“Well, her dubious family background, for starters.”
“Oh, come on, Eleanor. You need to stop being so old-fashioned. Nobody cares about that kind of stuff anymore. Rachel is so well educated and down-to-earth. And she speaks perfect Mandarin.” She took care to mention all the things Eleanor was not.
“I didn’t know she spoke perfect Mandarin,” Eleanor said, getting more worried by the minute.
“Yes, she’s very accomplished. Why, I had the most fascinating conversation with her this morning about the importance of micro-lending in sub-Saharan Africa. You should feel lucky that Nicky has a girlfriend like her, and not someone like that spendthrift Araminta Lee. Can you imagine what the Khoos must be thinking right now, sitting here in the middle of this mosquito-infested jungle eating this absurd food? I’m so bloody sick of this Chinese fusion trend. I mean, it says on this menu card that this is Caramelized Peking Duck y Chocolat Molé, but it looks like peanut brittle. Where’s the duck, I ask you? Where’s the damn duck?”
“Will you excuse me a moment?” Eleanor said, getting up from the table abruptly.
Francesca was just about to take a pensive first bite into her Hawaiian Suckling Pig Truffle Tacos when Eleanor interrupted her. “Will you please come with me at once?”
Eleanor walked her into one of the cavern-like lounges surrounding the main banquet hall. She sank into a white mohair ottoman and inhaled deeply, as Francesca bent over her in concern, the ruffles on her flame-orange ball gown billowing around her like frothy waves. “Are you okay, Auntie Elle? You look like you’re having a panic attack.”
“I think I am. I need my Xanax. Can you get me some water? And please blow out all those candles. The smell is giving me a migraine.”
Francesca quickly returned with a glass of water. Eleanor downed a few pills quickly and sighed. “It’s worse than I thought. Far worse.”
“What do you mean?”
“Did you see that sapphire necklace on that girl?”
“How could I miss it? Yesterday she was wearing Ann Taylor Loft and today she’s in an Elie Saab gown from next season and those sapphires.”
“It’s my mother-in-law’s. It used to belong to the Grand Duchess Zoya of St. Petersburg, and now it’s been given to that girl. What’s more, the whole family seems to have fallen in love with her, even my bitchy sister-in-law,” Eleanor said, almost choking on the words.
Francesca looked grave. “Don’t worry, Auntie Elle. I promised you I would see to it, and after tonight, Rachel Chu will wish she had never set foot on this island!”
After the sixth and final course had been served, the lights in the great hall dimmed, and a voice boomed out, “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our very special guest!” The live band struck up a tune, and the wall of glass behind the stage began to part. The water in the lagoon started to glow an iridescent aquamarine before draining away completely, and from the middle of the lagoon, the figure of a woman rose up as if by magic. As she walked slowly toward the banquet hall, someone screamed, “Oh my goodness, it’s Tracy Kuan!” The usually grimfaced vice premier of China jumped out of his seat and began clapping like a man possessed, as everyone in the hall cheered and rose to a standing ovation.
“Who’s that?” Rachel asked, amazed by the huge surge of excitement.
“It’s Tracy Kuan—she’s like the Barbra Streisand of Asia. Oh my God, I can die now!” Oliver practically swooned, getting all choked up.
“Tracy Kuan is still alive?” Cassandra Shang turned in astonishment to Jacqueline Li
ng. “The woman must be at least a hundred and three by now, and she doesn’t look a day over forty! What on earth does she do to herself?”
“Whale vomit from New Zealand. Works miracles on your face,” Jacqueline shot back in dead seriousness.
Tracy Kuan sang Dolly Parton’s classic “I Will Always Love You,” with alternating verses in English and Mandarin, as the lagoon outside began to shoot elaborate fountain jets of water into the sky, synchronized to the music. Colin led Araminta onto the dance floor, and the crowd oohed and aahed as they danced to the ballad. When the song was over, all of the surfaces along the stage suddenly transformed into giant LED panels, projecting rapid stop-motion video sequences as Tracy Kuan launched into her classic dance hit “People Like Us.” The crowd roared in approval and rushed onto the dance floor.
Oliver grabbed Cecilia Cheng by the arm and said, “You are under orders from your grandmother to help me. I’m going to cut in on Alistair and Kitty, and you need to keep your baby brother distracted. All I need is one song alone with Kitty.”
Kitty and Alistair were grinding against each other feverishly when Oliver and Cecilia cut in, Alistair giving up Kitty reluctantly. How was he supposed to dirty dance with his own sister? “You’ve got the best moves on the dance floor!” Oliver yelled into Kitty’s ear, as Cecilia steered Alistair closer to the stage.
“I danced backup for Aaron Kwok. That’s how I got my start in the industry,” Kitty yelled back to Oliver as she continued to shimmy wildly.
“I know! I recognized you the minute I saw you the other day. You were wearing a short platinum blond wig in Aaron Kwok’s music video,” Oliver replied, expertly herding her toward a strategic point on the dance floor without her realizing it.
“Wow! You have a good memory,” Kitty said, feeling flattered.
“I also remember you from your other video.”
“Oh, which one?”
“The all-girl back-door-action one,” Oliver said with a little wink.
Kitty didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, I’ve heard about that video. That girl supposedly looks a lot like me,” she shouted back at Oliver with a smirk.