Crazy Rich Asians (18 page)

Peik Lin’s father gestured for Rachel to take the seat next to him. He was a stocky,
barrel-chested man in khaki trousers and a red Ralph Lauren shirt, the kind with the
oversize Polo-player logo in dark navy emblazened across the front. His clothes, coupled
with his short stature, made him appear incongruously boyish for a man in his late
fifties. On his small wrist was a chunky Franck Muller watch, and he too was wearing
a pair of cushioned slippers over his socks.

“Rachel Chu, long time no see! We are so very grateful for all the help you gave Peik
Lin back in her uni days. Without you, she would have been gone case at Stanford,”
he said.

“Oh, that’s not true! Peik Lin was a great help to
me
. I am so honored to be invited to your … incredible … house for lunch, Mr. Goh,”
Rachel said graciously.

“Uncle Wye Mun, please call me Uncle Wye Mun,” he said.

Three maids entered, adding plates of steaming food to a table
already laden with dishes. Rachel counted a total of thirteen different dishes laid
out on the table.

“Ok, everybody
ziak, ziak
.
^*
Don’t stand on ce-ree-moh-ny Rachel Chu, this is simple lunch, simple food
lah
,” Neena said. Rachel stared down at the heaving platters that looked anything but
simple. “Our new cook is from Ipoh, so today you are getting some ty-pee-cal Malaysian
dishes and Singapore dishes,” Neena continued, dishing a heaping portion of beef Rendang
curry onto Rachel’s gold-rimmed plate.

“Mama, we are done eating. Can we go to the playroom now?” one of the little girls
asked Sheryl.

“You are not done. I still see a few chicken nuggets left,” their mother said.

Neena looked over and scolded, “Aiyoooooh, finish everything on your plate, girls!
Don’t you know there are children starving in America?”

Rachel grinned at the girls with their adorable twin ponytails and said, “I’m so happy
to meet the whole family at last. Does nobody have to work today?”

“This is the advantage of working for your own company—we can take long lunch breaks,”
P.T. said.

“Hey, not too long,” Wye Mun growled jovially.

“So all your children work for your company, Mr. Goh … I mean, Uncle Wye Mun?” Rachel
asked.

“Yes, yes. This is a true family business. My father is still active as the chairman,
and I’m the CEO. All my children have different management roles. Peik Wing is the
VP in charge of project development, P.T. is VP in charge of construction, and Peik
Lin is VP in charge of new business. Of course, we also have about six thousand full-time
employees between all our offices.”

“And where are your offices?” Rachel inquired.

“Our main hubs are Singapore, Hong Kong, Beijing, and Chongqing, but we’re starting
satellite offices in Hanoi, and very soon, Yangon.”

“Sounds like you’re really pushing into all the high-growth regions,” Rachel commented,
impressed.

“For sure, for sure,” Wye Mun said. “Aiyah, you’re so smart—Peik
Lin told me you are doing very well at NYU. Are you single? P.T., P.T., why aren’t
you paying more attention to Rachel? We can add one more family member to the payroll!”
Everyone at the table laughed.

“Papa, you’re so forgetful. I told you she was here with her boyfriend,” Peik Lin
chided.

“
Ang mor, ah
?” he asked, looking at Peik Lin.

“No, Singapore boy. I met him earlier today,” Peik Lin said.

“Aiyaaaah, why isn’t he here?” Neena admonished.

“Nick wanted to meet you, but he had to help his friend with some last-minute errands.
We’re actually here for his friend’s wedding. He’s going to be the best man,” Rachel
explained.

“Who’s getting married?” Wye Mun asked.

“His name’s Colin Khoo,” Rachel replied.

Everyone abruptly stopped eating and stared at her. “Colin Khoo … and Araminta Lee?”
Sheryl asked, trying to clarify.

“Yes,” Rachel said in surprise. “Do you know them?”

Neena slammed her chopsticks down on the table and stared at Rachel. “Whaaaaaat? You’re
going to COLIN KHOO’S wedding?” she screeched, her mouth full of food.

“Yes, yes … are you going too?”

“Rachel! You didn’t tell me you were coming for
Colin Khoo’s wedding
,” Peik Lin said in a hushed tone.

“Um, you didn’t ask,” Rachel said uncomfortably. “I don’t understand … is there a
problem?” She suddenly feared that the Gohs might be mortal enemies of the Khoos.

“Nooooo!” Peik Lin cried, suddenly getting very excited. “Don’t you know? It’s the
wedding of the year! It’s been covered on every channel, in every magazine, and in
about a million blogs!”

“Why? Are they famous?” Rachel asked, completely baffled.

“
AH-LA-MAAAK!
Colin Khoo is Khoo Teck Fong’s grandson! He comes from one of the reeee-chest families
in the world! And Araminta Lee—she’s the supa-model daughter of Peter Lee, one of
China’s reeee-chest men, and Annabel Lee, the luxury hotel queen. This is like
royal weddeeeng
!” Neena gushed.

“I had no idea,” Rachel said in astonishment. “I just met them last night.”

“You met them? You met Araminta Lee? Is she as beautiful
in person? What was she wearing?” Sheryl asked, seemingly starstruck.

“She was very pretty, yes. But so simple—she was literally wearing pajamas when I
met her. She looked like a schoolgirl. Is she Eurasian?”

“No. But her mum is from Xinjiang, so she has Uighur blood, so they say,” Neena said.

“Araminta is our most celebrated fashion icon! She has modeled for all the magazines,
and she was one of Alexander McQueen’s favorite models,” Sheryl continued breathlessly.

“She’s a total babe,” P.T. chimed in.

“When did you meet her?” Peik Lin asked.

“She was with Colin. They picked us up at the airport.”

“
They picked you up at the airport!
” P.T. exclaimed in disbelief, laughing hysterically. “Was there an army of bodyguards?”

“Not at all. They came in an SUV. Actually, there were
two
SUVs. One took the luggage straight to the hotel. No wonder,” Rachel recalled.

“Rachel, Colin Khoo’s family owns the Kingsford Hotel!
That’s
why you’re staying there,” Peik Lin said, jabbing her arm excitedly.

Rachel didn’t quite know what to say. She found herself amused and a little embarrassed
by all the excitement.

“Your boyfriend is Colin Khoo’s best man? What’s his name?” Peik Lin’s father demanded.

“Nicholas Young,” Rachel replied.

“Nicholas Young … how old is he?”

“Thirty-two.”

“That’s one year above Peik Wing,” Neena said. She looked up at the ceiling, as if
racking through her mental Rolodex to see if she could recall a Nicholas Young.

“Peik Wing—ever heard of Nicholas Young?” Wye Mun asked his eldest son.

“Nope. Do you know which school he went to?” Peik Wing asked Rachel.

“Balliol College, Oxford,” she replied, hesitantly. She wasn’t sure why they were
suddenly so interested in every minute detail.

“No, no—I mean which primary school,” Peik Wing said.

“Elementary school,” Peik Lin clarified.

“Oh, I have no idea.”

“Nicholas Young … sounds like an ACS
^†
boy,” P.T. chimed in. “All those ACS boys have Christian names.”

“Colin Khoo went to ACS. Daddy, I already tried to check Nick out when Rachel first
started dating him, but no one I know has ever heard of him,” Peik Lin added.

“Nick and Colin went to elementary school together. They have been best friends since
childhood,” Rachel said.

“What is his father’s name?” Wye Mun asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, if you find out the parents’ names, we can tell you whether he comes from a
good family or not,” Wye Mun said.

“
Alamaaaaak
, of course he’s from good family, if he’s best friends with Colin Khoo,” Neena said.
“Young … Young … Sheryl, isn’t there a gyney named Richard Young? The one who practices
with Dr. Toh?”

“No, no, Nick’s father is an engineer. I think he works in Australia part of the year,”
Rachel offered.

“Well, see if you can find out more about his background, and we can help you,” Wye
Mun finally said.

“Oh, you really don’t have to do that. It’s not important to me what sort of family
he comes from,” Rachel said.

“Nonsense,
lah
! Of course it’s important!” Wye Mun was adamant. “If he’s Singaporean, I have a responsibility
to make sure he’s good enough for you!”

Nicholas and Colin

Perhaps out of nostalgia, Nick and Colin liked to meet up at the coffee shop of their
old alma mater on Barker Road. Located in the sports complex between the main pool
and the basketball courts, the Anglo-Chinese School coffee shop served a motley selection
of Thai and Singaporean dishes as well as such oddities as British beef pies, which
Nick loved. Back when the two of them were on the swim team, they would always grab
a bite after practice at the “tuck shop,” as they called it. The original cooks had
long since retired, the legendary
mee siam
was no longer on the menu, and the coffee shop itself wasn’t even in the original
space—having long since been torn down during the redevelopment of the sports center.
But for Nick and Colin, it was still the place to meet whenever they were both in
town.

Colin had already ordered his lunch by the time Nick arrived. “Sorry I’m late,” Nick
said, patting him on the back as he got to the table. “I had to swing by my grandmother’s.”

Colin did not look up from his plate of salted fried chicken, so Nick continued. “So
what else do we have to do today? The tuxes are in from London, and I’m just waiting
to hear back from some of the last-minute people about the rehearsal next week.”

Colin clamped his eyes shut and grimaced. “Can we please talk about something besides
this fucking wedding?”

“Okay then. What do you want to talk about?” Nick asked calmly, realizing that Colin
had hit one of his down days. The cheerful, life-of-the-party Colin of the night before
had vanished.

Colin didn’t respond.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” Nick asked.

Colin remained silent. There was no one else in the place, and the only sounds were
the occasional muffled shouts of players on the basketball court next door and the
clatter of dishes being washed every time the lone waiter walked in and out of the
kitchen. Nick leaned back into his seat, patiently waiting for Colin to make the next
move.

To the society pages, Colin was known as Asia’s billionaire bachelor jock. Famed not
only for being the scion of one of Asia’s great fortunes but also as one of Singapore’s
top-ranked swimmers back in his college days. He was celebrated for his exotic good
looks and debonair style, his string of romances with local starlets, and his ever-expanding
collection of contemporary art.

With Nick, however, Colin had the freedom to be his true self. Nick, who had known
him since childhood, was probably the only person on the planet who didn’t give a
damn about his money, and more important, the only one who was there during what they
both referred to as “the war years.” For beneath the wide grin and the charismatic
personality, Colin struggled with a severe anxiety disorder and crippling depression,
and Nick was one of the few people allowed to witness this side of him. It was as
if Colin bottled up all of his pain and anguish for months at a time, unleashing it
on Nick whenever he was in town. To anyone else, this would have been an intolerable
situation, but Nick was so used to this by now, he almost didn’t recall a time when
Colin wasn’t swinging between the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. This was
just a prerequisite of being Colin’s best friend.