“Well, I wouldn’t want to ruin any of this amazing woodwork.” Astrid admired the gleaming golden teak surfaces around her. “How long have you had this junk?”
“Technically, it belongs to the company, since we’re supposed to use it to impress clients, but I’ve been working on restoring it for the past three years. Weekend project, you know.”
“How old is it?”
“She is from the eighteenth century—a pirate junk that smuggled opium in and out of all the tiny surrounding islands of southern Canton, which is precisely the course I’ve charted for today,” Charlie said, as he gave the order to set sail. The massive tarpaulin sails were unfurled, turning from burnt sienna to a bright crimson in the sunlight as the vessel lurched into motion.
“There’s a family legend that my great-great-grandfather dealt in opium, you know. In a very big way—that’s how part of the family fortune was really made,” Astrid said, turning her face into the breeze as the junk began to glide swiftly along.
“Really? Which side of the family?” Charlie raised an eyebrow.
“I shouldn’t say. We’re not allowed to talk about it, so I’m pretty sure it’s true. My great-grandmother was apparently completely addicted and spent all her time horizontal in her private opium den.”
“The daughter of the opium king became an addict? That’s not a good business strategy.”
“Karma, I guess. At some point, we all have to pay the price for our excesses, don’t we?” Astrid said ruefully.
Charlie knew where Astrid was going with this. “Don’t go beating yourself up again. I’ve said it a hundred times now—there was nothing you could have done to prevent Michael from doing what he wanted to do.”
“Sure there was. I’ve been driving myself crazy thinking back on all the things I could have done differently. I could have refused when my lawyers insisted that he sign that prenup. I could have stopped going to Paris twice a year and filling up our spare bedroom with couture dresses. I could have given him less-expensive presents—that Vacheron for his thirtieth birthday was a huge mistake.”
“You were only being yourself, and to anyone but Michael, it would have been perfectly okay. He should have known what he was getting himself into when he married you. Give yourself a little more credit, Astrid—you might have extravagant tastes, but that’s never stopped you from being a good person.”
“I don’t know how you can say all this about me, when I treated you so horribly, Charlie.”
“I never held a grudge against you, you know that. It was your parents I was mad at.”
Astrid stared up at the blue sky. A lone seagull seemed to be flying in tandem with
the ship, flapping its wings forcefully to keep up with it. “Well, now my parents
will surely regret that I
“There’s nothing shameful about it. Divorce is getting so common these days.”
“But not in our kind of families, Charlie. You know that. Look at your own situation—your
wife won’t give you a divorce, your mother won’t even hear of it. Think of what it’s
going to be like in
Two deckhands approached with a wine bucket and a gigantic platter overflowing with fresh longans and lychees. Charlie popped open the bottle of Château d’Yquem and poured Astrid a glass.
“Michael loved Sauternes. It was one of the few things we both loved,” Astrid said wistfully as she took a sip from her wineglass. “Of course, I learned to appreciate soccer, and he learned to appreciate four-ply toilet paper.”
“But were you really that happy, Astrid?” Charlie asked. “I mean, it seems like you sacrificed so much more than he did. I still can’t imagine you living in that little flat, smuggling your shopping into the spare bedroom like an addict.”
“I
“You haven’t failed him,” Charlie scolded. “The way I see it, Michael was the one who abandoned ship. He just couldn’t take the heat. As much of a coward as I think he is, I can also empathize a bit. Your family is pretty intimidating. They sure gave me a run for my money, and they won in the end, didn’t they?”