Crazy Rich Asians

Nick ran his fingers along the leather-bound spines perfectly arranged on the neoclassical mahogany bookcase. Lieutenant Hornblower. Islands in the Stream. Billy Budd. All nautical-themed titles. He picked out a volume by Knut Hamsun that he had never heard of, August, and settled into one of the overstuffed club chairs, hoping he would be undisturbed for a while. Cracking open the stiff embossed cover, he could tell at once that its pages, like most of the others here, had probably never seen the light of day. Hardly surprising, considering that this sumptuous library was tucked away on the lower deck of a 388-foot yacht that boasted such distractions as a ballroom, a karaoke lounge for Bernard’s dad, a chapel for his mother, a casino, a sushi bar complete with a full-time sushi chef from Hokkaido, two swimming pools, and an outdoor bowling alley on the uppermost deck that also converted into a runway for fashion shows.

Nick glanced at the door in dismay as footsteps could be heard coming down the spiral staircase just outside the library. If he’d been smarter, he would have locked the door behind him. Much to Nick’s relief, it was Mehmet who peered in. “Nicholas Young—why am I not surprised to find you in the only intellectually inclined room on this entire vessel?” Mehmet remarked. “Mind if I join you? This looks to be the quietest place on the boat, and if I have to hear another Hôtel Costes remix, I think I’m going to jump overboard and swim for the nearest buoy.”

“You’re most welcome here. How are the natives doing?”

“Incredibly restless, I would say. I left the pool deck just as the ice-cream-sundae contest began.”

“They’re making sundaes?” Nick cocked an eyebrow.

“Yes. On a dozen nude Macanese girls.”

Nick shook his head wearily.

“I tried to rescue Colin, but he got trapped. Bernard anointed Colin the Whipped Cream King.”

Mehmet slouched into a club chair and closed his eyes. “Colin should have listened to me and come to Istanbul for a relaxing getaway before the wedding. I told him to invite you too.”

“Now that would have been nice.” Nick smiled. “I would much rather be at your family’s summer palace on the banks of the Bosphorus than on this boat.”

“You know, I’m surprised Colin had a bachelor party in the first place. It didn’t strike me as his sort of thing.”

“It’s not, but I think Colin felt like he couldn’t refuse Bernard, what with Bernard’s father being the largest minority shareholder in the Khoo Organization,” Nick explained.

“Bernard’s doing a fine job, isn’t he? He truly thinks Colin enjoys being part of the biggest drug and drinking binge I’ve witnessed since spring break in Cabo,” Mehmet murmured.

Nick stared at him in surprise, never expecting to hear those words come out of Mehmet’s mouth. Mehmet opened one eye and grinned. “Just kidding. I’ve never been to Cabo—I just always wanted to say that.”

“You scared me for a second!” Nick laughed.

Just then, Colin stumbled into the library and plopped down on the nearest chair. “God help me! I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat another maraschino cherry again!” He moaned, massaging his temples.

“Colin, did you actually eat off one of the girls?” Mehmet asked incredulously.

“Nooo! Araminta would kill me if she found out I ate a hot fudge sundae off some girl’s pu … er, crotch. I only took one cherry, and then I told Bernard I really needed to go to the bathroom.”

“Where did all these girls come from in the first place?” Mehmet asked.

“Bernard hired them from that brothel he forced all of us to go to last night,” Colin mumbled through his pounding headache.

“You know, I think he was genuinely shocked when we turned down the girls he had procured for the night,” Mehmet remarked.

“Poor bastard. We’ve completely ruined his bachelor weekend, haven’t we? We didn’t want to go to the dogfights, we didn’t want to make sex videos with prostitutes, and we turned up our noses at his fancy Peruvian cocaine.” Nick laughed.

Screams could be heard from the upper deck, followed by much panicked yelling. “I wonder what’s happening now,” Nick said. But none of them could muster up the effort to get out of the plush club chairs. The yacht began to slow, and several crewmen could be heard running along the lower decks.

Alistair strolled into the room, carefully balancing a white cup and saucer with what appeared to be a very frothy cappuccino.

“What’s all the screaming on the deck?” Colin asked with a groan.