The Crazy Rich Asians Trilogy

Philip took a sip of his coffee and winced. “All right then, I’m heading back to Sydney tonight—I can’t stand another day without a proper flat white. I’ll be back in six months and we can officially put the house on the market.”

Just then, Ah Ling entered the dining room with an announcement: “Something just arrived that I think you all should see.”

Two Gurkha guards wheeled a large flatbed dolly into the room. Piled on it was a mountain of colorful ribboned boxes, all from Ladurée in Paris. There were boxes upon boxes of chocolates and truffles, macaroons and cakes—all manner of delicious confections from the legendary dessert maker. Crowning this elaborate display was a croquembouche, with a large embossed gold card affixed to the front. Ah Ling took the card and handed it to Philip. He tore it open and began to laugh.

“What is it?” Eleanor asked excitedly.

Philip read the card aloud. “Bright Star Properties wishes the Young family prosperity and good tidings in the coming Year of the Goat. May we respectfully extend an all-cash tender offer of $1.88 billion for the purchase of Tyersall Park.”

Felicity gasped, while Alix turned to Victoria with a smirk. “I don’t think we have to worry about looking like greedy pigs.”

* * *

*1 Chinese sausage.

*2 Steamed glutinous rice with chicken in a lotus leaf wrap, my dim sum favorite.

*3 Harry Leong has obviously never set foot in a Housing and Development Board flat in his entire life, but like so many oblivious one-percenters is always fantasizing about downsizing and moving in to an HDB flat “since I am entitled to one.”

CHAPTER TEN

28 CLUNY PARK ROAD, SINGAPORE

Kitty was floating on an inflatable lounger in the middle of her pool in an alluring one-shoulder cutout Araks swimsuit when she heard the car returning to the house. She had been waiting impatiently for the past hour, after sending a maid to the bookstore to buy a whole stack of the new issue of Tattle, which had just been released this morning.

Kitty paddled her lounger over to the edge of the pool as the maid came rushing down the stone steps with a stack of magazines in her arms, followed by the driver, who was also carrying a big stack. “What took you so long?” Kitty asked.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. We got there before the bookstore opened, but they had to unpack the magazines from the boxes and scan them into the computer first. But here, we bought all forty copies,” she said, handing Kitty the top copy from her stack.

It was wrapped in plastic, with a big gold panel over the cover and words that screamed: “OUR WILDEST ISSUE EVER!” Kitty felt her heart race as she tried to tear into the plastic, desperate to get to the magazine. She couldn’t wait to see her photo on the cover under the headline “Princess Kitty.” The lounger wobbled, and her wet fingers kept slipping against the plastic.

“Here, let me help you!” the maid said, sensing her mistress’s excitement. She ripped through the plastic, slipped the glossy magazine out of its sleeve, and handed it to Kitty.

Kitty stared at the cover, her face changing from anticipation to absolute horror. Staring back at her on the cover of Tattle was a photograph of Colette and her husband, Lucien, seated at a breakfast table with a huge orangutan.

“Aaaahhh! What is this? This is the wrong issue!” Kitty screamed from her reclining position.

“No ma’am, this is the new issue. Brand-new. I saw them take it out of the boxes.”

Kitty scrutinized the cover, where the headline read: LORDS OF THE JUNGLE: THE EARL AND COUNTESS OF PALLISER.

“No! No! No! This can’t be real,” Kitty sat up on the lounger, tearing through the magazine maniacally and getting the pages wet as she searched for her story. What happened to her beautiful photo shoot with Nigel Barker? The photos of Harvard kissing her? They were nowhere to be found. Instead, the feature article was a ten-page spread dedicated to pictures of Colette and Lucien’s visit to a conservation center in Indonesia. There were photos of Colette hosting a tea party for a family of orangutans at a wrought-iron table by the edge of a river, Colette trekking through the rain forest with a group of primatologists, and Colette cradling a baby orangutan.

By this point, Kitty’s lounger had drifted to the middle of the pool, and she screeched at the maid, “Get me my phone!”

Kitty jabbed at her phone angrily, calling Oliver T’sien. It rang a few times before he picked up.

“Ollie’s Psychic Hotline,” he answered jokingly.

“Have you seen the latest Tattle yet?” Kitty said, her voice shaking with fury.

“No. Did it come out today? I’m in Hong Kong this week, so I haven’t seen it yet. Congratulations! How does it look?”

“Congratulations? Go look at the magazine and tell me how I fucking look on the cover!” Kitty screamed, before hanging up.

God, what now? Oliver thought to himself. Did they end up going with a photo that was slightly less flattering to her surgically sculpted nose? There was no way he would find a copy of the magazine in Hong Kong, but maybe the issue was already online. He went to his browser and logged on to Tattle.com.sg. Within seconds, the page loaded, and the cover of Tattle popped up.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Oliver cursed, as he began to scan through the story.