“Yes, yes, she’s your identical twin. Don’t worry, Kitty, your secret is safe with me. I’m a survivor, just like you. And I know you didn’t work your pretty ass off, quite literally I might add, to end up married to an upper-middle-class boy like my cousin.”
“You’re wrong about me. I love Alistair!” Kitty protested.
“Of course you do. I never said you didn’t,” Oliver replied, spinning her right next to Bernard Tai, who was dancing with Lauren Lee.
“Lauren Lee! My goodness, I haven’t seen you since last year’s Hong Kong art fair. Where have you been hiding yourself?” Oliver exclaimed as he switched partners with Bernard.
As Bernard began to ogle Kitty’s skimpily swathed décolletage, Oliver whispered into Kitty’s ear, “Bernard’s father, Dato’ Tai Toh Lui, has about four billion dollars. And he’s the only son.”
Kitty continued to dance as if she hadn’t heard a single word.
Seeking respite from the ear-splitting music, Astrid headed outdoors and climbed onto one of the terraces overlooking a canopy of treetops. Charlie noticed her leaving the banquet hall, and it took every ounce of determination for him not to follow her. He was better off admiring her from afar, in the way that he always had. Even when they were living together in London, he loved nothing more than to watch her quietly as she drifted through a room in her inimitable way. Astrid had always stood apart from any woman he had ever known. Especially tonight, when the most stylish women in all of Asia were dressed to impress and drowning in diamonds, Astrid outdid all of them by appearing in a flawlessly elegant cheongsam and an exquisitely simple pair of chalcedony drop earrings. He knew from the tailoring and intricately embroidered peacock feathers that the cheongsam had to be vintage, likely one of her grandmother’s. What the hell, he didn’t care how she might feel—he needed to see her again up close.
“Let me guess … not a fan of Tracy Kuan?” Astrid asked when she saw Charlie walking up the steps onto the terrace.
“Not when I have no one to dance with.”
Astrid smiled. “I’d happily dance with you, but you know the press would have a field day with that one.”
“Heh, heh—we’d wipe this wedding off the front pages tomorrow, wouldn’t we?” Charlie laughed.
“Tell me, Charlie, back in our day, were we anything like Colin and Araminta?” Astrid sighed, peering down at the fantastical harbor, its row of Grecian columns like leftover props from the set of Cleopatra.
“I’d like to think we weren’t. I mean, kids these days … the spending is on a whole other level.”
“ ‘Spending Ah Gong’s† money,’ as they say,” Astrid quipped.
“Yes. But at least we had the sense to feel naughty doing it. And I think that back in those days when we lived in London, we were buying things we actually loved, not things to show off,” Charlie mused.
“No one in Singapore gave a damn about Martin Margiela back then.” Astrid laughed.
“It’s a whole new world, Astrid.” Charlie sighed.
“Well, I hope Colin and Araminta live happily ever after,” Astrid said wistfully.
They were silent for a minute, taking in the calm of the rustling trees mingling with the low bass thump coming from the great hall. Suddenly the relative quiet was broken, as Asia’s bright young things flooded out onto the plaza in a raucous conga line led by the indefatigable Tracy Kuan doing her best rendition of the B-52s’ “Love Shack.”
“I can’t lie to you, Astrid. My wife was invited tonight, but she’s not here because we lead separate lives. We haven’t lived together in more than two years,” Charlie said over the din, slumping onto one of the Lucite benches.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Astrid said, jarred by his candor. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, my husband isn’t really away on business. He’s in Hong Kong with his mistress,” she blurted out before she could stop herself.
Charlie stared at her, incredulous. “Mistress? How could anyone in his right mind be cheating on you?”
“That’s what I’ve been asking myself all night. All week actually. I had been suspecting it for the past few months, but he finally came clean a week ago, before abruptly moving out.”
“He moved to Hong Kong?”
“No, I don’t think so. Actually, what am I talking about—I have no idea. I think his mistress lives there, and I think he went specifically this weekend just to spite me. It was the one weekend where his absence would surely be noticed.”
“Fucker!”
“That’s not all. I think he fathered a child with this woman,” Astrid said sadly.
Charlie looked at her in horror. “You think? Or you know?”
“I don’t really know, Charlie. There are so many things about this whole affair that don’t make sense to me at all.”
“Then why don’t you go to Hong Kong yourself and find out?”