Crazy Rich Asians

“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.”

“I’m fine … I just got a text from Evangeline that Cassian is staging a coup and refusing to sleep, so I better dash off.” In reality, Evangeline had informed her that Michael had stopped by and was reading Cassian a bedtime story. DO NOT LET HIM LEAVE, Astrid frantically texted back.

Nick and Rachel decided to seize this opportunity to make an exit as well, pleading fatigue from a long day of travel.

As soon as the elevator had closed on them, Eleanor announced, “Did you see the way that girl was staring at everything around the flat?”

“Darling, you’ve spent a year decorating. Of course people are going to stare — isn’t that the whole point?” Philip interjected as he helped himself to a large slice of chocolate banana cake.

“Philip, that little economist brain of hers was busy calculating the value of everything. You could see her adding everything up with her big bulging eyes. And all that talk about cooking for Nick. What rot! As if that’s going to impress me, knowing that she puts her rough peasant hands all over his food!”

“Well, you’re in fine form tonight, darling,” Philip said. “Frankly, I found her to be very pleasant, and her features quite nice.” He was careful to emphasize the word quite, knowing that his wife would fly into even more of a jealous fit at the thought of another woman in her vicinity being unequivocally proclaimed a beauty.

“I have to agree with Philip. She was really quite pretty. Whether you care to admit it, Eleanor, your son at least has good taste,” Daisy said, as she scrutinized the maid pouring her caffe latte.

“Really? You think she’s as pretty as Astrid?” Eleanor asked.

“Astrid is a sultry, tempestuous beauty. This one is totally different. She has a simpler, more placid beauty,” Daisy observed.

“But don’t you think she’s a little flat-chested?” Eleanor said.

Philip sighed. There was just no winning with his wife. “Well, good night everyone. It’s time for my CSI: Miami,” he said, getting up from the sofa and making a beeline for his media room. Francesca waited for him to round the corner before she spoke.