The Crazy Rich Asians Trilogy

“Sorry, I was inside, and it’s very loud in there,” Jonny apologized. “Mrs. Wu decided to have the party just this afternoon. It’s a benefit for the earthquake victims in Yunnan Province.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Charlie muttered as he entered the house. There were at least fifty people crowded in the foyer, and a man suddenly grabbed him from behind and gave him a full-on bear hug. “Charlie! You’re here!” It was Pascal Pang, his face inexplicably powdered white, with rouge on his cheeks. “I was just telling Tilda that I’ve never seen such a pleasant divorce as you and Isabel had. Look, he even comes to her parties! My ex-wives won’t even take my calls, hahaha.”

Charlie was bewildered as a pale, thin woman with uniquely androgynous features dressed in a silver jumpsuit smiled at him sweetly. “So you’re Charlie! Astrid’s told me so much about you,” she said in a lilting British accent.

“Has she? Excuse me, I just need to find someone.” Charlie squeezed through the crowded foyer and into the sprawling formal room, which had been utterly transformed into a dark, funereal space. All of Isabel’s pretty French furniture had been covered in black fabric, and even the walls were draped in black. Guests sat at little black bistro tables lit with red votive candles, and a woman dressed in a long deep red velvet dress lay on top of the grand piano with a microphone in her hand. As the pianist tickled the keys, she sang in a deep, throaty voice,

“Fawwwwwwl-ling in love again, never wanted to,

what am I to do, I can’t help it…”

Charlie spotted Isabel at one of the front tables, dressed in a man’s tuxedo with her hair slicked back, sitting on the lap of a male model who looked to be no older than twenty-five. Chloe and Delphine stood behind her, dressed in matching outfits of black vests, black shorts with garter belts, and black bowler hats, looking extremely uncomfortable. Chloe’s face lit up in relief the moment she saw her father.

Charlie marched up to Isabel’s table and demanded, “Can we talk?”

“Shh! Ute Lemper’s singing!” Isabel said, waving him off.

“We really need to talk now,” Charlie said as calmly as possible, grabbing her arm and leading her to the back of the room.

“What is your problem? We have one of the greatest chanteuses in the world right here, and you’re interrupting!” Isabel’s breath reeked of vodka, and Charlie looked into her eyes, trying to figure out if she was just drunk or having a manic episode.

“Isabel, it’s Thursday night. Why are you hosting a party for two hundred people right now, and what on earth did you make the girls put on?”

“Don’t you get it? This is the Weimar Republic. It’s 1931 Berlin and we’re at the Kit Kat Club. Chloe and Delphine are both dressed like Sally Bowles!”

Sighing deeply, he said, “I’m going to take them home with me right now. It’s past midnight on a school night and they can hardly keep their eyes open.”

“What are you talking about? The girls are having the time of their lives! I especially invited Hao Yun Xiang to the party because Chloe’s got a crush on him!” Isabel gestured to the strapping male model whose lap she had been keeping warm. “You’re just jealous, aren’t you? Don’t worry, I think you’ve got a bigger cock.”

At that moment, Charlie knew she was out of her mind. Isabel could do some outrageous things, but she was never profane. “I’m not jealous—” he began calmly.

“Well then, stop spoiling all the fun for the rest of us!” Isabel declared, going back to her chair. She straddled her male model this time and began swaying to the music.

It was obvious to Charlie that Isabel was in the midst of a manic high, and sooner or later she was going to come crashing down, and who knows what she would do. It was useless to argue with her like this. He grabbed Chloe and Delphine by their hands and marched them toward the exit. At the front door, he whispered to Jonny Fung, “You don’t let Isabel out of your sight, you hear me? And don’t let her leave the house until I come back tomorrow morning with her doctors.”

“Of course,” the head of security nodded.

—

At 3:00 a.m., Charlie was woken up by a phone call. Seeing it was Isabel, he rolled over onto his back with a sigh and answered.

“Where are my girls?” Isabel said, sounding preternaturally calm.

“They’re here with me. Fast asleep.”

“Why did you drag them off like that?”

“I didn’t drag them off. They were only too happy to leave the freak show and come home with me.”

“You know, you deprived them of seeing Ute’s full performance. She sang three encores. She sang ‘Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien.’ And I wanted Chloe to meet Tilda Swinton. When will she ever get a chance like this again?”

“I’m sorry, Isabel. I’m sorry Chloe didn’t get a chance to meet Tilda. But apparently she’s friends with Astrid, so maybe she’ll have another chance—”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about Astrid! Don’t you see that there are people suffering in the world? Do you know we raised two million dollars tonight for the earthquake victims? Think of all the children we are helping!”

Charlie gave an exasperated laugh. He knew it was pointless to argue with her when she was having one of these episodes, but he couldn’t help himself. “You could start with your own children.”

“So you think I’m a bad mother,” Isabel said, suddenly sounding very sad.