It was very funny to Van that Tony Carew, the poster boy for jet-setters, had finally found the one woman in the whole round world who could lead him around by the nose. An Indian movie star, of all the wild things. It was so like him. Van had been plenty curious about the girl, so he had found one of the actress’s Hindi-language movies on an Indian-made DVD. Tony’s sex-bomb girlfriend turned out to be this sugary, Technicolor hoochie-coochie girl who didn’t even kiss her co-stars. The whole ridiculous thing gave Van a warm, bubbly, glowing feeling. Poor Tony, poor old Tony, that lucky slob.