China Rich Girlfriend Page 19
CW: What are you up to today? Lunch possible?
ALT: Sorry, I’m already at the airport.
CW: Such a short trip!
ALT: Yes, that’s why I didn’t call you beforehand. This was a one-nighter on my way to LA.
CW: Your hubby buying up another Silicon Valley company this week?
ALT: No, hubby’s already back in S’pore. I’m going to California for Nicky’s wedding in Montecito. (Shh! It’s a secret, and no one in my family knows I’m going except my cousin Alistair, who’s traveling with me.)
CW: So Nicky’s finally marrying that girl everyone couldn’t stop talking about a couple of years ago?
ALT: Yes, Rachel. She’s great.
CW: Please give him my congratulations. Michael’s not going to the wedding?
ALT: It would have looked too suspicious if both of us ran off to the U.S. so soon after our last trip. BTW, he was thrilled to meet you last night. Apparently he’s a huge fan of yours and couldn’t believe I was the one making the introductions.
CW: Did he not know we were once engaged?!?
ALT: Of course, but I don’t think it really clicked in his mind until last night. He associates you with his tech crowd, so he couldn’t really conceive of the two of us actually knowing each other. You really boosted my street cred!
CW: He’s a nice chap. And congrats again on his award. He’s really made some smart moves.
ALT: You should have told him that! Why were you being so quiet last night?
CW: Was I?
ALT: You hardly said a thing and looked like you couldn’t wait to run off.
CW: I was trying to avoid Connie Ming, who’s already trying to commit me to underwriting next year’s ball! And I guess I wasn’t expecting to see you there.
ALT: Of course I would be there to support Michael!
CW: Yes, but I thought you didn’t do charity galas, especially in Hong Kong. Wasn’t it the rule in your family never to attend these big to-dos?
ALT: The rule is more relaxed now that I’m a boring housewife. When I was younger, my parents didn’t want pictures of me appearing everywhere for their paranoid security reasons, and they didn’t want me to associate with the fast party crowd—the “International Chinese Trash” as Mum called it.
CW: People like me.
ALT: LOL!
CW: Last night was especially bad. Lots of people your mum wouldn’t approve of.
ALT: It wasn’t so bad.
CW: Really? I saw you were seated at Ada Poon’s table.
ALT: Okay, I confess—THAT was awful.
CW: Hahaha!
ALT: Ada and her tai tai*2 friends totally froze me out for the first hour.
CW: Did you tell them you were from Singapore?
ALT: Michael’s bio was in the programme, and everyone knew I was his wife. I know Hong Kongers have become a bit touchy ever since Singapore’s airport was voted the world’s best.
CW: Well, in my opinion we still have better shopping at our airport. Who needs a free cinema or an orchid garden when you can go from Loewe to Longchamp in less than ten steps? Anyway, the real reason the ladies gave you the cold shoulder was because you didn’t go to St. Paul’s, St. Stephen’s, or Diocesan’s. They didn’t know where to rank you in their hierarchy.
ALT: But there is such a thing as common courtesy. We’re at an event for charity, for chrissake. All the ladies could not stop trying to outdo each other bragging about the huge fines they all had to pay on their illegal basements. It was such a bore. But then after the duchess made her speech, she came right up to my table and said, “Astrid! I thought that was you! What are you doing here? I’m seeing your parents for lunch next week at Stoker and Amanda’s. Will you be at Chatsworth too?” And that’s all it took. Suddenly the tai tais could not leave me alone.
CW: I bet they couldn’t!
ALT: Hong Kong women fascinate me. The style here really is so different than in Singapore. It’s a studied opulence that’s just breathtaking to behold. I don’t think I’ve seen SO MUCH jewelry in one room at one time. Truly felt like the Russian Revolution, when all the aristocrats were fleeing the country with every piece of jewelry they had, some sewn into their clothing.
CW: They really piled it on, didn’t they? What did you think of all those tiaras?
ALT: I don’t think a woman should wear a tiara unless it’s been in her family for several generations.
CW: Not sure if you look at our gossip columns, but there is this fool named Leonardo Lai…
ALT: Haha, yes! My cousin Cecilia just sent me the article.
CW: Leonardo obviously had NO CLUE who you were and couldn’t even get your name right, but he’s apparently concerned that you don’t have enough jewelry. LOL!
ALT: I’m so glad he misspelled my name! Mum would be furious to see me in the gossip columns. I guess Leonardo wasn’t impressed by pieces from the actual Imperial collection—my earrings used to belong to Dowager Empress Maria Feodorovna.
CW: Of course they did. I noticed them immediately—they looked like something I would have bought you back in our London days, from that little vintage jewelry shop in the Burlington Arcade that you loved poking around in. You were the best-dressed woman at the ball, no contest.
ALT: You’re too sweet. But come on, I did not go all out like some of those Hong Kong fashionistas who wore specially commissioned gowns in the style of Catherine the Great or whomever.
CW: You’ve always dressed to please yourself—that’s precisely why you looked great. You and Kitty Pong, of course.
ALT: You’re funny. I actually thought she looked fantastic! Her dress was very Josephine Baker.
CW: She was naked except for all those feathers and emeralds.
ALT: The dress worked. But stealing the spotlight from Francis Poon was rather shameless. I was afraid poor old Francis was going to have a heart attack when she rushed onstage and grabbed the microphone from him while he was trying to make his speech!
CW: Ada Poon should have jumped up and slapped Kitty Pong just like any good third wife would.
ALT: She was too weighed down by all that jewelry to do any jumping.
CW: I really do wonder what’s happened to Bernard Tai. Why is Kitty everywhere but he’s not? Is he even still alive?
ALT: She’s probably got him chained up in a dungeon somewhere with a ball gag in his mouth!
CW: Astrid Leong! You shock me!
ALT: Sorry, I’ve been reading too much Marquis de Sade lately. Dare I ask where YOUR wife was? Am I ever going to meet the legendary Isabel Wu?
CW: Isabel is too snotty to go to events like these. She only goes to two or three of the old-guard balls every year.
ALT: LOL! Old-guard balls. I don’t even want to tell you what just came into my head!
CW: Sir Francis Poon?
ALT: You’re terrible! Oh—my cousin’s waving me over. It’s boarding time.
CW: Why you still fly commercial I’ll never understand.
ALT: We’re Leongs, that’s why. My dad thinks it would be shameful if the family is seen flying private since he is a “public servant.” And he claims it’s far safer in a big commercial airliner than in a small one.
CW: I think it’s much safer on your own plane, with a dedicated ground crew. You get there in half the time and feel less jet lag.
ALT: I don’t ever get jet lag, remember? Also, we don’t have Charlie Wu $$$.
CW: That’s a funny one! You Leongs could buy me for breakfast any day. Anyway, have a good flight.
ALT: Nice chatting. Next time we’re in HK, I promise I’ll give you more notice.
CW: Okay.
ALT: Michael and I will take you to dinner. There’s this great Teochew place in Hutchison House that my cousin keeps telling me about.
CW: No, no, no—my town, my treat.
ALT: We’ll fight about it later. xo.