Page List


Font:  

SINGAPORE

Perhaps out of nostalgia, Nick and Colin liked to meet up at the coffee shop of their old alma mater on Barker Road. Located in the sports complex between the main pool and the basketball courts, the Anglo-Chinese School coffee shop served a motley selection of Thai and Singaporean dishes as well as such oddities as British beef pies, which Nick loved. Back when the two of them were on the swim team, they would always grab a bite after practice at the “tuck shop,” as they called it. The original cooks had long since retired, the legendary mee siam was no longer on the menu, and the coffee shop itself wasn’t even in the original space—having long since been torn down during the redevelopment of the sports center. But for Nick and Colin, it was still the place to meet whenever they were both in town.

Colin had already ordered his lunch by the time Nick arrived. “Sorry I’m late,” Nick said, patting him on the back as he got to the table. “I had to swing by my grandmother’s.”

Colin did not look up from his plate of salted fried chicken, so Nick continued. “So what else do we have to do today? The tuxes are in from London, and I’m just waiting to hear back from some of the last-minute people about the rehearsal next week.”

Colin clamped his eyes shut and grimaced. “Can we please talk about something besides this fucking wedding?”

“Okay then. What do you want to talk about?” Nick asked calmly, realizing that Colin had hit one of his down days. The cheerful, life-of-the-party Colin of the night before had vanished.

Colin didn’t respond.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” Nick asked.

Colin remained silent. There was no one else in the place, and the only sounds were the occasional muffled shouts of players on the basketball court next door and the clatter of dishes being washed every time the lone waiter walked in and out of the kitchen. Nick leaned back into his seat, patiently waiting for Colin to make the next move.

To the society pages, Colin was known as Asia’s billionaire bachelor jock. Famed not only for being the scion of one of Asia’s great fortunes but also as one of Singapore’s top-ranked swimmers back in his college days. He was celebrated for his exotic good looks and debonair style, his string of romances with local starlets, and his ever-expanding collection of contemporary art.

With Nick, however, Colin had the freedom to be his true self. Nick, who had known him since childhood, was probably the only person on the planet who didn’t give a damn about his money, and more important, the only one who was there during what they both referred to as “the war years.” For beneath the wide grin and the charismatic personality, Colin struggled with a severe anxiety disorder and crippling depression, and Nick was one of the few people allowed to witness this side of him. It was as if Colin bottled up all of his pain and anguish for months at a time, unleashing it on Nick whenever he was in town. To anyone else, this would have been an intolerable situation, but Nick was so used to this by now, he almost didn’t recall a time when Colin wasn’t swinging between the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. This was just a prerequisite of being Colin’s best friend.

The waiter, a sweaty teenager in a soccer T-shirt who didn’t look old enough to pass child labor laws, approached the table to take Nick’s order.

“I’ll have the beef curry pie, please. And a Coke

, extra ice.”

Colin finally broke his silence. “As always, beef curry pie and Coke, extra ice. You never change, do you?”

“What can I tell you? I know what I like,” Nick said simply.

“Even though you always like the exact same thing, you can always change your mind whenever you wish. That’s the difference between us—you still have choices.”

“Come on, that’s not true. You can choose.”

“Nicky, I haven’t been in the position to make a single choice since I was born, and you know that,” Colin said matter-of-factly. “It’s a good thing I actually want to marry Araminta. I just don’t know how I’ll make it through the Broadway production, that’s all. I have this perverse fantasy of kidnapping her, jumping on a plane, and marrying her at some little twenty-four-hour chapel in the middle of nowhere Nevada.”

“So why not do it? The wedding isn’t until next week, but if you’re already this miserable, why not call it off?”

“You know this merger has been choreographed down to the most minute detail, and this is how it’s going to be. It’s good for business, and anything that’s good for business is good for the family,” Colin said bitterly. “Anyway, I don’t want to dwell on the inevitable anymore. Let’s talk about last night. How was I? Sufficiently cheery for Rachel, I hope?”

“Rachel loved you. It was a nice surprise to be welcomed like that, but you know, you don’t ever have to put on a show for her.”

“I don’t? What have you told her about me?” Colin asked warily.

“I haven’t told her anything, besides the fact that you once had an unhealthy obsession with Kristin Scott Thomas.”

Colin laughed. Nick was relieved—it was a sign that the clouds were dissipating.

“You didn’t tell her about how I tried to stalk Kristin in Paris, did you?” Colin continued.

“Er, no. I wasn’t going to give her any more opportunities to back out of this trip by giving her full insight into my weird friends.”

“Speaking of weird, could you believe how nice Araminta was being to Rachel?”

“I think you’re underestimating Araminta’s ability to be nice.”

“Well, you know how she normally is with new people. But I think she wants to keep you on her side. And she could see that I liked Rachel instantly.”


Tags: Kevin Kwan Billionaire Romance