“Nicky!” Astrid squealed. “But I thought you and Rachel were in China.”

“We were, but we flew to Paris on the spur of the moment with Rachel’s brother and some new friends. Oh, speak of the devil, here’s Carlton. Carlton, this is my cousin Astrid from Singapore.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” Astrid extended her hand to Carlton, who was completely stunned by the sudden turn of events. This extraordinary creature he was about to hit on was Nick’s cousin?

“And this is my great friend, Mehmet,” Nick said, introducing Carlton. “You rascal—what are you doing hanging out with my cousin in Paris?”

Mehmet patted Nick on the back heartily. “It’s a complete coincidence! I’m here on business, and we ran into each other at Le Voltaire. I was sitting down at a lunch meeting and who should come through the door but Charlotte Gainsbourg…with Astrid! Of course I had to say hello—I couldn’t resist making all my associates sick with envy. Then Astrid invited me to dinner, and I talked her into making this pit stop.”

By this point, Rachel and Colette had joined the group. “Astrid! Mehmet? This can’t be happening!” Rachel shrieked, hugging both of them in utter delight.

Colette was introduced all around, and she couldn’t help but scrutinize every inch of Astrid. So this was the couture-wearing cousin that Rachel had told her about. Astrid’s sexy gold sandals she recognized as being handmade in Capri by Da Costanzo. Her white patent-leather clutch was vintage Courrèges. Her gold Etruscan-style cuff bracelet with the facing lion heads were Lalaounis. But that little white pleated dress she just couldn’t place. My God, it was perfection, the way the linen skimmed her body, just tight enough to drive all the men wild but not so tight it looked vulgar. And those sundial pleats at the neckline to accentuate the sensuality of the collarbone—pure genius. She just HAD to know who designed it.

“I am a fashion blogger—would you mind if I took a picture of you?” she asked.

“Colette’s being modest. She is THE most popular fashion blogger in China,” Nick bragged.

“Um, of course,” Astrid replied in surprise.

“Roxanne!” Colette yelled. Her trusty assistant came running over and snapped a few pictures of Colette and Astrid posing together. Then Roxanne began to take notes as Colette quizzed Astrid on everything she was wearing.

“Now, I just need some caption info. I recognize your shoes and your handbag, of course, and the bracelets are Lalaounis—”

“Actually, they’re not,” Astrid interrupted.

“Oh. Who did them?”

“They’re Etruscan.”

“I know, but who designed them?”

“I have no idea. They were made in 650 BC.”

Colette stared in wonder at the museum artifacts dangling so casually on Astrid’s wrists. Now she wanted some herself. “Okay then, most important, tell me which genius designed your fabulous dress. It’s Josep Font, isn’t it?”

“Oh, this? I bought it today at Zara.”

For the rest of her life, Roxanne would never forget the look on Colette’s face.

? ? ?

A few hours later, Rachel and Nick found themselves having a late supper with Astrid and Mehmet at Monsieur Bleu, the brasserie tucked away at the back of the Palais de Tokyo. As Rachel took the first bite of her sole meunière, she looked around the room, taking in the intriguing light fixtures, the marble-backed banquettes, and the shimmering bronze bas-reliefs. “Astrid, we’ve been eating at super-fancy places all week, but this is by far my favorite meal. Thanks for bringing us here.”

Mehmet chimed in. “I quite agree! There’s something about this place that manages to be simple and yet envelopingly luxurious at the same time. It doesn’t compete with the food, but one does feel more special just being here.”

Astrid smiled. “I’m so happy you all like it. I wanted to come here because I’m thinking of commissioning the architect of this space—Joseph Dirand—to build our next house. It’s actually why I came to Paris.”

“I can’t wait to see what he does for you,” Mehmet said.

“Didn’t you just move into a new house last year?” Nick asked.

“We did, but we’re quickly outgrowing it. We almost bought a historic Frank Brewer house on Cluny Park Road, but it fell through at the last minute. So we’ve decided to build on a piece of land I have in Bukit Timah.”

Nick looked around the table and chuckled. “I still can’t believe the four of us are here together. It’s such a small world!”

“And to think, I almost wanted to skip the party. But with my family doing business with the Yangs, I felt like I needed to show my face,” Mehmet said.

“I’m so glad we went,” Astrid said. “It was total serendipity! I’m just sorry your brother and his girlfriend couldn’t join us.”

“I think Carlton wanted to, but he felt obligated to stay at the party with Colette. And she couldn’t leave, being the guest of honor.”

“Colette’s quite a character. I’ve never had someone want to know about every single thing I’m wearing. I was half afraid she was going to end up asking what brand of underwear I had on.”

“She very well might have, if she hadn’t been so shocked that you bought your dress at Zara!” Rachel laughed.

“I don’t know why anyone would be shocked by that. I buy clothes everywhere—vintage shops, street vendors…”

“Colette and her friends live and breathe for high fashion. Frankly, I’ve hit my limit with them,” Nick admitted.

“It has been nonstop shopping since the minute we arrived. It was fascinating for the first couple of days, but then it just got tedious,” Rachel explained. “I don’t want to complain, since Colette’s been so generous with us, but I only came because I thought I’d get to spend more time with my brother.”

Astrid leaned closer in. “What’s it been like getting to know your new family?”

“Quite frustrating, actually. I’ve only managed to see my father once since arriving in China.”

“Only once?”

“We can’t quite figure out what’s happening, but we think it has something to do with my father’s wife. We haven’t met her at all since setting foot in China. Rather odd, don’t you think?”

“Maybe you should take a break from China and come down to Singapore for a week,” Astrid suggested.

Nick’s brow furrowed. It was already challenging enough getting Rachel through this trip with her family. He didn’t want to complicate things any further by going to Singapore and facing all those minefields. Where would he and Rachel even stay?

As if reading his mind, Astrid said, “You’re welcome to stay with me. Cassian would be thrilled to see you. As I’m sure many others will,” she couldn’t help adding.

Nick went quiet for a few moments, and Rachel didn’t know quite what to say.

“Or you two could always come back to Istanbul with me,” Mehmet said, breaking the awkward silence.

“Ohh! I would love to visit Istanbul!” Rachel said.

“It’s only three hours from Paris on my plane, and we’re having the most glorious weather this summer,” Mehmet said tantalizingly. “You should come too, Astrid. Come for a few days.”

? ? ?

After dinner, the four of them strolled leisurely along the terrace steps of the Palais de Tokyo leading up to avenue du Président Wilson. Rachel checked her phone and saw that Colette had left a number of text messages.

10:26 p.m.—Sat.

Is Carlton with you at restaurant?

10:57 p.m.—Sat.

If Carlton calls you, please let me know!

11:19 p.m.—Sat.

Never mind…found him.

11:47 p.m.—Sat.

Please call me ASAP.

12:28 a.m.—Sun.

URGENT!!! CALL ME PLEASE!!!

Rachel gasped upon reading the last message and immediately dialed Colette’s cell number.

“Hello?” a muffled-sounding voice answered.

“Colette? It’s Rachel. Is this Colette?”

“Rachel! Oh my God! Where have you been? Where are you?”

“What’s wrong, Colette? What happened?” Rachel said, alarmed by Colette’s near-hysterical tone.

“It’s Carlton…You must help me. Please.”

* * *

* An exceedingly rare Patek Philippe 18K gold single-button chronograph with a vertically positioned register and sector dial. Ref. 130, manufactured in 1928, given to Nick by his grandmother when he turned twenty-one.

18

THE SHANGRI-LA

PARIS, FRANCE

“Oh thank God you’re here! Thank God!” Colette cried as she opened the door, letting Rachel, Nick, Astrid, and Mehmet into her sprawling duplex suite. Rachel gave her a concerned hug, and Colette immediately broke down in sobs against her shoulder.

“Are you okay? Is Carlton okay?” Rachel asked, leading the suddenly fragile girl to the nearest sofa.

“Where’s everyone?” Nick asked, noticing that Colette was unusually sans entourage.

“I told everyone I was exhausted and sent them to their rooms. I couldn’t let them find out what was happening!”

“What is happening?” Rachel asked.