Crazy Rich Asians (61 page)

“No, I’m dead serious,” Charlie cut in. “Start a fake bidding war
between some of our subsidiaries if you have to. Now listen carefully. After the deal
is done, I want you to vest Michael Teo, the founding partner, with class-A stock
options, then I want you to bundle it with that Cupertino start-up we acquired last
month and the software developer in Zhongguancun. Then, I want us to do an IPO on
the Shanghai Stock Exchange next month.”

“
Next month?
”

“Yes, it has to happen very quickly. Put the word out on the street, let your contacts
at Bloomberg TV know about it, hell, drop a hint to Henry Blodget if you think it
will help drive up the share price. But at the end of the day I want those class-A
stock options to be worth
at least
$250 million. Keep it off the books, and set up a shell corporation in Liechtenstein
if you have to. Just make sure there are no links back to me. Never, ever.”

“Okay, you got it.” Aaron was used to his boss’s idiosyncratic requests.

“Thank you, Aaron. See you at CAA on Sunday with the kids.”

The eighteenth-century Chinese junk pulled into Aberdeen Harbour just as the first
evening lights began to turn on in the dense cityscape hugging the southern shore
of Hong Kong Island. Charlie let out a deep sigh. If he didn’t have a chance of getting
Astrid back, he at least wanted to try to help her. He wanted her to find love again
with her husband. He wanted to see the joy return to Astrid’s face, that glow he had
witnessed all those years ago at the bonfire on the beach. He wanted to pass it on.

Villa d’Oro

Peik Lin walked down the stairs carrying a Bottega Veneta tote. Behind her were two
Indonesian maids bearing a pair of Goyard suitcases and a carry-on valise.

“You do realize that we’re going to be there for one night? You look like you’ve packed
enough for a monthlong safari,” Rachel said incredulously.

“Oh please, a girl’s gotta have options,” Peik Lin said, tossing her hair comically.

They were about to embark on the trip to Shenzhen, where Rachel had arranged to meet
her father, an inmate at Dongguan Prison. She had initially been reluctant to set
foot on another private jet, but Peik Lin had prevailed upon her.

“Trust me, Rachel. We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” Peik Lin said. “The
hard way is to fly for four and a half hours on some third-rate airline and land in
the clusterfuck that is Shenzhen Bao’an International Airport, where we can wait in
a customs line for the rest of the day with thirty thousand of your closest friends—the
vast majority of whom have never heard of antiperspirant and won’t share the same
concept of personal space as you do. Or, we can call up NetJets right now and fly
on leather seats made from cows that have never seen barbed wire and drink Veuve Clicquot
for the two and a half hours it takes to fly to Shenzhen, where upon landing, a
young, fit customs officer will climb aboard our plane, stamp our passports, flirt
with you because you’re so pretty, and send us on our merry way. You know, flying
private isn’t always about showing off. Sometimes it can actually be for convenience
and ease. But I’ll defer to you. If you
really
want to go the chicken-bus route, I’m game.”

This morning, however, with Rachel looking rather ashen-faced, Peik Lin began to wonder
if the trip was a good idea so soon.

“You didn’t get much sleep last night, did you?” Peik Lin observed.

“I didn’t realize how much I’d miss having Nick next to me at night,” Rachel said
softly.

“His gorgeous, rock-hard body, you mean?” Peik Lin added with a wink. “Well, I’m sure
he’d be happy to come over and climb back into bed with you in a nanosecond.”

“No, no, that’s not going to happen. I know it’s over. It has to be,” Rachel declared,
her eyes moistening around the edges.

Peik Lin opened her mouth to say something, but then she stopped herself.

Rachel looked at her intently. “Just say it!”

Peik Lin put her tote bag down and perched on the velvet brocade settee in the entrance
foyer. “I just think you need to give yourself some time before you make any final
decisions about Nick. I mean, you’re going through so much right now.”

“It sounds like you’re on his side,” Rachel said.

“Rachel—what the fuck? I’m on
your
side! I want to see you happy, that’s all.”

Rachel said nothing for a moment. She sat down on the staircase and ran her fingers
along the cold smooth marble. “I want to be happy, but every time I think about Nick,
I just go right back to the most traumatic moment of my life.”

Trump, the fattest of the three Pekingese, waddled into the foyer. Rachel picked up
the dog and placed him on her lap. “I guess that’s why I feel like I need to meet
my father. I remember watching some talk show one night where adopted children finally
got reunited with their birth parents. Every single one of these kids—all of them
were adults at this point—talked about how they felt after meeting their birth parents.
Even if they didn’t get along, even if their parents were nothing like what they expected,
all of them somehow felt more whole after the experience.”

“Well, in less than four hours, you’ll be sitting face-to-face with your father,”
Peik Lin said.

Rachel’s face clouded over. “You know, I’m dreading the drive up to that place.
Dongguan Prison
. Even the name sounds ominous.”

“I don’t think they want it to sound like it’s Canyon Ranch.”

“It’s supposed to be medium security, so I wonder if we’ll actually be in the same
room together, or whether I’ll have to talk to him behind bars,” Rachel said.

“Are you sure you want to do this? We really don’t have to do this today, you know.
I can just cancel the flight. It’s not like your father’s going anywhere,” Peik Lin
said.

“No, I want to go. I want to get this over with,” Rachel said definitively. She ruffled
the dog’s golden fur for a moment and stood up, smoothing out her skirt.

They made their way to the front door, where the metallic-gold BMW, already loaded
with their luggage, awaited. Rachel and Peik Lin got into the back, and the chauffeur
pulled down the sloping driveway toward the gilded electronic gates of Villa d’Oro.
Just as the gates were opening, an SUV suddenly pulled up in front of them.

“Who’s the asshole blocking our way?” Peik Lin snapped.

Rachel looked out the windshield and saw a silver Land Rover with tinted windows.
“Wait a minute …” she began, thinking she recognized the car. The driver’s door opened,
and Nick jumped out. Rachel sighed, wondering what kind of stunt he was trying to
pull now. Was he going to insist on coming along to Shenzhen with them?

Nick approached the car and rapped on the back window.

Rachel lowered the window slightly. “Nick, we have a plane to catch,” she said in
frustration. “I appreciate that you want to help, but I really don’t want you to go
to China.”

“I’m not going to China, Rachel. I’m bringing China to you,” Nick said, flashing a
smile.

“Whaaaat?” Rachel said, glancing at the Land Rover, half expecting a man in an orange
jumpsuit and shackles to emerge. Instead, the passenger door opened and a woman in
a pale orange trench-coat dress with pixie-cut black hair stepped out. It was her
mother.

Rachel flung open her car door and jumped out hastily. “What are you doing here? When
did you arrive?” she said defensively in Mandarin to her mother.

“I just landed. Nick told me what happened. I told him we had
to stop you from going to China, but he said he wasn’t going to get involved anymore.
So I said I
had
to reach you before you tried to meet your father, and Nick chartered a private plane
for me,” Kerry explained.

“I wish he hadn’t.” Rachel moaned in dismay.
These rich people and their friggin’ planes!

“I’m glad he did. Nick has been so wonderful!” Kerry exclaimed.

“Great—why don’t you throw him a parade or take him out for oysters? I’m on my way
to Shenzhen right now. I need to meet my father.”

“Please don’t go!” Kerry tried to grab hold of Rachel’s arm, but Rachel jerked back
defensively.

“Because of you, I’ve had to wait twenty-nine years to meet my father. I’m not waiting
another second!” Rachel shouted.

“Daughter, I know you didn’t want to see me, but I needed to tell you this myself:
Zhou Fang Min is not your father
.”

“I’m not listening to you anymore, Mom. I’m tired of all the lies. I’ve read the articles
about my kidnapping, and Mr. Goh’s Chinese lawyers have already been in touch with
my father. He’s very eager to meet me.” Rachel was adamant.

Kerry looked pleadingly into her daughter’s eyes. “Please believe me—you don’t want
to meet him. Your father is not the man in Dongguan Prison. Your father is someone
else, someone I truly loved.”

“Oh great, now you’re telling me I’m the
illegitimate daughter
of some other guy?” Rachel could feel the torrent of blood rushing into her head,
and she felt as if she was back in that horrific drawing room in Cameron Highlands.
Just when things were beginning to make sense to her, everything was turned upside
down again. Rachel turned to Peik Lin and gave her a dazed look. “Could you ask your
driver to step on his gas pedal and just run me over right now? Tell him to make it
quick.”

The Star Trek House

Daisy Foo phoned Eleanor in a panic, telling her to come quickly, but Eleanor still
could not believe her eyes when she entered the living room of Carol Tai’s mansion,
the one everyone called the “Star Trek House.” Sister Gracie, the Taiwan-born Houston-based
Pentecostal preacher who had just flown in at Carol’s request, circled around the
lavishly appointed space as if in a trance, smashing up all the antique Chinese furniture
and porcelain, while Carol and her husband sat in the middle of the room on the woven
silk sofa, watching the destruction in a daze as two disciples of Sister Gracie’s
prayed over them. Following behind the diminutive preacher with tightly permed gray
hair was a full brigade of servants, some helping to break the objects she pointed
at with her rosewood walking stick, others frantically sweeping up all the debris
and putting it into giant black garbage bags.

“False idols! Satanic objects! Leave this house of peace,” Sister Gracie screamed,
her voice echoing throughout the cavernous room. Priceless Ming vases were smashed,
Qing dynasty scrolls were torn up, and gold-dipped Buddhas were toppled to the ground
as Sister Gracie decreed every object bearing the depiction of an animal or a face
to be satanic. Owls were satanic. Frogs were satanic. Grasshoppers were satanic. Lotus
flowers, though not an animal and faceless,
were also deemed satanic because of their association with Buddhist iconography. But
there was none more evil than the devilish dragon.

“Do you know why tragedy has befallen this house? Do you know why your firstborn son,
Bernard, has defied your wishes and run off to Vegas to marry some pregnant soap-opera
harlot who pretends to be from Taiwan? It is because of these idols! Just look at
the intricate lapis lazuli dragon on this imperial folding screen! Its evil ruby eyes
have transfixed your son. You have surrounded him with symbols of sin every day of
his life. What do you expect him to do but sin?”

“What utter nonsense is she talking? Bernard hasn’t lived in this house for years,”
Lorena Lim whispered. But Carol was looking at Sister Gracie as if she were receiving
a message from Jesus Christ himself, and she continued to allow the wholesale destruction
of antiquities that would have made any museum curator weep.

“It’s been like this for hours. They started in the
dato
’s study,” Daisy whispered. Eleanor jumped a little as Sister Gracie tipped over a
Qianlong funerary urn next to her. “Those snakes on that urn! Those snakes are descended
from the one in the Garden of Eden,” Sister Gracie screeched.