Crazy Rich Asians

Eleanor smiled graciously. I’m sure you can—with my son’s money.

“Rachel is an amazing cook. Without her, I’d probably be eating ramen noodles every night,” Nick added.

“That would be just like you,” Daisy commented. She looked at Rachel and said, “I used to call Nicky my ‘Noodle Boy’—he was always so crazy over noodles as a kid. We would take him to the top restaurants in Singapore, and all he ever wanted was a plate of fried noodles with extra gravy.”

As she said this, three maids entered the dining alcove and placed large steaming bowls of laksa noodle soup in front of each guest. Rachel marveled at the beautiful composition of butterfly shrimp, fried fish cake, pillowy tofu puffs, and hard-boiled egg halves beautifully arranged over the thick rice vermicelli and fiery soup. For a few minutes, the room lapsed into silence as everyone slurped down the distinctive noodles and savored the rich broth.

“I can taste the coconut milk in the soup, but what gives it the slightly tart, spicy kick? Is it Kaffir?” Rachel asked.

Show-off, Eleanor thought.

“Good guess. It’s tamarind,” Daisy answered. This girl wasn’t bullshitting—she does know how to cook.

“Rachel, it’s so impressive that you know your way around a spice rack,” Francesca chirped, her fake-friendly tone barely masking her disdain.

“Apparently not as well as you know how to gut a fish,” Rachel commented.

“You girls went fishing?” Philip looked up from his laksa in surprise.

“Oh, yes, we did. One of the girls even caught a bigger, endangered fish. We tried to convince her to put it back in the water, but she wouldn’t, and it ended up biting her very hard. There was blood squirting all over the place,” Francesca said, biting the head off her jumbo prawn and spitting it onto the side of the bowl.

“Serves her right, lah! Our oceans are getting so overfished, and we must respect all of God’s creatures,” Carol declared.

“Yes, I agree. You know, when you’re just a tourist, you need to learn to respect the environment you’re in,” Francesca said, glaring at Rachel for a split second before shifting her gaze onto Astrid. “Now Astrid, when can I get you to join one of my committees?”

“What sort of committees?” Astrid asked more out of politeness than any real curiosity.

“Take your pick—I’m on the boards of the Singapore History Museum, the Museum of Contemporary Arts, the Heritage Society, the Pulau Club, the Cultural Arts Advisory Board at SBC, the steering committee of Singapore Fashion Week, the Singapore Zoo, the Lee Kong Chian Natural History Museum’s Selection committee, the Wine Connoisseurs Society, Save the Shahtoosh, the junior committee of Christian Helpers, and, of course, the Shaw Foundation.”

“Well, my three-year-old boy keeps me pretty busy—” Astrid began.

“Once he’s in kindergarten and you have nothing to do, you really should consider joining one of my charities. I could fast-track you onto a committee. I think you’d be a natural.”

“So Rachel, I hear you teach at NYU with Nick?” Lorena cut in. This Francesca is getting on my nerves. We’re here to interrogate RACHEL, not Astrid.

“Yes, I do,” Rachel replied.

“Which department?” Nadine asked, fully knowing the answer, since Eleanor had read the entire dossier on Rachel Chu to all the ladies while they were getting hour-long reflexology massages in Shenzhen.

“I’m in the Department of Economics, and I teach at the under-grad level.”

“And how much do you get paid a year?” Nadine inquired.

Rachel was dumbstruck.

“Aiyah, Mummy, to Americans, it’s very rude to ask how much somebody makes,” Francesca said at last, clearly delighting in seeing Rachel squirm.

“Oh, is it? I was just curious to know how much a college teacher in America could possibly earn,” Nadine said in her most innocent tone.

“Would you ever consider working in Asia?” Daisy asked.

Rachel paused. It seemed like a pretty loaded question, and she figured that the group would dissect whatever answer she gave. “Of course, if the right opportunity came along,” she finally replied.

The ladies exchanged furtive looks, while Philip slurped on his soup.

After dinner, as the group adjourned to the living room for coffee and dessert, Astrid abruptly announced that she had to leave.

“Are you okay?” Nick asked. “You seem a little out of sorts tonight.”