China Rich Girlfriend (11 page)

Corinna shook her head dismissively. “Don't you see that those magazines are just exploiting you? Sure, the average reader of
Orange Daily
living in Yau Ma Tei must think your life is a dream come true, but at a certain level of Hong Kong society, it doesn't matter if you wear the finest couture and millions of dollars' worth of diamonds. At this level, anyone can do that. Everyone is rich. Anyone can make a twenty-million-dollar donation if they really want to. To these people, having your picture in the party pages all the time actually does more damage than good—it is seen as desperate. Trust me, being in
Tattle
is not going to help your image. It won't get you a membership at the Locke Club, or an invitation to Mrs. Ladoorie's annual garden party at her villa in Repulse Bay.”

Kitty didn't know whether or not to believe her. How could this woman who looked like her hair had been cut by some cheap hairdresser in Mong Kok dare to give her advice on her image?

“Mrs. Tai, let me tell you a bit about what I do. I advise people who want to secure a place among Asia's elite, among the real people of influence.”

“With all due respect, I'm married to Bernard Tai. My husband is one of the richest men in the world. He's already influential.”

“Oh
really
? Well where is Bernard these days, then? Why is he not at all the functions I go to? Why wasn't he at the Chief Executive's
^*5
lunch honoring the Fifty Most Influential Leaders in Asia last Thursday? Or at the party that my mother threw for the Duchess of Oxbridge last night? Why weren't you there?”

Kitty didn't know how to respond. She felt a wave of humiliation sweep over her.

“Mrs. Tai, if I may be very frank, the Tais have never had the best reputation.
Dato'
Tai Toh Lui was a corporate raider from some Malay backwater. The other tycoons despised him. And now his son is seen as a ne'er-do-well party boy who inherited a fortune but hasn't worked a day in his life. Everyone knows Carol Tai still controls the purse strings. No one takes Bernard seriously, especially after he married a former porn star turned soap-opera actress from Mainland China.”

Kitty looked like she had been slapped in the face. She opened her mouth to protest, but Corinna pressed on. “I don't care what the truth is—I'm not here to judge you. But I feel that you need to know this is what everyone in Hong Kong has been saying about you. Everyone except Evangeline de Ayala, who we both know is very new in town.”

“She was the first person who has been nice to me since I got married,” Kitty said sadly. She looked down at her napkin for a moment before continuing. “I'm not as stupid as you think. I know what people are saying. I've been treated horribly by everyone, and it started long before the Pinnacle Ball. I was seated next to Araminta Lee at the Viktor & Rolf show in Paris last year, and she pretended like I didn't even exist. What have I done to deserve this? There are so many other socialites with murky pasts, much worse than mine. Why am I being singled out?”

Corinna assessed Kitty for a few moments. She had expected her to be far more mercenary, and she was unprepared to discover the naïveté of the girl sitting in front of her. “Do you really want me to tell you?”

“Yes, please.”

“First of all, you are Mainland Chinese. You know how most Hong Kongers feel about Mainlanders. Like it or not, you have to work extra hard right out of the gate to overcome all the prejudices. But you handicapped yourself early on in the race. There's a whole crowd who will never forgive you for what you did to Alistair Cheng.”

“Alistair?”

“Yes. Alistair Cheng is immensely popular. When you broke his heart, you made enemies out of all the girls who have adored him and all the people who respect his family.”

“I didn't think Alistair's family was
that
special.”

Corinna snorted. “Didn't Alistair take you to Tyersall Park?”

“Tire-what?”

“My God, you never even got near the palace gates, did you?”

“What are you talking about? What palace?”

“Never mind. The point is, Alistair's mother is Alix Young—because of her, Alistair is related to almost every important family in Asia. The Leongs of Malaysia, the aristocratic T'siens, the Shangs—who own practically everything. I'm sorry to have to break this to you, but you placed your bet on the wrong horse.”

“I had no idea,” Kitty said in a whisper.

“How could you? You didn't grow up among these people. You've never been properly schooled in the ways of the manor-born. Let me assure you, if we choose to work together, you will get the insider's view on everything. I will teach you the ins and outs of this world. I will share with you all the secrets of these families.”

“And how much is all this going to cost me?”

Corinna took a leather folio out of her battered Furla tote bag and presented it to Kitty. “I charge an annual retainer, and you are contractually obligated to sign on for a minimum of two years.”

Kitty looked over the schedule of fees and burst out laughing. “You've got to be joking!”

Corinna's expression turned grave. She knew the moment had arrived for the hard sell. “Mrs. Tai, let me ask you something. What do you really want out of life? Because this is where I see your life heading: You'll keep flying around Asia for the next few years, going to galas and benefits and whatnot, getting your picture in the magazines. Over time, you might strike up friendships with other rich Mainlanders or the
gweilo
^*6
wives
of men stationed here with three-year contracts at some foreign bank or private equity firm. You might even be invited to join the boards of inconsequential charities started by these bored expat wives. Your in-box will be filled with invitations for cocktails at the Chopard boutique or art openings in Sheung Wan. Sure, you may occasionally be invited to one of Pascal Pang's parties, but the real Hong Kong will always be closed to you. You will never be asked to join the best clubs or attend the most exclusive parties in the best houses—and I'm not talking about Sonny Chin's mansion on Bowen Road. Your children will never get into the best schools and have playdates with children from the top families. You will never get to know any of the people who move the economy, who have the ear of the top politicians in Beijing, who affect culture. People who truly matter in Asia. How much is that worth to you?”

Kitty remained silent.

“Here, let me show you a few pictures,” Corinna said, placing an iPad on the table. As she began to scroll through an album of images, Kitty recognized a few of the city's top social figures posing casually with Corinna in private settings. Here was Corinna at breakfast on board the plane of a certain Mainland tycoon who now lived in Singapore, at the graduation of Leo Ming's son from St. George's School in Vancouver, in the delivery room at Matilda Hospital holding a famous Hong Kong socialite's newborn baby.

“These are people you can introduce me to?”

“These are my clients.”

Kitty's perfectly mascaraed eyes suddenly widened. “Ada Poon?
She's
one of your clients?”

Corinna smiled. “Let me show you a picture of what she looked like before I began working with her. For your eyes only.”

“Oh my God—look at that outfit! And those teeth!” Kitty cackled.

“Yes, Dr. Chan did some of his best work ever on her teeth, didn't he? Did you know that before she became the third Mrs. Francis Poon, she worked in the Chanel boutique on Canton Road in Kowloon? That's how she met Francis—he came in looking for a little something for his wife, but left with a little something for himself.”

“How interesting. I thought she came from a good Hong Kong family.”

Corinna chose her words carefully. “I can tell you about Ada's past because it's a well-known fact. But you see, practically anyone can rise up in Hong Kong society. It's all about perception, really. And the careful reinvention of personal history. We will refocus your image. Anyone can be forgiven.
Anything
can be forgotten.”

“So you will improve my image? You are going to help change Hong Kong's perception of me?”

“Mrs. Tai, I am going to change your life.”

MONTECITO, CALIFORNIA, MARCH 9, 2013

Rachel led her friends down the long hallway and opened a door. “Here it is,” she said in a hushed tone, gesturing for Goh Peik Lin and Sylvia Wong-Swartz to look in.

Peik Lin squealed as she caught her first glimpse of Rachel's wedding gown hanging on a vintage mannequin in the middle of the dressing room. “Ooooh!
It's gorgeous! Absolutely gorrrgeous!
”

Sylvia walked around it, inspecting the dress from every angle. “It's nothing like what I was expecting, but it's beautiful. So
you
. I still can't believe Nick took you to Paris to shop for your dress and you ended up finding this at the Temperley sample sale in SoHo!”

“I just didn't fall in love with anything in Paris. Every dress I saw this season was so over-the-top, and I really didn't want to deal with the fuss of a couture gown—you know, having to fly back and forth to Paris for all those fittings,” Rachel said a little bashfully.

“Oh you poor thing, what torture, having to go to Paris for your fittings!” Sylvia teased.

Peik Lin patted Sylvia on the arm. “
Aiyah
, I've known Rachel since she was eighteen. She's much too practical—we'll never change her. At least this dress looks like it could be haute couture.”

“Wait till you see it on. It's all about the way it drapes,” Rachel said excitedly.

Sylvia narrowed her eyes. “Hmm…that's not a typical Rachel Chu statement. We just might make a fashionista out of you yet!”

Rachel's cousin Samantha, looking rather authoritative with a headset on, entered the room all flustered. “There you are! I've been searching everywhere for you. Everyone's arrived, and we're all waiting to start the rehearsal.”

“Sorry, I didn't know you guys were waiting,” Rachel replied.

“Found the bride! We're on our way back!” Samantha barked into the headset as she shepherded the girls out of the main house and across the great lawn toward the Palladian-style music pavilion where the ceremony was to be held. Sylvia marveled at the mountains in the distance on one side of the lawn and the views of the Pacific Ocean on the other. “Tell me again how you guys found this amazing property.”

“We got really lucky. Nick's friend Mehmet told us about Arcadia—the owners are friends of his family. They only come here once a year for a few weeks in the summer, and never lend the place out for events, but they made a special exception for us.”

“Is Mehmet the hunk with the stubble and those incredible hazel eyes?” Samantha asked.

“You got it. The Turkish Casanova, we call him,” Rachel said.

“Imagine how rich you have to be to maintain this huge estate all year to use it for just a few weeks,” Sylvia said in astonishment.

“Speaking of rich, some of the women who just got here look like they stepped out of the pages of
Vogue China
. There's a tall, leggy, supermodel type wearing boots that clearly cost more than my Prius, and there's another stunning girl in the most to-die-for linen shirtdress with such a posh English accent—Aunt Belinda already has her nose halfway up her hoo-ha,” Samantha reported.

Rachel laughed. “I'm guessing that Araminta Lee and Astrid Leong have arrived.”

“She goes by Araminta Khoo these day,” Peik Lin corrected.

“Ooh, I can't wait to meet all these women I've been hearing so much about—it's gonna be like an issue of
Vanity Fair
magazine come to life!” Sylvia said gleefully.

The ladies entered the Tuscan-stone portico in front of the pavilion, where everyone involved in the wedding ceremony had assembled. The decorating crew was still putting the finishing touches to an intricate bamboo trellis entwined with wisteria and jasmine that led up the aisle to an arch where the couple would exchange their vows.

Belinda Chu rushed up to Rachel, looking rather distressed. “Your floral designer promises that the wisteria will be at its peak tomorrow,
just in time for the ceremony, but I'm not convinced. Look at how small some of these buds are. They won't be blooming for days! You'll need to put hair dryers on them! Tsk, tsk, tsk, you really should have used my guy, who does the flowers for all the best homes in Palo Alto.”

“I'm sure it will be just fine,” Rachel said calmly as she winked at Nick, who was standing in front of the arch talking to Mehmet, Astrid, and one of the crewmen.

Astrid greeted Rachel warmly with a hug. “Everything looks so beautiful, it makes me want to get married all over again!”

Nick's phone began to ring. Not recognizing the number, he ignored the call and put the phone on vibrate. The crewman standing next to Nick waved at Rachel shyly, and she realized with a start that it was Colin Khoo. With his shock of dark hair grown out to his shoulders, she hadn't recognized him.

“Look at you! Now you
really
look like a Polynesian surfer!” Rachel exclaimed.

“That's rad!” Colin replied as he gave the bride-to-be a kiss on the cheek. Araminta, who stood out from the crowd in her vintage Yves Saint Laurent safari jacket and gold leather caged thigh-high Gianvito Rossi sandals, was next to greet Rachel with a double-cheek kiss.

“That's the heiress whose wedding Rachel went to where all the trouble started,” Auntie Jin murmured under her breath to Ray Chu.

“Who's the fellow beside her in the torn jeans and flip-flops?”

“That's her husband. I heard he's a billionaire too,” Kerry Chu whispered back.

“It's like all my patients these days—I never know whether the kid in my dental chair is homeless or owns Google,” Ray said gruffly.

After everyone in the wedding party had been introduced to one another and Jason Chu had snapped enough pictures of himself with the supermodel and Nick's hottie cousin Astrid—who he swore had to be that babe from
House of Flying Daggers
—Samantha began corralling everyone into position for the procession up the aisle.

“Okay, after Mehmet has made sure all the guests have taken their seats, the procession can begin. Jase—you need to escort Aunt Kerry up the aisle first, before you come back for Mom. Once you get Mom to her seat, you're done and you can take the seat next to her. Now, I need Alistair Cheng. Where are you?” Alistair identified himself as Samantha checked the chart on her iPad. “Okay, you'll be escorting Astrid Leong
up the aisle, since she is representing Nick's family. That's Astrid over there. Will you remember her tomorrow?”

“I think so. She's my cousin,” Alistair said in his usual laconic manner.

“My bad—I didn't realize you were a cousin too!” Samantha giggled.

Nick's phone started buzzing again, and he dug into his jeans pocket in annoyance. It was from the same number, but this time it was a text message. Nick scrolled to the text, which read:

Nick stared at the text again. What on earth could his father mean?

Samantha began barking out new orders. “Okay, now it's time for the groom and his best man to enter. Nick and Colin—both of you will be at the staging area to the left of the pavilion while all the guests are being seated. When you hear the cello solo begin, that's your cue to walk down the path toward—”

“ 'Scuse me for one sec,” Nick said, dashing away from the arch. He stood at the back corner of the forecourt, frantically trying to call his father. This time, it went straight to voice mail: “I'm sorry, but the person you called has a voice-mail box that has not been set up yet. Please try your call again later.”

Damn
. Nick tried calling his father's regular Sydney number, an avalanche of dread suddenly beginning to engulf him.

Colin came up to check on him. “Everything okay?”

“Um, I don't know. Hey, don't you have security wherever you travel?”

Colin rolled his eyes. “Yes. It's a big nuisance, but Araminta's father insists on it.”

“Where's your security detail now?”

“There's a team posted outside the gates, and that woman over there is Araminta's personal bodyguard,” Colin replied, indicating a woman with a frizzy spiral perm seated inconspicuously among Rachel's relatives. “I know she looks like a bank teller, but let me tell you, she's former Chinese Special Forces and can disembowel a man in under ten seconds.”

Nick showed Colin the text message from his father. “Can you please call your security people and request extra backup for tomorrow? I'll pay whatever it takes. We need to go into full lockdown and make sure that only the people on the guest list are allowed onto the property.”

Colin grimaced. “Um, I think it's a little too late for that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look dead ahead. Twelve o'clock.”

Nick stared for a second. “No, that's not my mum. That's a cousin of Rachel's from New Jersey.”

“I mean look up. In the sky…”

Nick squinted into the bright blue sky. “
Oh. My. Fucking. Hell
.”

“Viv, is Ollie ready?” Samantha said, bending down to give Rachel's little toddler cousin the blue velvet pillow for the wedding rings. The boy took hold of the pillow for two seconds before it suddenly blew out of his hands. The branches on the towering oak trees began to tremble, and a deafening hum filled the air. From out of nowhere, a large black-and-white helicopter zoomed over the portico and hovered above the great lawn as it slowly began to land. Samantha and Rachel stared in horror as the wind gusts from the giant propellers began to tear apart everything on the portico like a tornado that had just touched down.

“Get away from the trellis! It's coming down!” a workman screamed as everyone began running for cover. The arch toppled over just as the trellis began to collapse. Parts of bamboo began blowing off the structure at high speed, and the wisteria buds were blown clear off their stems. Aunt Belinda screamed as a big clump of jasmine hit her in the face.

“Hiyah, everything is ruined!” Kerry Chu cried.

When the propellers of the AgustaWestland AW109 finally ground to a halt, the forward door opened and a burly man in dark sunglasses jumped out to open the main cabin door. A Chinese woman clad in a chic saffron-colored pantsuit stepped out.

“Jesus,
of course
it's Auntie Eleanor!” Astrid groaned.

Rachel went absolutely numb as she watched Nick sprint across the lawn toward his mother. Colin and Araminta rushed up behind her, followed by a Chinese lady with a bad perm, who was for some reason brandishing a gun.

“Let's get you back to the house,” Colin said.

“No, no, I'll be fine,” Rachel replied. Witnessing the sheer absurdity of the situation, a sudden realization had come over her. She had absolutely nothing to fear. Nick's mother was the one who was filled with fear. She was so afraid of this marriage actually taking place that she would go to all the trouble of chartering a helicopter and landing right in
the friggin' middle of their wedding site! Rachel found herself involuntarily walking onto the lawn toward Nick. She wanted to be by his side.

Nick stormed up to his mother in fury. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Eleanor looked at her son calmly and said, “I knew you were going to be mad. But there was no other way to reach you since you refused to return any of my calls!”

“So you think you could stop my wedding by launching this…this invasion? You're out of your fucking mind!”

“Nicky, stop using that kind of language! I did not come here to stop your wedding. I have no intention of doing that. In fact, I
want
you to marry Rachel—”

“We're calling security—you need to get off the premises right now!”

By this point, Rachel was beside him. Nick glanced at her quickly in concern, and Rachel smiled at him reassuringly. “Hello, Mrs. Young,” she said, finding a renewed confidence in her voice.

“Hello, Rachel. Can we please speak somewhere private?” Eleanor asked.

“No, Rachel is not speaking to you in private! Haven't you already done enough?” Nick interjected.

“
Alamak
, I'll pay to have everything fixed. Actually, you should be thanking me that rickety bamboo thing came down—that was a lawsuit waiting to happen. Listen to me, I'm really not here to ruin your wedding. I came here to ask for your forgiveness. I want to give you my blessing.”

“It's a bit late for that. Please just LEAVE US ALONE!”

“Trust me, I know where I'm not wanted, and I will gladly leave. But I felt that I needed to make things right for Rachel before she walks down the aisle. Do you really want to deprive her of meeting her father before her wedding?”

Nick stared at his mother as if she was deranged. “What are you talking about?”

Eleanor ignored her son and looked Rachel straight in the eyes. “I'm talking about your
real
father, Rachel. I found him for you! That's what I've been trying to tell the both of you for the past month!”

“I don't believe you!” Nick said defiantly.

“I don't care if you believe me. I met Rachel's father's wife through your cousin Eddie when I was in London last year—you can ask him yourself. It was all a complete coincidence, but I managed to put two and two together and confirmed that he really is her father. Rachel, your
father's name is Bao Gaoliang, and he's one of the top politicians in Beijing.”

“Bao Gaoliang…” Rachel said the name slowly, in utter disbelief.

“And right now, he's at the Four Seasons Biltmore in Santa Barbara, and he's hoping to see your mother, Kerry, again. And he's dying to meet you. Come with me, Rachel, and I'll take all of you to him.”

“This is another bullshit scheme of yours. You're not taking Rachel anywhere.” Nick was seething.