“I like the grounds, but tell me what’s so special about this house—it’s not like it’s one of those historic Black and Whites.”

“Oh, it’s much rarer than a Black and White house,” Carmen said. “This is one of the few houses built by Frank Brewer, one of Singapore’s most prominent early architects. He designed the Cathay Building. Come, let’s take a walk around the outside first.”

As they circled the house, Astrid began pointing out the distinctive half-timbered gables that gave the house its stately, Tudor-esque feel, the elegant exposed-brick arches in the porte cochere, and other ingenious details like the Mackintosh-inspired ventilation grilles that kept the rooms feeling cool even in the sweltering tropical heat. “See how it combines the Arts and Crafts esthetic with Charles Rennie Mackintosh and Spanish Mission style? You’re not going to find such a fusion of architectural styles in one house anywhere else on the planet.”

“It’s nice, hon, but you’re probably the only person in Singapore who would even care about those details! Who lived here before your relatives?” he asked Carmen.

“It was built originally in 1922 for the chairman of Fraser and Neave, and later it became the Belgian ambassador’s residence,” Carmen replied, adding rather unnecessarily: “This is a rare chance to own one of Singapore’s truly historic gems.”

The three of them entered the house, and as they wandered through the elegantly proportioned rooms, Michael began to appreciate the place more and more. “I like how high the ceilings are on the ground floor.”

“It’s a bit creaky in places, but I know just the architect to help give this place a gentle restoration—he worked on my uncle Alfred’s place in Surrey and just redid Dumfries House in Scotland for the Prince of Wales,” Astrid said.

Standing in the living room, with sunlight flooding through the oriole windows and casting origami shadows onto the parquet wood floors, Michael was suddenly reminded of the drawing room at Tyersall Park and the feeling of unutterable awe that came over him the first time he entered that room to meet Astrid’s grandmother. He had originally envisioned his new house as something resembling the contemporary wing of a museum, but now he had another vision of himself in thirty years as a silver-haired eminence, presiding over this grand and historic showplace as business colleagues from all over the world came to pay their respects. He pounded his hand against one of the buttressed walls and said to Astrid, “I like all this old stonework. This house feels rock solid, not like your father’s rickety Black and White.”

“I’m glad you like it. It has a very different feel from my father’s place,” Astrid said measuredly.

It’s also bigger than your father’s house, Michael thought. He could already imagine what his brothers would say when they drove up: Wah lan eh, ji keng choo seeee baaay tua!*5 He turned to Carmen and asked, “So, what will it take to get the keys to the front door?”

Carmen considered his question for a moment. “On the open market, this house would go for sixty-five, seventy million, easily. You’d have to make a compelling enough offer for the family to stop the listing tomorrow morning.”

Michael stood at the top of the staircase and fingered the carved woodwork on the banister. Its art deco sunrays reminded him of the Chrysler building. “C. K. Wong had four children, right? I’ll offer seventy-four. This way every sibling gets an extra million for their trouble.”

“Let me just call my cousin Geik Choo,” Carmen said, reaching into her Saint Laurent handbag for her phone and walking discreetly out of the living room.

A few minutes later, she returned. “My cousin thanks you for the offer. But factoring in stamp duties and my commission, the family is going to need more. At eighty million, you have a deal.”

“I knew you were going to say that,” Michael said with a laugh. He looked over at Astrid and said, “Honey, how badly do you want this?”

Wait a minute—it’s you who wants to move, Astrid thought. Instead, she said, “I will be very happy in this house if you are.”

“Okay then, eighty it is.”

Carmen smiled. This was so much easier than she had imagined. She disappeared into a bedroom down the hallway again to call her cousin back.

“How much do you think it’s going to take to decorate this place?” Michael asked Astrid.

“Really depends on what we want to do. It reminds me of the sort of country houses you see in the Cotswolds, so I could picture some simple English pieces mixed with Geoffrey Bennison fabrics perhaps. I think it would go well with your historic artifacts and some of my Chinese antiques. And downstairs, maybe we can—”

“The entire downstairs is going to be converted into a state-of-the-art car museum for my collection,” Michael interrupted.

“All of it?”

“Of course. That’s the first thing I pictured when I walked in the front door. I was like, let’s tear all these reception rooms down and make it one vast hall. Then I could put car turntables into the floor. It will be so cool to see my cars revolving around between all those columns.”

Astrid looked at him, waiting for him to say, Just kidding, but then she realized he was dead serious. “If that’s what you want,” she finally managed to squeak out.

“Now, what is taking that friend of yours so long? Don’t tell me those Wongs are getting greedy and want to take me for another ride.”

Just then, Carmen reentered the room, looking rather flushed in the face. “I’m sorry—I hope I wasn’t shouting too loudly?”

“No. What happened?” Astrid asked.

“Er, I don’t quite know how to say this, but I’m afraid the house has been sold to someone else.”

“WHAAAT? I thought we had an exclusive first bid,” Michael said.

“I’m very sorry. I thought you did too. But my asshole cousin Quentin played me out. He used your offer to bid up another one that was already in the works.”

“I’ll top whatever offer your cousin got,” Michael said defiantly.

“I already suggested that, but it’s apparently a done deal. The buyer doubled your price to take the house off the market completely. It sold for $160 million.”

“$160 million? That’s ridiculous! Who the hell bought it?”

“I don’t know. My cousin doesn’t even know. Some limited liability company in China, obviously as a cover.”

“Mainlanders. Of course,” Astrid said softly.

“Kan ni na bu chao chee bye!” *6 Michael shouted, kicking the wooden banister in frustration.

“Michael!” Astrid exclaimed in shock.

“What?” Michael looked at her defiantly. “This is all your damn fault! I can’t believe you would waste my time like this!”

Carmen huffed. “Why are you blaming your wife? If there’s anyone you should be blaming, it’s me.”

“You’re both to blame. Astrid, do you have any idea how busy I was today? You shouldn’t have demanded I drop everything to come see this godforsaken house if it wasn’t really available. Carmen, how the hell did you ever get your real estate license when you can’t even do a simple deal like this? Fucking unbelievable!” Michael swore, before storming out of the house.

Astrid sank down onto the top step of the staircase and buried her head in her hands for a moment. “I am so, so sorry.”

“Astrid, please, you have nothing to apologize for. I’m sorry.”

“Is the banister okay?” Astrid asked, gently patting the scuff mark that Michael’s foot had left.

“The banister will be fine. I’m a little more worried about you, to tell the truth.”

“I’m perfectly fine. I think this is a beautiful house, but to be honest, I couldn’t have cared less if we lived here or not.”

“I’m not talking about that. I’m just…” Carmen paused for a moment, pondering whether to open a Pandora’s box. “I’m just wondering what happened to you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Okay, I’m going to be very frank with you because we’re such old friends: I can’t believe the way Michael talks to you, and how you let him get away with it.”

“Tsk, that was nothing. Michael just got angry for a moment because he got outbid. He’s used to getting what he wants.”

“You don’t say. But I’m not referring to the fit he threw before he stormed out. I didn’t like the way he was talking to you from the moment he arrived.”

“How do you mean?”