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The No. 1 man’s wife

Mrs. Sethna rang Dolly Bordoloi’s doorbell for the usual morning walk, but what she was really hoping was for a glimpse of the guest from Bollywood. He’d arrived last night and Dolly had driven out to IAD to pick him up.

The singer himself opened the door. Mrs. Sethna took in his craggy, pock-marked face, the beard. He looked even better than his promo posters, decided Mrs. Sethna. He was a bonafide star, with brand name recognition. His real name was Anirban, but everyone called him Bourbon.

Bourbon’s arms were stretched outward like a scarecrow and Dolly’s daughter, Amara, was hanging off it, like a large limpet.

“Saroj Sethna,” she said, extending her hand. “Dolly’s friend.”

Bourbon’s grip was firm, and he held Mrs. Sethna’s gaze.

“My neighbor - the ambassador’s wife,” Dolly called from the kitchen.

“Ah, the number one man’s wife.” Bourbon helped Mrs. Sethna up the stairs, stepped aside, and bowed with a flourish. Amara howled with laughter at this, jumped off and bowed as well.


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