The Crazy Rich Asians Trilogy

“How can I? There’s no way I can run off to Hong Kong on my own to check up on him. You know how it is—no matter where I stay, someone is bound to recognize me, and there will be talk,” Astrid said, rather resigned to her fate.

“Well, why don’t we find out?”

“What do you mean ‘we’?”

“I mean, I’m going to call my pilot right now to get the plane fueled up, and we can be in Hong Kong in three hours. Let me help you. You can stay with me, and no one will know you’re in Hong Kong. It’s unfortunate, but after my brother’s kidnapping eight years ago, I have access to the best private investigators in the city. Let’s get to the bottom of this,” Charlie said eagerly.

“Oh Charlie, I can’t just leave in the middle of all this.”

“Why the hell not? I don’t see you out there shaking your ass in that conga line.”

Colin and Nick were standing by one of the alcoves, watching Peter Lee spin his daughter around the dance floor. “I can’t quite believe I got married to that girl today, Nicky. This whole day has been a complete fucking blur.” Colin sighed wearily.

“Yeah, it’s been quite surreal,” Nick admitted.

“Well, I’m glad you’ve been with me on this ride,” Colin said. “I know I haven’t been easy on you the last few days.”

“Hey, what are friends for?” Nick said cheerily, putting his arm around Colin. He was not about to let Colin get maudlin on his wedding night.

“I’m going to do you the favor of not asking you when your turn’s going to be, although I must say Rachel looks smashing tonight,” Colin said, staring at her being whirled around by Mehmet.

“Doesn’t she?” Nick grinned.

“I’d cut in on them if I were you. You know how lethal our Turkish friend can be, especially since he knows how to tango better than an Argentinean polo player,” Colin warned.

“Oh, Mehmet already confessed to me that he thinks Rachel has the sexiest legs on the planet.” Nick laughed. “You know how they say weddings are infectious. I think I really caught the bug today, watching you and Araminta during the ceremony.”

“Does this mean what I think it does?” Colin asked, perking up.

“I think so, Colin. I think I’m finally ready to ask Rachel to marry me.”

“Well hurry up, lah!” Colin exclaimed, clapping Nick on the back. “Araminta already told me she intends to get pregnant on our honeymoon, so you need to catch up. I’m counting on your kid to check my kid into rehab!”

It was almost midnight, and while the older guests were perched comfortably on terraces overlooking the promenade, sipping their Rémy Martins or lapsang souchongs, Rachel was sitting with the few remaining girls in the banquet hall, catching up with Sophie Khoo. Laure

n Lee and Mandy Ling were chatting several chairs away when Francesca sauntered up to the table.

“Wasn’t that dinner a disappointment? That Edible Bird’s Nest Semifreddo at the end—why would you ever puree bird’s nest? Bird’s nest is all about the texture, and that idiot chef transforms it into a half-frozen muck,” Francesca complained. “We should all go for supper after the fireworks.”

“Why don’t we just go now?” Lauren suggested.

“No, we have to stay for the fireworks! Araminta told me in secret that Cai Guo-Qiang designed a pyrotechnics show even more spectacular than the one he did for the Beijing Olympics. But we’ll take the first ferry the minute the show is over. Now, where should we go?”

“I don’t know Singapore well at all anymore. If I was in Sydney right now, I’d be heading to BBQ King for a late-night snack,” Sophie said.

“Oooh! BBQ King! I love that place! I think they have the best siew ngarp in the world!” Lauren declared.

“Aiyah, BBQ King is such a grease pit. Everyone knows that Four Seasons in London has the best roast duck in the world!” Mandy countered.

“I’m with Lauren, I think BBQ wins hands down,” Francesca said.

“No, I find their roast duck too fatty. The duck at Four Seasons is perfect, because they raise the ducks on their own special organic farm. Nico would agree with me—we used to go there all the time,” Mandy added with a flourish.

“Why do you call Nick ‘Nico’?” Rachel turned to Mandy, the curiosity finally getting the better of her.

“Oh, when we were just teenagers, we spent one summer together on Capri. His auntie Catherine, the Thai one, took a villa there. We would follow the sun all day—start out sunbathing at the beach club by the Faraglioni rocks in the mornings, go swimming in Grotta Verde after lunch, and end up at Il Faro beach for sunset. We got so brown, and Nicky’s hair got so long—he looked practically Italian! That’s when the Italian kids we made friends with started calling him Nico and I was his Mandi. Oooh, it was such a glorious time.”

“Sounds like it,” Rachel said lightly, ignoring Mandy’s blatant attempt to make her jealous by resuming her conversation with Sophie.