“Of course, of course. We always have our most exclusive gaming salon available to you, Mr. Tai,” the manager said deftly.
Just then, Alistair Cheng wandered into the lobby, looking slightly disheveled.
“Alistair, so glad you found us!” Colin greeted him heartily.
“Told you it wouldn’t be a problem. Hong Kong’s just thirty minutes away by hydrofoil, and I know Macau like the back of my hand—I used to skip school and come here all the time with my classmates,” Alistair said. He caught sight of Nick and went over to give him a hug.
“Aiyoh, how sweet. Is this your boyfriend, Nickyboy?” Bernard said mockingly.
“Alistair’s my cousin,” Nick replied.
“So you guys played with each other’s cocks while growing up,” Bernard taunted, laughing at his own joke.
Nick ignored him, wondering how it was possible that Bernard hadn’t changed one bit since they were in primary school. He turned back to his cousin and said, “Hey, I thought you were coming to visit me in New York this spring. What happened?”
“A girl happened, Nick.”
“Really? Who’s the lucky girl?”
“Her name’s Kitty. She’s an amazingly talented actress from Taiwan. You’ll meet her next week—I’m bringing her to Colin’s wedding.”
“Wow, I can’t wait to meet the girl who finally stole the heart-breaker’s heart,” Nick teased. Alistair was just twenty-six, but his baby-face good looks and laid-back persona had already made him renowned for leaving a trail of broken hearts all over the Pacific Rim. (Aside from ex-girlfriends in Hong Kong, Singapore, Thailand, Taipei, Shanghai, and one summer fling in Vancouver, a diplomat’s daughter at his college in Sydney famously became so obsessed that she attempted to overdose on Benadryl just to get his attention.)
“Hey, I heard you brought your girlfriend to Singapore too,” Alistair said.
“Word travels fast, doesn’t it?”
“My mum heard it from Radio One Asia.”
“You know, I’m beginning to suspect that Cassandra has me under surveillance,” Nick said wryly.
The group entered the sprawling casino where the gaming tables seemed to glow with a peachy, golden light. Colin crossed the opulent sea anemone–patterned carpet and approached the Texas hold ’em table. “Colin, the VIP salons are this way,” Bernard said, trying to steer Colin toward the sumptuous salons reserved for high rollers.
“But it’s more fun to play five-dollar poker,” Colin argued.
“No, no, we’re moguls, man! I created that whole scene with the manager just so we could score the best VIP room. Why would you want to mix with all these smelly Mainlanders out here?” Bernard said.
“Let me just play a couple of rounds here and then we’ll go to the VIP room, okay?” Colin pleaded.
“I’ll join you, Colin,” Alistair said, sliding into a seat.
Bernard smiled tightly, looking like a rabid Boston terrier. “Well I’m going to our VIP room. I can’t play at these kiddie tables—I only get hard when I’m betting at least thirty thousand per hand,” he said with a sniff. “Who’s with me?” Most of Bernard’s entourage peeled off with him, with the exception of Nick, Mehmet, and Lionel. Colin’s face clouded over.
Nick took the other seat beside Colin. “I have to warn you guys, two years in New York has made me quite a cardsharp. Prepare to be schooled by the master … Colin, remind me what game this is?” he said, trying to lighten the mood. As the dealer began to expertly flick the cards across the table, Nick quietly fumed. Bernard had always been a troublemaker. Why should things be any different this weekend?
SINGAPORE, 1986
It all happened so fast, the next thing Nick remembered was the feeling of cold damp mud against his neck and a strange face looking down on him. Dark skin, freckles, a shock of brownish-black hair.
“Are you okay?” the dark boy asked.
“I think so,” Nick said, his vision coming back into focus. His entire back was soaked in muddy water from being pushed into the ditch. He got up slowly and looked around to see Bernard leering at him, red-faced, arms crossed like an angry old man.
“I’m going to tell your mum that you hit me!” Bernard shouted at the boy.
“And I’m going to tell your mum that you’re a bully. Plus, I didn’t hit you—I just pushed you away,” the boy replied.
“It was none of your bloody business! I’m trying to teach this little dick here a lesson!” Bernard seethed.