Кевин Кван - China Rich Girlfriend

Astrid tried to laugh off her comment.

“This is no joke. The fact that you don’t even see it is what’s alarming. It’s like you’ve got Stockholm syndrome or something. What happened to “The Goddess”? The Astrid I know would never have put up with this.”

Astrid remained silent for a few moments, and then she looked up at her friend. “I do see it, Carmen. I see it all.”

“Then why are you letting it happen? Because take it from me, this is a slippery slope you’re on. First it’s just a few digs here and there, but then one morning you wake up and realize that every conversation you have with your husband is a shouting match.”

“It’s more complicated than that, Carmen.” Astrid took a deep breath and then continued. “The truth is Michael and I hit a big speed bump a few years ago. We were separated for a while and on the brink of divorce.”

Carmen’s eyes widened. “When?”

“Three years ago. Right around the time of Araminta Lee’s wedding. You’re the only person on this entire island I’ve told this to.”

“What happened?”

“It’s a long story, but it basically boiled down to the fact that Michael was having a hard time coping with the power dynamic in our marriage. Even though I tried my best to be supportive, he felt emasculated by…you know, the whole money thing. He felt like a trophy husband, and the way my family treated him wasn’t helping much either.”

“I can see how being married to Harry Leong’s only daughter can’t be easy, but come on, most men can only dream of being so lucky,” Carmen said.

“That’s exactly it. Michael’s not like most men. And that’s what attracted me to him. He is so smart, and so driven, and he really wanted to make it on his own terms. He’s never wanted to use a single family connection to help him get a leg up in his business, and he’s always insisted on not taking a cent from me.”

“Is that why you guys were living in that little place on Clemenceau Avenue?”

“Of course. He bought that flat with his own money.”

“No one could figure that out! I remember everyone was talking about it— Can you believe Astrid Leong married this ex-army guy and moved into some TINY OLD FLAT? The Goddess has really come down to earth .”

“Michael didn’t marry me because he wanted some goddess. And now that he’s finally made it, I’m trying to be more like a traditional wife. I’m trying to let him have his way more, and to win some battles, some of the time.”

“Just as long as you don’t lose yourself in the process.”

“Come on, Carmen, would I ever let that happen? You know, I’m happy that Michael’s finally taken an interest in some of the things that matter to me. Like how he dresses. And how we live. I’m glad that he’s developed strong opinions, and that he challenges me sometimes. It’s quite a turn-on, actually. It reminds me of what originally drew me to him.”

“Well, as long as you’re happy,” Carmen conceded.

“Look at me, Carmen. I’m happy. I’ve never been happier.”

*1 Hokkien for “cheap, stingy.”

*2 Believe it or not, this is the Singapore real estate industry term for luxury properties that have a minimum lot size of 15,070 square feet and a height of only two stories. On an island of 5.3 million, there remain only about 1,000 Good Class Bungalows. They are located exclusively in the prime residential districts 10, 11, 21, and 23, and a nice starter-level GCB can be yours for around US$45 million.

*3 Malay slang for “contact, connection.”

*4 Hokkien for “afraid to lose out” to something or someone.

*5 Hokkien slang for “Fucking hell, this house is friggin’ HUGE!”

*6 A popular and charmingly eye-watering Hokkien phrase that translates literally as “Fuck your mother’s smelly rotten pussy.”

*7 This traditional Singaporean delicacy consists of a small, flower-shaped steamed cake of pounded rice flour filled with brown sugar and either ground peanuts or grated coconut. It is served on a pandan leaf for extra fragrance. The “kueh tutu man” used to be a familiar sight in Singapore’s Chinatown district but these days is an increasing rarity.

*8 Hokkien for “easygoing, down-to-earth.”

16PARIS

Excerpts from Rachel’s Diary

Sunday, June 16

Traveling to Paris Colette Bing — style was like entering an alternate universe. I never thought I’d eat the best Peking duck of my life at an altitude of 40,000 feet in a dining room more lavish than Empress Cixi’s Summer Palace, or get to see Man of Steel in the plane’s IMAX-designed screening room (it just opened in the U.S., but Adele Deng’s family owns one of the biggest cinema chains in the world, so she gets advance screeners of everything). I never imagined I’d witness the sight of six extremely sloshed Chinese girls doing a rendition of “Call Me Maybe” off-key in Mandarin in the plane’s karaoke lounge, which had marble walls embedded with pulsating LED lights. Before we knew it, we had landed at Le Bourget Airport, and it was all so civilized — no lines, no customs, no fuss, just three officials who came aboard to stamp our passports and a fleet of black Range Rovers waiting on the tarmac. And, oh yeah, six bodyguards who all looked like Alain Delon in his prime. Colette hired this security detail of ex — French Foreign Legionnaires to follow us around 24/7. “It’ll be a fun sight gag,” she said.

The gleaming black cars whisked us to the city in no time at all and deposited us at the Shangri-La Hotel, where Colette bought out all the rooms on the two top floors. The whole place had the feel of a private residence, precisely because it used to be the palace of Prince Louis Bonaparte, Napoleon’s grandson, *1and four years were spent painstakingly restoring it. Everything in our ginormous suite is done in splendid shades of cream and celadon, and there’s the prettiest dressing table with a three-way folding mirror that I took a million pictures of from every angle. Somewhere in Brooklyn, I know there’s a hipster carpenter/literary agent who can replicate it. I tried to get some shut-eye like Nick but I’m too excited, jet-lagged, and hungover at the same time. 11 hours on a plane + 1 genius Filipino bartender = bad combo

Monday, June 17

Woke up this morning to the sight of Nick’s cute naked butt silhouetted against a view of the Eiffel Tower and thought I was still dreaming. Then it finally hit me — we’re really in the City of Lights! While Nick spent the day poking around bookshops in the Latin Quarter, I joined the girls on their first big shopping expedition. In the motorcade of SUVs, I ended up in a car with Tiffany Yap, who gave me the lowdown on all the other girls: impeccably mannered Stephanie Shi hails from a top political family, and her mother’s family has huge mining and property holdings throughout the country. Adele Deng, who has had the same pageboy haircut since kindergarten, is the shopping mall and cinema heiress, and she’s married to the son of another party patriarch. Wen Pi Fang’s father is the Natural Gas King, and Perrineum Wang, whose chin, nose, and cheekbones are apparently rather new, also possesses the newest fortune. “Ten years ago her father started an e-commerce company in their living room, and now he’s China’s Bill Gates.” And Tiffany herself? “My family’s in beverages” was all the girl with the beguiling overbite would say. But guess what? All these girls work at P. J. Whitney Bank, and all have very impressive-sounding titles — Tiffany is an “Associate Managing Director — Private Client Group.” So it wasn’t a problem for all of you to take off at a moment’s notice and come to Paris? “Of course not,” Tiffany said.