“I’m not from China, I’m from Singapore,” Kitty declared.*3

“Who is this ‘special client’?” Wandi demanded, her thick mane of Beyoncé-bronzed hair shaking indignantly.

“She’s a friend of Giamba’s, so I only know her by her first name: Colette.”

The ladies suddenly fell silent, not daring to ask what they wanted to ask. Wandi finally piped up. “Er…are you referring to Colette Bing?”

“I’m not sure if that is her surname. Let me check the spec sheet.” He turned over a leaf of paper. “Ah yes, it is Bing. Une telle coïncidence! Is she related to you, Madame Bing?” Luka asked.

Kitty looked like a deer caught in headlights. Was Luka kidding? Surely he must know that Colette was her husband’s daughter from his first marriage.

Tatiana quickly jumped in. “No, she’s not. But we know of her.”

“Do we ever.” Wandi sniffed, wondering whether she should tell Luka how Colette’s bitch-from-hell video tirade had gone viral in China, logging more than thirty-six million views on WeChat alone, making her such a notorious poster child of fuerdai*4 bad behavior that she was forced to flee to London in disgrace. Wandi decided that it was better not to bring it up now.

“So this dress is for Colette,” Kitty said, fondling one of the gossamer-like organdy sleeves.

“Yes, it’s going to be her wedding dress.” Luka smiled.

Kitty looked up at him, stunned. “Colette is getting married?”

“Oh yes, madame, it’s the talk of the town. She’s marrying Lucien Montagu-Scott.”

“Montagu-Scott? What does his family do?” Wandi asked, since everything in her universe revolved around being part of an incredibly rich Indonesian family.

“I don’t know anything about his famille, but I believe he’s a lawyer?” Luka said.

Tatiana immediately began googling his name, and read aloud from the first link that popped up: “Lucien Montagu-Scott is one of Britain’s new generation of environmental lawyers. A graduate of the Magdalen College—”

“It’s pronounced ‘Maudlin,’ ” Georgina corrected.

“Maudlin College, Oxford, Lucien sailed across the Pacific on a catamaran made out of 12,500 reclaimed plastic bottles with his friend David Mayer de Rothschild to highlight the problem of global marine pollution. More recently, he has been involved in publicizing the environmental crisis in Indonesia and Borneo—”

“I think I’m going to fall asleep,” Tatiana scoffed.

“He’s a charming gentleman—comes with her to every fitting,” Luka remarked.

“I can’t imagine why Colette Bing of all people would end up settling for this guy. He’s not even an M&A lawyer—his annual salary probably wouldn’t even pay for one of her dresses! I guess she must be desperate to have mixed-race babies,” Georgina said, glancing covertly at Kitty, hoping she wasn’t too upset by the news. Kitty just stood staring at the dress, her expression inscrutable.

“Oooh…I want to have a beautiful mixed-race baby too! Luka, do you know any hot single French counts?” Wandi asked.

“I’m sorry, mademoiselle. The only comte I know is married.”

“Married is fine…I’m married too, but I would dump my boring hubby if I could get a beautiful half-French baby!” Wandi giggled.

“Wandi, careful what you wish for. You never know what sort of baby you’ll get,” Tatiana said.

“No, if you have a baby with a Caucasian man, you’re almost guaranteed it will be attractive. There’s a ninety-nine percent chance it will look like Keanu Reeves. That’s why so many Asian women are desperate to find white husbands.”

“First of all, Keanu isn’t half white. He’s like three-quarters—his mother is only part Hawaiian and his father is American.*5 And not to burst your bubble, but I have seen some rather unfortunate-looking mixed-raced babies,” Georgina insisted.

“Yes, but it’s very rare. And soooo tragic when that happens! OMG—did you hear about that man in China who sued his wife because all their children came out looking so ugly? He had purposely married this beautiful woman, but it turns out she’d had tons of plastic surgery before she met him! So the children all looked like her before the surgery!” Wandi giggled.

“That story was a lie!” Tatiana insisted. “I remember when it went viral, but it turned out the newspaper made up the whole thing and did a fake photo shoot with two models posing with a bunch of ugly kids.”

Finding the topic of unattractive children to be appallingly distasteful, Luka tried to steer the conversation in another direction. “I think Monsieur Lucas and Mademoiselle Colette will have beautiful children. She’s so pretty, and he’s very handsome, you know.”

“Well, good for them,” Kitty said in a merry tone. “Now, all this baby talk has made me want to look at some daytime outfits for Gisele. Can we do that? And do you have anything fun and unisex I can dress Harvard in?”

“Oui, madame.” As he headed back into the main showroom, Georgina took him by the arm. “Tell me, Luka, do you live on the second floor?”

Without missing a beat, Luka replied with a grin, “Yes, mademoiselle, I think you’ve seen me before.”

Wandi and Tatiana stood by the doorway watching as Kitty lingered for a moment longer by the dress. As she turned to leave, she grabbed the back of the precious Klimt-inspired skirt and gave it one quick, forceful tug—ripping it clear down the middle.

* * *

*1 See Wong Kar-wai’s The Grandmaster. I much prefer Wong’s In the Mood for Love to this film, but the set design was amazing.

*2 Or third or fourth or seventh richest, depending on which financial tabloid you trust.

*3 Kitty has only lived part-time in Singapore for two years, but like so many other immigrants from Mainland China has taken to referring to it as home.

*4 Mandarin for “second-generation rich,” this label is akin to “trust-fund kids” and carries all the scorn and envy it implies.

*5 Actually, Keanu Reeves was born in Beirut, Lebanon, to an English mother and a father of Hawaiian, Chinese, and English ancestry.

CHAPTER SIX

11 NASSIM ROAD, SINGAPORE

Winding through the heart of Bukit Timah, Nassim Road was one of the few long, picturesque streets in Singapore that still retained a feel of graceful, Old World exclusivity with its parade of historic mansions converted into embassies, tropical modern bungalows on crisp manicured lawns, and stately Black and White houses left over from the colonial era. Number 11 Nassim Road was a particularly fine example of Black and White architecture, as it had only changed hands once since it had been built a century ago. Originally commissioned by Boustead and Company, it had been purchased by S. K. Leong in 1918, and every original detail had been preserved and lovingly maintained since then by three generations of Leongs.

As Astrid pulled up the long driveway lined with Italian cypresses to the home where she had grown up, the front door opened, and Liat, the majordomo, gestured for Astrid to come down. Astrid frowned—she was picking up her mother to visit Ah Ma at the hospital, and they were already running late for the morning briefing with Professor Oon. Astrid left her dark blue Acura in the arched porte cochere and entered the foyer, bumping into her sister-in-law Cathleen, who was seated on a rosewood stool lacing up her walking shoes.