When the Stars Come Out by Rob Byrnes

Author:Rob Byrnes [Byrnes, Rob]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

had a pretty damn good life out here in Southampton and he knew

it. When it came to penning his autobiography, he held all the

cards.

“Okay,” Noah finally said, feeling a vague sense of frustration. “I think I can work with those rules. But . . . can we try to be a bit creative with them?”

Quinn frowned. “What do you mean?”

“What if we use the names of actors who are already publicly gay.

Or dead. That wouldn’t do any harm, right? I mean, it would be

silly to protect Rock Hudson’s sexuality at this point, right? The guy has been dead for twenty years.”

Quinn thought about that. “I suppose . . .”

“And if you don’t want me to use Jimmy’s name, we can use a

pseudonym. ‘Johnny,’ or something like that.”

“Excuse me?” said the voice from the chaise, and the straw hat

bobbed. “I am not a Johnny.”

“Quinn asked me to protect your privacy.”

“I told him to protect your privacy,” Quinn asserted.

Jimmy’s profile appeared at the edge of the chaise. “Oh, in that

case . . . why not, Quinn? Why not? I gave up an acting career for you—”

“A dancing career.”

“Which was going to grow into an acting career.” Jimmy paused.

“I would have had an acting career in time. I had a plan.” He paused again. “Anyway, I gave up a career for you, so why shouldn’t I totally disappear from history? In fact, when I die—which hopefully will

be sooner rather than later, thank you very much—I hope you’ll

give me an unmarked grave. No, wait . . . take my body out to sea and dump it. Or, better yet, use it for chum. Get one last use out of me, then make sure that all evidence of my existence completely

vanishes.”

“Drama queen,” muttered Quinn. “Sixty-two years of drama.

Probably sixty-two years and nine months, because you were proba-

bly a fucking drama queen in your mother’s womb.” To Noah, he

said, “Let me think about it. Maybe.”

“I want to be in the book,” said the chaise.

“Okay. Noah, you can use that asshole’s name. Just make sure

you describe him as old, fat, and out of shape.”

“I obviously heard that.”

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R o b B y r n e s

“And bald.”

“I obviously heard that, too.”

Quinn pivoted slightly in his chair, straining to get a better view of his all-but-hidden lover. “As long as we all know you can hear me, I hope you can hear me when I tell you to put that martini down.”

“You can come take it away from me. If your hip can make it

across the patio, that is.”

“Dr. Marcus says it will kill you.”

“Screw Dr. Marcus. If you truly loved me, you’d let me enjoy my-

self while I still can, instead of forcing me to live a joyless existence for the next decade until I’m as old as you got to be, and I’m drool-ing and incontinent and convinced you’re Napoleon.”

A smile crossed Quinn’s lips. Not the malevolent smile he had

shown Noah a few minutes earlier, but a smile that showed he en-

joyed the banter. Still, he made it disappear almost as soon as it had appeared.

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