The Crazy Rich Asians Trilogy

“Well, if you really have foot problems, you shouldn’t be going to Toronto—you should go to Paris.”

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“Paris, France?” Mrs. Bing said dubiously as she continued to eat her congee.

“Yes, don’t you know the best foot doctors in the world are in Paris? They have to deal with all those women killing their feet trying to walk on cobblestone streets in their Roger Viviers. We want to go to Paris tonight. You should come with us and I’ll get you to the top specialist there.”

Mrs. Bing stared at her daughter with a mixture of shock and delight. This was the first time Colette had taken an interest in any of her ailments. “Can Nainai*5 and Auntie Pan Di come too? She’s always wanted to visit Paris, and Nainai needs to do something about her bunions.”

“Of course. We have plenty of room! Invite anyone you want.”

Mrs. Bing gave Stephanie a thoughtful look. “Why don’t you invite your mother too? I know she’s been so sad ever since your brother got kicked out of Yale.”

“What a fantastic idea, Mrs. Bing! I’m sure she’d love to come along, especially if you’re going,” Stephanie replied.

Colette turned to Roxanne as soon as her mother had left the room. “You need to google ‘foot doctor Paris.’?”

“Already done,” Roxanne replied. “And Trenta can be fully staffed and ready in three hours.”

Colette turned to her friends. “Why don’t we all meet at Hongqiao Airport at midnight?”

“Everybody get out your Goyards! We’re going to Paris!” Perrineum cheered.

* * *

*1 St. Germain elderflower liqueur, gin, and white Lillet mixed with grapefruit juice create this classic effervescent aperitif. Chin-chin!

*2 A Mandarin term for the children of top government officials.

*3 Mandarin for “bullshit!”

*4 A Mandarin term that means “second generation of the rich.” Generally a derogatory term for the sons and daughters of the Chinese nouveaux riches who profited from the early years of China’s reform-era boom.

*5 Mandarin for “Grandmother.”

14

TRENTA

SHANGHAI TO PARIS ON THE BINGS’ PRIVATE JET*1

The security guard at the Hongqiao International Airport Private Aviation entrance handed Carlton, Rachel, and Nick their passports and waved them through. As Carlton’s SUV approached a Gulfstream VI surrounded by arriving cars, Rachel commented, “I have a bit of a phobia of private jets, but I gotta admit, Colette’s got a beautiful plane.”

“That’s a nice plane, but it’s not Colette’s. That one is,” Carlton said, steering the car to the right. Parked in the distance on the tarmac was an alpine white Boeing 747 jumbo jet with one undulating scarlet stripe painted along its fuselage like a giant calligraphy brushstroke. “This Boeing 747-81 VIP was a fortieth-birthday present for Colette’s mother.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Rachel said, staring at the humongous plane glistening under floodlights.

Nick chuckled. “Rachel, I don’t know how you can still be surprised. Bigger is always better for the Bings, isn’t it?”

“They spend so much time crisscrossing the globe, it makes sense for them. And especially for businessmen like Jack Bing, time is money. With the long delays at the airports in Shanghai and Beijing these days, it’s an advantage to have your own plane—you can just pay to jump the runway queue,” Carlton explained.

“Isn’t that precisely what’s causing the flight delays at Chinese airports? All the private jets getting to skip ahead of commercial airliners?” Nick asked.

“No comment,” Carlton said with a wink as he pulled up to the red carpet that extended from the airplane’s staircase onto the tarmac. The ground crew immediately bustled around the car, opening doors and removing the luggage while Carlton handed off his car to the valet. Along the length of the carpet, fifteen flight crew members stood at attention like troops ready for inspection, attired in the same crisp black James Perse uniforms seen at Colette’s house.

“I feel like Michelle Obama about to board Air Force One,” Rachel whispered to Nick as they walked along the plush red carpet.

Overhearing them, Carlton quipped, “Wait till you get on board. This plane makes Air Force One look like a sardine tin.”