Tash Aw - Five Star Billionaire

They got out of the taxi at Guangdong Lu and, at Yinghui’s suggestion, went to a bar for a drink before starting their stroll (“It might perk me up a bit,” she’d said). It was one of those famous Western bars full of glamorous young people, local and foreign, the sort of place where celebrities visiting Shanghai dropped in to enjoy a glass of champagne while enjoying the view of Pudong; where last year a well-known Taiwanese singer had caused a scandal by getting into a drunken altercation; where Chinese girls in fashionable dresses allowed American investment bankers to buy them drinks — the default address for beginning or ending an expensive night out. In Mumbai or Singapore or Jakarta, there would be equivalent places, where groups of young men and women bought magnums of champagne and the music was so loud it drowned out not just all conversation but all sense of history too — but no other city went so far, so ruthlessly. It was as if the beautiful people who inhabited this cocktailed world were trying to re-create time and space, and this new universe was the here and now of the shimmering bar, which trained the visitor’s eye relentlessly on a view of the brashest skyline in the world. When you were here, you had no choice but to forget the past and all that you might have been attached to and, for an hour or two, believe in what the city wanted you to believe in.

And yet Yinghui could not get rid of her lingering — and, in fact, now growing — feeling of jealousy. When they stepped into the bar, it was already crowded and noisy, with a predominantly Western after-dinner crowd. They were greeted by the Australian manager, who kissed Walter on both cheeks, whispering something in his ear that made them both laugh. Walter placed a hand gently, very briefly, on her waist, and then both men looked at Yinghui simultaneously. What do you think of this week’s number? Better luck with this candidate. Not bad. Could do better . What were they thinking as they sized her up? Yinghui couldn’t stop imagining that the secret joke that Walter had shared with the manager had somehow involved her, a thought compounded by the manager’s over-friendliness when he was introduced to Yinghui. “So pleased to meet you!” he gushed slickly, emphasizing nearly every word in the sentence.

They were shown to a pair of low comfortable chairs in a softly lit alcove, where the plush furnishings made the music tolerable and they could just about hear each other.

“Right, we need to talk business for a bit, I’m afraid,” Yinghui said. She had decided that it was the only way she was going to shake her feelings of insecurity. Talking about work made her feel as though she was on firm ground again — in control.

Walter frowned. “I’m sure it can wait ‘til tomorrow. Tonight’s meant to be a bit of a celebration.”

“Sure. But maybe we should save the celebration for when the deal is done — I mean, contractually tied up and all parties know where they stand exactly. At the moment there’s a lot of vague goodwill but no clear commitment yet.”

“Vague goodwill? I thought it was crystal clear. And without commitment we wouldn’t be here. Why don’t we order some drinks and leave work for tomorrow.” He handed her the cocktail menu, which she looked at without enthusiasm.

“Now that I know I have the loan money, I think we should push ahead, just as a tangible sign of partnership. I really feel that it would be a smart move for us both to commit our respective shares into the joint-venture company so that we can get things going.”

Walter was still frowning. “There’s no rush, really there isn’t. I know how committed you are.”

“What if someone comes along with a better offer in the meantime? While we’re still wavering instead of pushing on with our plans? Why hang back when you’ve got a good feeling about a joint project? How do you know I’m not going to take my newfound finances elsewhere?”

“If that did happen I would be very sad, because I think you are the perfect person for this … partnership. Yes, I would be very sad.” He raised his hand and signaled to the waiter. “But there would be nothing I could do about it. If you bail out, you bail out.”

“So you’re willing to let me go just like that, huh? Or maybe you don’t want me to commit my funds because you don’t want to commit yours. Maybe you’re actually not very serious. As I said, maybe you’re auditioning several candidates.”

His frown narrowed into a squint, an exaggerated sign of confusion. The waiter arrived and Walter said, “The usual for me.”

“Same for me,” Yinghui added.

“You know what the position is,” Walter said. “There will be other parties involved at a later stage — lots and lots of them. But you and I are the ones closest to the project. We are the ones who are going to generate the idea. We are the heart and soul of the deal.”

Yinghui looked out the window at the lights that flashed across the entire face of each skyscraper across the river, the clash of mismatching colors making no attempt at harmony. “Sorry, I’m a bit touchy this evening,” she said after a pause. “That banker really got under my skin — said she didn’t know who you were or about any of the projects you’ve completed. What kind of a banker is she?”

Walter laughed. “Good to know that my policy of keeping a low profile works well. I try to organize everything through a series of companies, or I use my partners’ names. I hate being known.” He looked her squarely in the eye, a hint of a smile still imprinted on his face. “Those rich people who flaunt their wealth to the whole world … I detest them.”

Yinghui nodded. She sensed an earnestness in his regard, the force of his convictions, and suddenly she felt she needed to match his brutal forthrightness, needed to be close to this man who was so honest and direct. “I agree. I hate publicity seekers. All this vulgarity …” She gestured at the space around her, at the shiny, moneyed young faces and the silver-gilt décor.

Walter said, “If it makes you feel better, we can arrange to draw up the paperwork for a proper, solid joint venture tomorrow. My lawyers have already set one up — there are bank accounts poised for action, all the admin is in place. I want you to feel totally secure.”

“I only feel secure,” Yinghui replied, “when I have security.” She had hoped to appear self-mocking, but her voice sounded hard, over-determined. She paused for a moment before adding more measuredly, “I’ll pay in my share next week, as soon as the bank deposits the loan money in my account.”

Walter shook his head. “Okay, you do whatever you wish, but, as I say, there’s really no rush. Of course, if you do so, I’ll do the same. Contrary to what you think, I’m not hanging back at all.”

The drinks arrived — two simple flutes of champagne. Walter raised his glass and reached it toward Yinghui. “Are we done with business now?” he said.

She laughed. “Yes. Sorry — you know me, work, work, work. I need to learn to lighten up. We should, um, do fun things together.” They touched their glasses lightly in a toast. “Mmm, delicious,” she said.

“Krug, 1992,” Walter said. “Hey, isn’t that the actor who plays James Bond? In the gray suit over there.”

Yinghui turned around. “Don’t know — I don’t watch films that much nowadays.”

“We should put that right, go to the movies sometime. I know a wonderful cinema that shows old French films and new underground ones. Every banned film gets a screening there at least once.”

“Excellent,” Yinghui replied. “So many things we can look forward to.”