“I don’t have it on me. Achoo!”
“You came to a coffee shop with an allergy to cinnamon and forgot your EpiPen? That’s great.”
He remembered.
“Open up,” he snapped.
“What?”
He held her head in his palms. “Open your damn mouth, Kareena.”
There was something in his tone that had her snapping to attention. Prem used his cell-phone light to check her throat.
Seconds later, he was pulling her to her feet. “Come on. Where is your car?”
“I don’t have one here,” she said. Achoo!
Kareena barely had a second to grab her bag before she was pulled across the café and through the front door. She registered Dave’s shocked expression as Prem dragged her to his pretentious Audi A7 toward the back of the lot. He shoved her in the passenger seat, ran around the front, and got behind the wheel.
“I need you to tell me if you start to have a hard time breathing. We don’t want anaphylaxis.”
“What will you do, celebrate? Achoo! God, I’m so itchy. I told him I didn’t want cinnamon!”
“He didn’t seem like the kind of guy who cared,” Prem said as he sped out of the parking lot. “Any allergies to latex or other medication?”
“No.”
“I think I remember you saying that the last time you had an episode was years ago.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Wow, we talked about a lot that night.”
The harsh lines around his mouth softened. “Symptoms? Tongue swelling? Throat swelling?”
“Throat feels like it’s itching but that could be panic,” she said. Please, for the love of god, don’t pass out in front of Dr. D.
“Deep breaths. Do you have your insurance card on you?”
“Yeah,” Kareena said. Her throat was starting to feel a little itchy. She gripped the seat belt she’d struggled to put on. Who would’ve thought that she’d be speeding through Edison toward the hospital with Prem Verma?
The itchiness was insane. She hated every moment of it. Curse cinnamon!
“You need to always carry your EpiPen with you,” he said. “Especially if you’re going to a café. What if the barista was the one who made a mistake? And I don’t understand why you don’t have a car. You should always have a ride when you’re going on dates. It’s about safety.”
“Achoo! It was a cinnamon concentrate. A syrup. And I’m still restoring my car. The one I told you about. Achoo!”
“The BMW 1988 E30, right? Did I tell you that my father was all about the BMWs when he immigrated to the U.S.?”
“You did. Achoo! First sign of success, I guess.” She wheezed. Her eyes began to tear, and her chest tightened. She wheezed.
“In through your nose,” he said softly. “A panic episode isn’t going to help you. We’re almost there.”
He twisted a few dials on his dashboard and the sound of a phone ringing poured out of the car speakers. “RWJ.”
“This is Dr. Prem Verma from Jersey City Cardiology Center.” He rattled off a few numbers. “I’m bringing in a patient through the ER entrance. She was at a café. Allergic reaction to cinnamon. In danger of anaphylaxis.”
When he hung up, Kareena brushed a tear off her cheek. Her skin was on fire now. “Don’t text my family.”
His head jerked in her direction. “What? Why not?”
“They’ll make this whole thing worse for me,” she gasped.
His small sporty car jumped the curb as he took a sharp turn into the RWJ campus entrance. He barely slowed down enough to drive over the speed bumps and came to a screeching halt in front of the ER doors.
Kareena was helped out of the car a second later. Everything went hazy, but when she felt Prem’s hand on hers, she had one clear moment where their eyes locked.
“I got you,” he said. “I’m here.”
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Indians Abroad News Dear Readers, If your children have found their chosen matches, they must not only declare their intentions to each other first, they must also share their declaration with you, their guardians, as soon as possible. The poorest service is paid in a thank-you, and that will not cover the cost of your wedding venue.
Mrs. W. S. Gupta Columnist Avon, NJ
Chapter Eight
Prem
When Bindu texted Prem to let him know that Kareena was going out on a date, Prem spent a long time thinking about whether or not partnering with her would actually solve the problem at hand. But after a week of getting zero responses from other investors and fielding negative publicity, he knew that he had to at least try to talk to Kareena again. Showing up at her date probably wasn’t the smartest way to get time alone with her, but then again, if he hadn’t been there, she would’ve definitely gone into anaphylaxis.