China Rich Girlfriend

by Kevin Kwan

  “You’re very late! Now we will be noticed when we enter, as opposed to blending in with the crowd,” Corinna scolded.

  “I’m sorry—this whole church thing has got me so nervous, I changed six times. Does this look okay?” Kitty asked, readjusting the pleats on her skirt.

  Corinna scrutinized her for a moment. “The cross might be overdoing it a bit for your first visit, but I will let it pass. Otherwise, it looks quite appropriate—you no longer remind me of Daphne Guinness.”

  “The church is inside this office building?” Kitty asked, a little confused as they entered the peach-marble-clad lobby of Glory Tower.

  “I told you, this is a very special church,” Corinna replied as they went up an escalator to the main reception hall. There, a greeting table draped with ruffled blue bunting was manned by a trio of teenage greeters and several security guards. An American girl with a headset and an iPad came bounding toward them with a big toothy grin. “Good morning! Are you joining us for the main service or the Seekers’ Class?”

  “The main service,” Corinna answered.

  “Your names, please?”

  “Corinna Ko-Tung and Kitty—I mean—Katherine Tai,” Corinna replied, using the name Kitty had used before she became a soap-opera star.

  The girl scrolled through her iPad and said, “I’m sorry, I don’t see you on the list for Sunday services.”

  “Oh, I forgot to mention—we’re guests of Helen Mok-Asprey.”

  “Okay, yes, I see you here. Helen Mok-Asprey plus two.”

  A female security guard approached and presented each of them with lanyards with freshly printed name badges attached in plastic sleeves. Printed in a vibrant purple font were the words “Stratosphere Church Sunday Worship—Guest of Helen Mok-Asprey,” followed by the church’s motto in italics: Communing with Christ at a Higher Level.

  “Put these on and take the first elevator up to the forty-fifth floor,” the guard instructed.

  When Kitty and Corinna reached the forty-fifth floor, another greeter with a headset stood waiting to escort them to an elevator bank across the hall, this one taking them up to the seventy-ninth floor.

  “We’re almost there—just one more set of elevators,” Corinna said as she straightened the collar on Kitty’s dress.

  “Are we going all the way to the top?”

  “The very top. See—I told you to be early precisely because it takes fifteen minutes just to get up there.”

  “All this trouble for a church!” Kitty grumbled.

  “Kitty, you are about to enter the most exclusive church in Hong Kong—Stratosphere was started by the billionaire Pentecostal Siew sisters, and it is strictly by invitation. Not only is it the highest church in the world, at ninety-nine storys above the earth, but it boasts more members on the South China Morning Post’s rich list than any other private club on the island.”

  With that introduction, the elevator doors opened onto the ninety-ninth floor, and Kitty was momentarily blinded by the light. She found herself standing in the apex of the tower under a soaring atrium, its cathedral-like ceilings constructed almost entirely of glass flooding the space with intense sunlight. Kitty wanted to put on her sunglasses, but she suspected this would elicit another scolding from Corinna.

  The next thing to assault her senses was the blaring rock music. As they took a seat in one of the back rows, Kitty saw hundreds of worshippers with their hands raised and waving in unison as they sang along to the Christian rock band. The band was made up of a strapping blond lead singer who could have passed for a Hemsworth brother, a Chinese female drummer with a buzz cut, another white guy on bass guitar, three college-age Chinese girls singing backup, and a scrawny teenage Chinese boy in a green Izod shirt three sizes too big pounding away frantically on a Yamaha keyboard.

  Everyone sang: “Jesus Christ, come into me! Jesus Christ, come fill me up!”

  Kitty took in the whole spectacle with childlike awe—none of this was anything like what she ever imagined a Christian church service to be: the celestial light, the thumping music, the hunky rock god onstage, and best of all, the view. From her seat, she had a jaw-dropping bird’s-eye view of Hong Kong Island, from Pacific Place mall in Admiralty all the way to North Point. If this wasn’t heaven on earth, what was? She took out her phone and began snapping a few covert pictures. She had never seen the top of 2IFC up close before.

  “What on earth do you think you’re doing? Put that away! You’re in the house of God!” Corinna hissed into her ear.

  Kitty put away her phone red-faced, but whispered to Corinna, “You lied to me—look how everyone is dressed to the nines except me!” Kitty said, pointing to the young woman in the front row in a white Chanel suit, the three enormous Bulgari gemstone rings on her fingers sparkling brightly as she waved her arms back and forth.

  “She’s the pastor’s wife. She is entitled to dress like that, but as a new visitor, you can’t.”

  Kitty was aggravated at first, but as she gazed at the gigantic cumulus clouds in the crisp azure sky, with the roar of the catchy chorus in her ears and everyone around her singing their guts out, she began to feel strange new emotions stirring within. The dapper guy in the hounds-tooth jacket and tight Saint Laurent jeans next to her was screeching off-key, “Everything I need is right here, Jesus! Everything I neeeeed,” tears of joy streaming down his face. She found it strangely sexy to see this young hipster crying so openly. After half an hour of singing, the blond lead singer—who turned out to be the pastor—said to the congregation in an American accent, “It fills me with so much joy to see all your bright happy faces today. Let’s share the love! Let’s share the joy by passing it along to the person next to you! How about that?”

  Before Kitty knew what was happening, the crying hipster turned to her and gave her a big bear hug. Then the middle-aged tai tai in front of her turned around and embraced her warmly. Kitty was stunned. Hong Kongers—hugging each other! How was this possible? And not just one or two friends who knew each other. Perfect strangers were hugging each other and introducing themselves. This was a miracle. My God, if this was what it was like to be a Christian, she wanted in right now!

  • • •

  When the service finally concluded, Corinna turned to Kitty. “At last, time for coffee and cake. Follow me.”

  “I don’t want to spoil my appetite. Aren’t we going to Cuisine Cuisine for lunch?”

  “Kitty, the whole reason I brought you here is so you can socialize with these people over coffee and cake. This is the main event. Many of the members are the younger generation of Hong Kong old-guard families, and this is the best chance you have of getting to know them. They will be much more accepting of you because they are born-again Christians.”

  “Born again? How can you be born twice?”

  “Hiyah, I’ll explain later. But the important thing you need to know about being a born-again Christian is that once you repent and accept Jesus into your heart, you are forgiven for all your sins no matter what they are. Whether you murdered your parents, slept with your stepson, or embezzled millions to fund your singing career—these people have to forgive you. Now what I hope to accomplish today is to get you into one of the Bible Study Fellowships. The group that everyone wants to join is Helen Mok-Asprey’s, but it’s a very closed circle of only the top ladies. To begin with, I would aim for the group led by my niece Justina Wei. It’s a younger crowd, and there are quite a few girls from good families in that one. Justina’s paternal grandfather, Wei Ra Men, started Yummy Cup Noodles, so everyone calls her the Instant Noodle Heiress.”

  Kitty was steered toward a moon-faced woman in her early thirties. She couldn’t believe that this person dressed in a secretary-like navy pantsuit was the noodle heiress she had heard so much about. “Justina—hiyah, gum noi moh gin!*1 Meet my friend Katherine Tai.”

  “Hello. Are you related to Stephen Tai?” Justina asked, immediately trying to place Kitty on her social map.

  “Um, no.”<
br />
  Justina, who was usually only comfortable talking to people she knew from birth, was forced to resort to her default question. “So, which school did you go to?”

  “I didn’t go to school in Hong Kong,” Kitty responded, a little flustered. Justina’s long, frizzy, limp hair reminded her of instant noodles. She wondered what would happen if you poured boiling water over them and let them sit for three minutes.

  “Katherine went to school abroad,” Corinna quickly interjected.

  “Oh—is this your first time worshipping with us?” Justina cocked her head.

  “Yes.”

  “Well then, welcome to Stratosphere. Which church do you normally attend?”

  Kitty tried to think of all the churches she passed every single day on the way down from her apartment on The Peak, but her mind temporarily went blank. “Er, the Church of Volturi,” she blurted out, picturing the church-like space from the Twilight movies where those scary old vampires sat on thrones.

  “Oh, I don’t know that one. Is it over on Kowloon side?”

  “Yes it is,” Corinna said, coming to the rescue again. “I really must introduce Kit—I mean Katherine to Helen Mok-Asprey. I see Helen already grabbing the flowers from the church altar, so I know she’s about to leave.”

  Pulling Kitty off to the side, Corinna said, “My God, that was an utter disaster! What is wrong with you today? Where is the girl who charmed the socks off Evangeline de Ayala?”

  “Sorry, sorry, I don’t know what’s happening. I guess I’m just not used to all this—my new name, pretending to be a Christian, dressing this way. Without my normal makeup or proper jewelry, I feel like I don’t have my armor on. People always used to ask me about what I was wearing, and now I can’t even talk about that.”

  Corinna shook her head in dismay. “You’re an actress! It’s time you put your improv skills to the test. Just think of it as playing a new role. Remember, you are no longer the evil twin sister. You are the good wife now. You spend all your time taking care of your invalid husband and your young daughter, and this is the only time all week you get to socialize with people. So you must be animated and grateful. Now let’s try again with Helen Mok-Asprey. Helen was born a Mok, divorced a Quek, and is now married to Sir Harold Asprey. You should address her as Lady Asprey.”

  Corinna steered Kitty toward the hospitality table, where a woman with an enormous coiffed helmet of hair was furtively wrapping up six enormous slices of Black Forest cake in paper napkins and stuffing them into her big black Oroton handbag. “Helen, thank you so much for putting us on your list today!” Corinna chirped.

  Helen jumped a little. “Oh, hi, Corinna. I’m just taking home a little bit of cake for Harold. You know what a sweet tooth he has.”

  “Yes, Harold’s just like you when it comes to sweets, isn’t he? Before you leave, I wanted to introduce my guest Katherine Tai. Katherine used to belong to the Volturi Church in Kowloon, but she’s thinking of changing.”

  “I love your church! Thank you so much for inviting us today, Lady Asprey,” Kitty said sweetly.

  Helen looked Kitty up and down. “What a lovely little cross that is,” she complimented, before turning to Corinna and saying, sotto voce, “I had one very similar to that, but I think one of the new maids stole it. Those new girls from youknowwhere are just so untrustworthy. My God, I miss my Norma and Natty. You know, I paid them so well that now they’ve abandoned me to start a beach bar in Cebu.”

  A lady chicly attired in a celadon-colored A-line dress came up to the table with two carafes freshly refilled with coffee. “My goodness, what happened to all the cake? I guess I have to go down to the kitchen again.” She sighed.

  “Oh Fi—before you run off, meet my friend Katherine Tai. Katherine, this is my cousin Fiona Tung-Cheng,” Corinna said.

  “Pleased to meet you, Katherine,” Fiona said, before giving Kitty a more discerning look. “You look so familiar. Are you by any chance related to Stephen Tai?”

  “They’re distant cousins,” Corinna cut in, trying to stop her from asking more questions.

  Kitty smiled calmly at Fiona and said, “You know I just adore your dress. Narciso Rodriguez, isn’t it?”

  “Why yes, thank you,” Fiona beamed. It wasn’t often that anyone complimented her clothes.

  “I met him a few years ago,” Kitty continued, ignoring Corinna’s glare. She was going to talk about fashion at church even if it gave Corinna a stroke.

  “Really? You met Narciso?” Fiona said.

  “Yes, I went to his fashion show in New York. Don’t you think it’s wonderful that a boy from a family of Cuban immigrants can become such a successful fashion designer? It’s like the message of today’s sermon—anyone with a willing heart can be born again.”

  Helen Mok-Asprey beamed in approval. “How true. My goodness, why don’t you join my Bible study group? We could use another fresh young perspective like yours.”

  Kitty’s face lit up, as Corinna looked on like a proud mother. My God, Kitty had hit pay dirt on her very first try! Maybe Corinna had misjudged her capabilities. At this rate, Kitty was bound to win the ladies over at Bible study and would be getting invited to all sorts of other old-guard events by the time the festive season began.

  Just then, Eddie Cheng came strolling over to his wife, Fiona. “Are you done with your coffee duties yet?” Turning to Helen and Corinna, he bragged, “We are expected to lunch at the Ladoories, and it would be very bad form to be late.”

  “I’m almost finished. I just need to make one more kitchen run for cake—it’s disappeared so fast today. Eddie, meet Corinna’s friend Katherine.”

  Eddie made an obligatory nod in Kitty’s direction.

  “Help me with the cake and then we can get out of here faster,” Fiona said. Walking toward the kitchen with Eddie, she said, “That nice lady is going to join our Bible study. I love her dress. If only you would let me wear a bright color like that.”

  Eddie stared at Kitty again, suddenly narrowing his eyes. “What did you say her name was again?”

  “Katherine Tai—she’s a distant cousin of Stephen’s.”

  Eddie snorted. “Maybe on Mars they might be related, but here on earth they certainly aren’t. Take a good look at her, Fi.”

  Fiona stared searchingly at Kitty’s face. Suddenly she let out a gasp of recognition and dropped the empty metal cake tray onto the floor with a loud clang. All eyes in the room were on them. Relishing the attention, Eddie made a beeline to where Corinna, Kitty, and Helen were standing and announced smugly, “Corinna, I know you have always tried to take on these charity cases, but this time you’ve really been had. This woman who’s trying to pass herself off as Stephen Tai’s cousin is an imposter. She’s actually Kitty Pong—the gold digger who broke my brother Alistair’s heart and eloped with Bernard Tai two years ago. Hello, Kitty.”

  Kitty lowered her eyes. Stung with hurt, she wasn’t quite sure how to react. Why was she being called an imposter? None of this was her doing—Corinna was the one who had told Fiona she was related to this Stephen person. She turned to Corinna, hoping she would come to her defense, but the woman just stood there.

  Helen Mok-Asprey glared at Kitty and said in a sharp voice, “You’re that Kitty Pong? Carol Tai is a good friend of mine. What have you done with her son? And why won’t you let Carol see her own granddaughter? Gum hak sum!”*2

  * * *

  *1 Cantonese for “Long time no see.”

  *2 Cantonese for “so black-hearted.”

  12

  ASTRID

  SINGAPORE

  “Are you going for a run now?” Astrid asked Michael as he came downstairs in nothing but a pair of black Puma running shorts.

  “Yeah, I need to blow off some steam.”

  “Don’t forget we have Friday-night dinner in an hour.”

  “I’ll join you later.”

  “We can’t be late tonight. My Thai cousins Adam and Piya are visiting, and the Thai ambassador has ar
ranged a special perform—”

  “I don’t give a fuck about your Thai cousins!” Michael snapped as he ran out the door.

  He’s still upset. Astrid got up from the sofa and headed upstairs to her study. She logged on to Gmail and saw Charlie’s name lit up. Thank God. She immediately pinged him:

  ASTRID LEONG TEO: Still at work?

  CHARLIE WU: Yup. Never leave my office these days, except for juice breaks.

  ALT: Question for you…when you are in the midst of negotiating major deals with potential clients, do you also entertain them?

  CW: What do you mean by “entertain”?

  ALT: Do you take them out to business dinners?

  CW: LOL! I thought you meant get them laid! Yes, there are always business dinners…more lunches actually. We sometimes do a celebratory dinner when a deal closes. Why?

  ALT: I’m just trying to educate myself. It’s funny—I’ve had to deal with all kinds of social events with intricate protocols my whole life, but when it comes to the corporate dinner, I’m totally ignorant.

  CW: Well, you’ve never had to be a corporate wife.

  ALT: Does Isabel usually come to your work dinners?

  CW: Isabel at a client dinner? Ha! Hell would freeze over. Client entertaining rarely involves spouses.

  ALT: Even for international clients who are visiting Asia?

  CW: When international clients come to Asia, they generally don’t bring their wives. Back in my dad’s time in the 1980s and ’90s, yes, maybe some wives wanted to come to Hong Kong or Singapore to shop. But not so much anymore. On the rare occasions that they do, we really try to roll out the red carpet, so that clients can concentrate on work and not worry that their wives are getting ripped off at Stanley Market.

  ALT: So you don’t feel that a crucial component of deal-making involves a “dinner with the wives.”