The Crazy Rich Asians Trilogy

Carol, who was much more interested in the fake Hermès Kelly bags, smiled at them from across the room but carried on shopping, while Nadine made a beeline for the ladies. Jacqueline glanced at the woman coming toward her, taken aback by the sheer volume of makeup she was wearing. Oh my God, this was that awful Shaw woman whose pictures were always in the society pages, preening away with her equally vulgar daughter. And Carol Tai was the wife of that scoundrel billionaire. Of course Eleanor w

ould be hanging around with this crowd.

“Jacqueline, so nice to meet you,” Nadine said effusively, extending her hand.

“Well, I must be off,” Jacqueline said to Eleanor, not making eye contact with Nadine and stepping toward the exit nimbly before the woman could claim a proper introduction.

When Jacqueline had left the room, Nadine began to gush. “You never told me you knew Jacqueline Ling! Wow, she still looks stunning! How old must she be by now? Do you think she had a face-lift?”

“Alamak, don’t ask me such things, Nadine! How would I know?” Eleanor said, feeling irritated.

“You seemed to know her quite well.”

“I’ve known Jacqueline for years. I even made a trip to Hong Kong with her a long time ago, where she couldn’t stop making a spectacle of herself, and all these idiotic men kept following us everywhere, proclaiming their love for her. It was a nightmare.”

Nadine wanted to keep talking about Jacqueline, but Eleanor’s mind was already elsewhere. So Amanda had changed her mind and was coming home for Colin’s wedding after all. How very interesting. As much as she detested Jacqueline, she had to admit that Amanda would be a superb match for Nicky. The stars were beginning to align, and she could hardly wait for whatever lay in store with Lorena’s secret informer tonight.

* * *

* What was formerly a sleepy fishing village on the Guangdong coast is now a metropolis crammed with tragically gaudy skyscrapers, gargantuan shopping malls, and rampant pollution—in other words, Asia’s version of Tijuana. Shenzhen has become a favorite cheap getaway for its richer neighbors. Tourists from Singapore and Hong Kong, in particular, enjoy the thrill of feasting on gourmet delicacies like abalone and shark-fin soup, shopping until midnight at bargain-basement emporiums filled with fake designer goods, or indulging in hedonistic spa treatments—all at a fraction of what they would have to pay back home.

† Malay slang for “contact.”

‡ Cantonese for “so expensive I could die.”

§ Yes, the Khoos and the Lings are related by marriage as well.

8

Rachel

SINGAPORE

The first hint that Araminta’s bachelorette party was going to be no ordinary affair occurred when Rachel’s taxi dropped her off at the Jet Quay CIP Terminal, which served the private-jet crowd. The second hint came when Rachel walked into the sleek lounge and came face-to-face with twenty girls who looked as if they had spent the last four hours in hair and makeup. Rachel thought that her outfit—a seafoam blue tunic top paired with a white denim skirt—was rather cute, but now it seemed a little shabby compared to the girls in their fresh-off-the-catwalk ensembles. Araminta was nowhere to be seen, so Rachel just stood around smiling at everyone as snippets of conversation drifted her way.

“I searched the world for that handbag, and even L’Eclaireur in Paris couldn’t get it for me …”

“It’s a three-bedroom in that old complex on Thompson Road. I have a gut feeling it’s going to go en bloc and I’ll triple my money …”

“OMG, I found the best new place for chili crab, you won’t believe where …”

“I like the Lanesborough’s suites more than Claridge’s, but really, the Calthorpe is where you want to be …”

“Nonsense, lah! No Signboard Seafood still has the best chili crab …”

“This isn’t cashmere, you know. It’s baby vicuña …”

“Did you hear Swee Lin sold her Four Seasons flat for seven-point-five mil? A young Mainland Chinese couple, paid in cash …”

Yep, this was definitely not her crowd. Suddenly an overly tan girl with fake blond hair extensions came into the lounge, shouting, “Araminta just pulled up!” The room got quiet as everyone craned their necks toward the sliding glass door. Rachel hardly recognized the girl who entered. In place of the schoolgirl in pajama pants of a few nights ago was a woman in a matte-gold jumpsuit with gold stiletto boots, her wavy dark brown hair piled into a loose beehive. With a light dusting of expertly applied makeup, her girlish features were transformed into that of a supermodel. “Rachel, I’m so glad you made it!” Araminta said excitedly, giving her a big hug. “Come with me,” she said, taking Rachel by the hand and leading her to the center of the room.

“Hello, everyone! First things first—I want to introduce all of you to my fabulous new friend Rachel Chu. She’s visiting from New York, as the guest of Colin’s best man, Nicholas Young. Please give her a very warm welcome.” All eyes were on Rachel, who flushed a little and could do nothing but smile politely at the assembled crowd that was now dissecting every inch of her. Araminta continued. “You are all my dearest friends, so I wanted to give you a special treat.” She paused for effect. “Today we’re heading to my mum’s private island resort in eastern Indonesia!” There were gasps of astonishment from the crowd. “We’re going to dance on the beach tonight, feast on delish low-calorie cuisine, and pamper ourselves silly with spa treatments all weekend! Come on, girls, let’s get this party started!”

Before Rachel could fully process what Araminta had said, they were ushered on board a customized Boeing 737-700, where she found herself in a dramatically chic space with streamlined white saddle-stitched leather sofas and glistening shagreen console tables.

“Araminta, this is just too much! Is this your dad’s new plane?” one of the girls asked incredulously.

“Actually it’s my mum’s. Bought from some oligarch in Moscow who needed to lower his profile and go into hiding, from what I hear.”