“What did you say?” I stomp past Isa back into the room.

Marisol must see it in my face because she sighs and starts speaking rapid-fire Spanish.

Isa comes in and rambles back, the two arguing like they’re in one of the Telemundo shows I’d catch Marisol watching when I was younger. All I ever cared about was when the sex scenes would come on the screen. Yeah, at thirteen there isn’t a lot that won’t give a boy a hard-on. But at this point I’m really wishing I’d paid more attention.

“Stop!” I yell. Quinn comes alongside me, placing her hand on my shoulder. My gaze shoots to her, her tight lips and soft eyes silently asking me to go easy on them.

The two women look over at me, both faces red with anger.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask Marisol and her gaze shoots back over to Isa.

Isa plops down on the couch, bringing her knees to her chest.

I’ve never seen Isa like this. Never witnessed her going off on Marisol. She has respect for her mother whereas I constantly challenge mine.

“Because you’ll try to fix it. There’s nothing to be done. I’ll stay on the transplant list and God will take care of it.”

Isa rolls her eyes.

“But if we can find you a match then you can get a transplant right away, right?”

“Yes.” Isa answers for her mother. I see through her pissy attitude now.

“Have you been tested?” I ask Isa.

She nods.

“Isa! I told you no,” Marisol scolds.

“Are you a match?” We talk over her, not really caring what her stance is on this issue. This is one time Isa and I will be on the same page and overrule whatever it is Marisol wants to do.

She shakes her head and my heart plummets to the ground.

“Okay.” I rub my hands together. “Where can I get tested? Who do I talk to?”

They both look at me like I’m crazy to think we could be a match. “Hello, I’m her son,” I say in a ‘duh’ way, trying to lighten the mood.

Isa rolls her eyes and Marisol pats my hand.

“Seriously, where do I go?” I ask, my voice sterner.

Isa picks up a card and tosses it at me. Pulling out my phone, I dial the number.

“Jag.” Quinn says my name, but nothing is going to stop me from taking care of this and finding her a kidney. I’ll handle it. That’s what I do.

I lean down and kiss Marisol on the cheek. “I’ll be back later.” Grabbing Quinn’s hand, I guide her out of the room, my phone to my ear.

I drag her down the hall. She finally stops following me when we get to the waiting room.

“Jagger!” she says, tugging her hand out of mine.

“Yes, I’ll hold,” I say to the person who just answered on the other end of the phone, then stare at Quinn.

Her face is red. She’s standing there like she doesn’t need to open her mouth to explain to me whatever she’s trying to get me to understand. Like I’m a mind-reader or some shit.

“What?”

“Just stop. Calm down and let’s take this one step at a time.”

A nurse walks by, watching us the entire time she passes.

I step closer. “She needs a kidney. So, I’m going to find her a goddamn kidney.”

She places her hands up in the air. “Fine. Make it for two. I’ll get tested also.”

I bring the phone back to my mouth, my eyes locked with hers. “I need to make an appointment to see if I’m a match for someone.”

Quinn rises to her tiptoes to try to speak into the receiver. “Two appointments, please.”

I shake my head. “One.”

Quinn starts pacing, stops and looks down the hall, beelining directly toward a doctor heading down the hall.

What the fuck is she doing?

The doctor never makes it into the room for Marisol because Quinn is too busy talking and pointing to me at the end of the hall. Of course, Marisol has to have a doctor who looks like he just stepped off the set of Grey’s Anatomy.

“Sir.” The woman comes back on the line. “I can get you an appointment Friday of next week.”

“Not good enough.” I hang up and head down the hall, my footsteps determined.

“Can I help you?” A nurse approaches me, matching my pace.

“No.” I stop short of Quinn.

She’s talking about testing and where to go and what we can do to speed up the process.

“I’m sorry, what’s your relation?” the McSteamy wannabe asks, a smile still on his face because I’m sure he’s imagining her naked.

“Hi, I’m her son.”

Quinn blows out a breath.

“Oh, I’m Dr. Garfield. She didn’t mention a son.”

“Because he’s not her real son. He’s more like a stray she took pity on,” Quinn adds, giving me a sassy smile.

The doctor holds his clipboard down over his crotch and it better not be because he’s covering up a hard-on for my woman.

“Well, you don’t have to be biologically related for you to be a match.” He digs into his front pocket, pulling out another card. “Go down to our transplant center, they’ll handle the testing. As far as anything else, I’m not really at liberty to say unless Marisol includes your name on the forms.”

I stare straight at him and Quinn’s huffing is grating on my nerves. I’m not quite sure how she thinks I should handle this. Sit in a chair and not do anything? Not my style.

I study the card, finding the address to the transplant center. “Thanks.”

The doctor hesitates before giving Quinn the once-over.

“Yeah, she’s mine.” I grab her hand and set us off toward the elevator again.

“Nothing like feeling like a piece of meat,” Quinn spits out. Once we’re in the elevator, she tugs her hand away from me, crossing her arms over her chest.

“He was eye-fucking you.”

“He was nice and considerate and only had Marisol’s health in mind.”

“What he had in mind was getting you naked.” I turn to face her.

An annoyed huff floats out of her mouth and she rolls her eyes.

“Believe me, I’ve done it.”

“You make it sound like men can’t multitask.”

The elevator doors open, and I step out, leaving her jab at the male species alone. I’ve got bigger fish to fry. One things for sure, Quinn was mistaken when she said she’d get tested. The woman I love like a mother is already at risk. No way I’m letting the only other one to hold my heart put herself in the same position.

* * *

Two hours later, Quinn is dropped off and I’m sitting at my desk flipping through the book Greg handed out at our meeting.

My cell rings and I glance down, seeing Leo’s name.

“What’s up?”

“Whoa, who pissed in your cornflakes?” Leo asks, his chipper self annoying the shit out of me.

“Marisol has kidney failure.” Saying the words out loud makes me feel nauseated.

There’s silence for a beat and then, “Oh, man, what can I do?”

“Give her a kidney.”

He laughs but shuts his lips. “Give her a kidney?”

“You’re a healthy male.” I toss the book on my desk.

“Well…”

“What do you want?” I ask. Clearly, he’s too chicken shit.

“We’re setting up a couples’ get-together and figured maybe you and Quinn would want to join?”

“Is this some sort of bullshit where we each bring something for a stupid potluck and play board games?” I’m with Quinn, but if I’m going to share her for a night it’s not going be playing Scrabble.

“No, Layla got us reservations at the Chops. It’s the hot, new…”

“Yeah, I know what it is. She’s got some good connections. We’re in.”

“Okay, I’ll let them know. Next Saturday at nine.”

“Perfect.”

“All right, I’ll let you go. I’m really sorry, Jag, I hope this turns out for the best.”

“Oh, I’ll make sure of it.”

“If anyone can, it’s you.”

“See you at softball practice.” I click the phone off, my mind everywhere but where it should be—work.

Victoria walks in, a bunch of files in her hands. “Hey, boss man, I have to cut out early today.”

“Sure.” I take the files from her hands and sit up straighter in my desk to look over the budget for one of my clients’ new films. They’re lowballing him and I can’t let the studio get away with it.

“Really?” She doesn’t move from her position at the corner of my desk.

“Yes, go.” I shoo her away with my hand.

“Man, I’m liking this new Jagger.” She creeps backwards as though she’s afraid I’m going to stop her.

“Hey.”

She snaps her fingers. “I knew it was too good to be true.”

“Have you ever thought of donating a kidney?” I look up, leaning back in my chair.

“Um… are you dying? Is that why you’re being so nice?”

I stare blankly, and she shrugs.

“Would you donate a kidney to someone you don’t know?”

Her forehead wrinkles. “Why are you asking me this?”

I knot my fingers together in front of me. “Because I just want to know. I mean millions of people need a transplant and only so many people get one. Can you believe some people don’t even donate after death? I mean, get your shit together and save a life.”

She holds her hand up and in all honesty, she should stop me. I might just be going crazy with the amount of research I’ve done in the past hour on kidney transplants and organ donation. The only decision I’m firm on is that Quinn will not be donating hers—on the off chance that she is a match.

“Never mind.” I dig out the stash of cards I took from the transplant office and place them at the edge of my desk. “Put those in the break room on your way out?”

She grabs the cards tentatively, reads them over and then plops down in the chair in front of me. “Seriously, are you dying? Is it your liver? I never thought you drank that much.”

I raise my eyebrows. “You never even see me socially.”

“You come in hungover a lot, so I figure you party hard, plus all the tabloid pictures.”

She’s carrying on like she’s already convinced herself she’ll be unemployed once I kick the bucket.

“I’m not dying. It’s my housekeeper…err, nanny. It’s Marisol.”

Her face falls, although she has no idea who she is. “I’m sorry.” For the first time there’s no snarky back-and-forth jabs between us.

“Thanks, but she’ll be fine. I just need to find her a kidney.”

She stands from the seated position. “You could always go that urban myth way.”

I tilt my head.

“You know, drug someone at a bar, take them upstairs and steal their kidney. They wake up in the tub of ice with a missing organ.”

“People do that?”

“You’ve never heard of that? Supposedly people would sell the kidneys on the black market…” She’s waiting for me to have some sort of recognition.

“Intriguing…”

“Jagger,” she sighs, as if I’d really consider it.

Whatever.

“Please, sick bastards.” I shake my head, disgusted that people can be so greedy and vicious. “I’ll be watching my drinks more closely at bars now.”

“Look, I just saved you from losing your kidney.” She points out, a proud smile on her face.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

She nods. “Thanks again for letting me go. See you Monday.”

Victoria packs up her stuff and heads out while I hop online some more, searching Google for the words ‘black market’ and ‘kidney.’ After a few minutes I slam my laptop closed, more afraid than I’m willing to admit that this might be the one time I can’t control the outcome.