Willy, Sushmita, and Birgit all scolded me, urging me to use better judgment in the future. This story sounded dangerous.

“Where’s the film now?” asked Sushmita.

“It’s safe,” I said. “No one knows about it.”

Willy announced I deserved a drink to raise my spirits. I tried to say no, but Jagdish handed me yet another glass of scotch. Then Sushmita suggested we change the subject.

“When were you born?” she asked. “I want to do your horoscope.”

“Oh, I don’t believe in that kind of thing.”

“Come on. It’s fun.”

I shook my head. “What if it’s bad news?”

“I’m not a real astrologer. But if you and I ever want to get married, Danny, you’ll have to submit to a complete astrological investigation.”

Willy and Birgit laughed. Besides being a little drunk, I was more than a little titillated. Willy interrupted.

“Danny Boy, do you know that Birgit and I think you’re a very handsome young man?”

“And quite tall,” said Birgit.

Sushmita concurred and added that I was rather shy and polite, but that was endearing.

Everyone laughed again, and Sushmita placed her hand on my forearm. Everyone laughed except me.

It was after three when I weaved my way toward the door, an arm around Birgit for support. Willy looked fresh despite the heat and humidity, his white bush coat still crisp and dry. How did he manage that? I was rumpled and sweating. Sushmita was as alluring as ever. Her sari slipped off her shoulder for a moment, exposing the blouse underneath. I didn’t know why, but somehow I’d thought she was wearing nothing but the six yards of silk. Our hosts said we must do this again soon. Birgit reminded him that she was leaving Monday.

“When you come back, then,” said Willy.

He leaned in and kissed her on both cheeks, as he had when we’d arrived. I didn’t dare do the same with Sushmita. But she settled the matter herself, first kissing Birgit then me on the cheek.

“You’re a Gemini,” she whispered in my ear. “I can tell.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

SUNDAY, JUNE 29, 1975, 3:31 A.M.

Sheltering under an umbrella, Birgit and I crossed the marg. We made it to the President without running into the police. She didn’t invite me to her room, possibly because she knew I was ready to drop. Or maybe she liked me as a friend. That was fine with me. As attractive as she was, my head was filled with the memory of Sushmita’s touch of my arm and her breath on my neck. And her last words to me at the door.

Yes, I was, indeed, a Gemini, even if I put no stock in astrology. She’d had a one-in-twelve chance of guessing correctly. Not short odds, but not impossible either. Still, she’d been thinking of me, of my birthdate, my sign. I wished Birgit goodnight.