Crazy Rich Asians

“His father has agreed to talk to him when we return to Hong Kong.”

“I don’t think that will be soon enough, Alix. The girl needs to be sent packing before she does something more offensive. I can only imagine what she’s going to wear to the ball tonight,” Victoria said.

“Well, what about Rachel, that girlfriend of Nicky’s?” Alexandra said, trying to deflect the focus from her son.

“What about her?” Su Yi asked, puzzled.

“Aren’t you concerned about her as well? I mean, we know nothing of her family.”

“Aiyah, she’s just a pretty girl that Nicky’s having fun with.” Su Yi laughed, as if the idea of him marrying Rachel was too ridiculous to even consider.

“That’s not the way it looks to me,” Alexandra warned.

“Nonsense. Nicky has no intentions with this girl—he told me so himself. And besides, he would never do anything without my permission. Alistair simply needs to obey your wishes,” Su Yi said with finality.

“Mummy, I’m not sure it’s that simple. That boy can be so stubborn. I tried to get him to stop dating her months ago, but—” Alexandra began.

“Alix, why don’t you just threaten to cut him off? Stop his allowance or something,” Victoria suggested.

“Allowance? He doesn’t get an allowance. Alistair isn’t concerned about money—he supports himself with those odd jobs on films, so he has always done exactly as he pleases.”

“You know, Alistair might not care about money, but I’ll bet you that trollop does,” Victoria expostulated. “Alix, you need to give her a good talking-to. Make her understand that it is impossible for her to marry Alistair, and that you will cut him off forever if she does.”

“I don’t know how I would even begin,” Alexandra said. “Why don’t you talk to her, Victoria? You’re so good at this sort of thing.”

“Me? Good grief, I don’t intend to exchange a single word with that girl!” Victoria declared.

“Tien, ah, you are all hopeless!” Su Yi groaned. Turning to one of her lady’s maids, she ordered, “Call Oliver T’sien. Tell him to come over right away.”

On the way home from the wedding reception, Nick had assured Rachel that his relationship with Mandy was ancient history. “We dated on and off till I was eighteen and went off to Oxford. It was puppy love. Now we’re just old friends who meet up every once in a while. You know, she lives in New York but we hardly ever meet—she’s way too busy going to A-list parties with that Zvi fellow,” Nick said.

Still, Rachel had sensed a distinctly territorial vibe coming from Mandy back at the fort, making her wonder if Mandy was truly over Nick. Now, as she was getting dressed for the most formal event she had ever been invited to, she wondered how she would compare to Mandy and all the other impossibly chic women in Nick’s orbit. She stood in front of the mirror, assessing herself. Her hair had been swept up into a loose French twist and pinned with three violet orchid blossoms, and she was wearing a midnight blue off-the-shoulder gown that draped elegantly across her hips before flaring out just above the knees into luxuriant folds of silk organza scattered with tiny freshwater pearls. She scarcely recognized herself.

There was a jaunty rap on the door. “Are you decent?” Nick called out.

“Yes, come in!” Rachel replied.

Nick opened the bedroom door and stopped dead in his tracks. “Oh wow!” he said.

“You like it?” Rachel asked bashfully.

“You look stunning,” Nick said, almost in a whisper.

“Do these flowers in my hair look silly?”

“Not at all.” Nick circled around her, admiring how the thousands of pearls shimmered like faraway stars. “It makes you look glamorous and exotic at the same time.”

“Thanks. You look pretty awesome yourself,” Rachel declared, admiring how utterly debonair Nick looked in his dinner jacket, with its streamlined grosgrain lapels perfectly accentuating his crisp white bow tie.

“Ready for your carriage?” Nick asked, entwining his arm through hers in a courtly manner.

“I guess so,” Rachel said, exhaling deeply. As they walked out of the bedroom, little Augustine Cheng came racing down the corridor.

“Whoa, Augustine, you’re going to break your neck,” Nick said, stopping him in his tracks. The little boy looked terrified.

“What’s wrong, little man?” Nick asked.

“I need to hide.” Augustine was panting.

“Why?”

“Papa’s after me. I spilled Orange Fanta all over his new suit.”

“Oh no!” Rachel said, trying not to giggle.

“He said he was going to kill me,” the boy said, shaking, with tears in his eyes.

“Oh, he’ll get over it. Come with us. I’ll make sure your father doesn’t kill you.” Nick laughed, taking Augustine by the hand.