Playing Dirty (Stargazer #2)(67)
Author: Jennifer Echols

“What gives you the kind of allergic reaction I had to bees?”

“Most nuts,” he said. “I’m allergic to a lot of foods, but nuts are the one that’s hardest to avoid.”

“Yeah, I imagine it’s hard to avoid nuts,” Sarah commented provocatively, “you being a man and all.”

Quentin sighed the longest sigh. “Are you making a nut joke? Don’t even start with me. I’ve had allergies since I was born. I had allergies in middle school. I’ve heard all the nut jokes. I made up all the nut jokes so I could tell them before someone else told them.”

“Is that why you never eat out? Because of your food allergies?”

“I never eat out because I’m a great cook.”

“And so humble,” she teased him.

“Have you tried my aloo gobi?”

She smiled. “Do you mean that in the carnal sense?”

“No, it’s vegetarian.” He laughed. “Seriously, you’re right. I never eat out because cooking meals myself is the only way I can be sure they won’t kill me.” He inhaled the city deeply through his nose. “And then there’s the asthma. I have to exercise carefully.”

“Thus you flaked out on me in the lake.”

“I didn’t flake out, see,” he protested. “I knew I would flake out. When I was a kid, I didn’t know my limits. Or I didn’t want to know them. I went out for high school football with Owen one year. That was interesting.”

He waved to a group of Japanese tourists on the sidewalk, and several of them waved back. Sarah turned around and watched through the back window as they gestured excitedly to each other, realizing who Quentin was, and started chasing the car. She was about to give the driver a twenty to lose them when a hole opened in traffic and he sped ahead.

“Other things trigger my asthma, too,” Quentin went on. “Cigarette smoke is the main one. And once you’re triggered, getting upset can make asthma worse, but that’s only happened to me twice, thank God. The second time was yesterday, when you threatened to shiv me.”

“Again, I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. It actually wasn’t as bad as the first time. I was mortified.”

“You, mortified?”

“It does happen.”

“Let me guess,” she said. “Was it when Vonnie Conner turned you down?”

“If I’d had an asthma attack because Vonnie Conner turned me down, I would never have shown my face at high school again,” he said. “No, it was at my granddad’s funeral.”

“Oh.” She covered her lips with two fingers and said through them, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. The whole spectacle is pretty funny in retrospect.”

She cut her eyes sideways at him, unable to imagine what was so funny about having an asthma attack at his grandfather’s funeral. “This was pretty recently, right?”

“A little over two years ago,” he confirmed, “right before we signed with the record company. I was a pallbearer, which was somebody else’s mistake, because I was pretty devastated when he died . . . ”

As he trailed off, she nodded sympathetically. She knew how he’d felt.

“After we got our shoulders under the casket, the closer we got to the church, the more upset I got. I guess I could pretend it wasn’t happening before that, and I was at just another family reunion, but this was final.

“Well, somebody was smoking outside the church, and as we were crossing the threshold, I got a lungful. I couldn’t reach for my inhaler in my pocket because, hello, I was carrying a casket. Normally I could have made it all the way down the aisle without it, but I was so upset already. On top of that, I was terrified of passing out in front of all those people. A lot of them were friends of my granddad’s from Nashville, country music insiders. None of them could have gotten the Cheatin’ Hearts a contract, but I didn’t know that at the time. I was as tense as I’ve ever been, and that’s when I”—he clapped his hands, one on top of the other—“hit the aisle.”

“Oh!” Sarah gasped.

“And then the casket”—he clapped his hands again—“hit the aisle, tumbled end over end, and landed upside down.”

“Oh my God!” Sarah squealed. “Why couldn’t the other five guys hold it up?”

“That’s what I said at the emergency room later!” Quentin exclaimed. “They’re all like, ‘Give a dude a nudge when you’re about to faint like a girl, Q,’ and I’m like, ‘There are six pallbearers. I was holding up the whole thing myself? You can’t hold it up yourselves if a guy has to pass out? Jesus.’ ” He paused. “My granddad would have loved it, though.”

“No!” Sarah covered her mouth again to hold her laughter in.

“Oh yes. The casket was closed, and they did not open it after that to see what had happened to him. But he would have said, ‘You should have left it open, and I would have gone flying! That’s showmanship.’ ” As Sarah fought to stop giggling, Quentin reached across the car and poked her gently in the ribs. “All this can be yours now that you know you have allergies, too. You’re just joining the club. Did they tell you in the emergency room that you need venom therapy?”

“Something sinister like that was mentioned, yes.”

“It’s not bad,” he said. “They just give you a shot with a tiny bit of bee venom every few weeks, and increase the dose a little each time. Before long, you’re not allergic to bees anymore. That is, not fatally allergic. That is, if you don’t have an adverse reaction—”

“That is, spare me,” she said. “I saw your adrenaline shot with your asthma inhaler in my bag. So I’m covered for now. I’ll just stay out of Central Park.”

She stole another look at him, so handsome and relaxed, friendly green eyes taking everything in. She asked him, “Do you ever think about upping the profile of the foundation? Coming out of the asthma and allergy closet, so to speak? You could do a lot of good. Celebrities are always raising awareness by admitting that they have medical conditions.”

“I’ve been admitting it from the start,” he said. “All I got for my trouble was rumors about a cocaine addiction. And a multimillion-dollar recording contract.” He chuckled. “I’m not ruling it out, but I’m not too sure how it would go over at this point. You’re the PR expert. Picture this.” He struck a pose as if speaking into a camera. “Hi, I’m Quentin Cox of the Cheatin’ Hearts. You may know me for hit songs like ‘I Want a Leia’ and ‘Honky-tonk Hell.’ What you may not know is that shellfish gives me hives.” He laughed again. “Maybe after the sixth album.”