frowned. “What do you mean? I need her permission to run a DNA test.”

“I understand that, but,” Dane pronounced, “under no circumstances am I going to rip that family to shreds and have the press crawling through their lives if this is merely a case of mistaken identity. This has to be kept under wraps until we can run a test.”

“I understand you’re apprehension about the DNA test, but it’s more of a formality for legal purposes. I’m certain the additional blood test you’re required to undergo will further confirm you’re Jayden’s father,” Dr. Lee replied.

“I don’t know. Let me figure this out. What I need from you is discretion. Promise me, Dr. Lee, you will keep this between us until we know more.”

“All right. I’ll keep your genetic connection to myself, but I’d like to give her some hope and at least tell her you’re a match. Let’s reconfirm the match.”

Dane nodded his acquiescence. “I’m here, so let’s do this.”

Two hours later, Dane slid into the back seat of the SUV waiting for him outside a secluded section of the hospital. For once he was grateful to be alone with his thoughts, so he could absorb the bombshell Dr. Lee had dropped on him. Dane had reacted on autopilot throughout the testing, not caring one bit about being poked and prodded. Now that he was done, he was finally free to feel, well, dumbstruck.

Jayden Turner could be his son!

But how? He’d never met Iris until that day a month ago. And since then he’d pushed all thoughts of the slender beauty out of his mind. Until now. One thing was certain: if they’d ever met, Dane was sure he’d remember her.

Then it came to him.

Eight years ago, he’d arrived in Los Angeles to make a fresh start. Considering he’d snubbed working for his father, Dane had been determined to live on his own without any help from his family. However, he’d quickly learned how expensive it was to live in the city and after toiling at two, sometimes three jobs he’d barely made ends meet. A year in, he’d had a particularly rough patch, when he’d blown off work to go on some auditions. Dane knew he’d be discovered. He hadn’t been. Instead, he’d found himself without a job. Desperate to pay the rent, he’d taken the advice of several other starving artists and gone to donate at a sperm clinic. They’d happily accepted him since he fit certain criteria and he’d signed a contract for a few months. He’d never thought it would come to anything, but he had been selected once. And apparently once was all it took.

It was highly possible Iris had used his donation. Jayden could very well be his.

Dane felt like he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t need Jason or Whitney to tell him the fallout over this decision could be massive. They’d finally gained momentum for the movie and now…now he had a son? And a son who was fighting for his life, no less. Dane didn’t even know how to comprehend the barrage of emotions hitting him. Iris had been handling Jayden’s illness all alone for months. Heck, she’d been a mother and father to Jayden. If Dane was truly the father, how would she react to his sudden appearance in their lives?

It was all too much to contemplate. He was so lost in thought that he was stunned when the SUV came to a stop in front of his Hollywood Hills home and his bodyguard Doug opened the door for him. He was already home.

“Thanks, Doug.” He nodded at the three-hundred-pound former college linebacker as he strode inside. He was hoping for some time alone, but instead found his assistant, Morgan, along with Whitney and Jason, lounging around on the couch in the living area.

Morgan was a twenty-four-year-old film school dropout who’d been working for him for over a year. They’d met on the set of one of his films, and she’d begged him to give her a job, any job. At first, Dane had been reluctant. Five feet six with long, silky black hair and hazel eyes, Morgan could have been trouble. But Morgan had never looked at him as anything other than a big brother and typically dressed in gender-neutral clothing. She was a godsend and kept his life on track.

“There you are,” Jason said from his perch. “We were starting to think we were going to have come get you. How’d it go?”

“I need the room,” Dane said, directing a look at Morgan and Whitney, who took the hint and made a speedy exit. He headed for the bar and quickly produced two glasses and a bottle of aged brandy. He poured generously and pushed a glass toward Jason, who’d come to join him at the bar. Even though Jason was his business manager and agent, Dane considered him a friend. For years, Dane had been able to rely on Jason’s advice and he prayed he wouldn’t fail him now.

“What’s going on?” Jason asked, sitting across from Dane who’d remained standing behind the bar. “What did the hospital say?”

Dane stared at the brandy in his hand for a moment and then took a large gulp. It burned on the way down.

“Easy now, Dane. Whatever it is, spit it out and we’ll deal with it.” Jason reached for his brandy and sipped.

“Jayden Turner could be my kid.”

Jason spluttered as brown liquid spilled from his lips. “What did you say?”