“Wo de tian ah!* You’ll be thirty-three. What will happen to your eggs? Your eggs will get old and your babies might be born retarded or deformed!” Mrs. Bing screeched.
“Mother, stop being so ridiculous! With all the damn doctors you see every day, you should know that such things don’t happen anymore. They have special genetic tests now, and women are having babies well into their forties!”
“Listen to her!” Mrs. Bing said incredulously to her husband.
Jack leaned forward in his chair and remarked wryly, “I don’t think this has anything to do with age, actually. I think our daughter is in love with Carlton Bao.”
“Even if I was, I wouldn’t want to get married to him right now,” Colette shot back.
“And what makes you think I would ever approve of your marrying him?”
Colette looked at her father in exasperation. “Why is Richie so much more special than Carlton? They both have degrees from top universities, and both come from respectable families. Why, I’d even say that Carlton comes from a higher-status family than Richie.”
Mrs. Bing harrumphed. “I don’t like that Bao Shaoyen. Always acting so uppity, like she’s so much better and smarter than me!”
“That’s because she IS smarter than you, Mother. She has a PhD in biochemistry and runs a multibillion-dollar company.”
“How dare you say that to me! Don’t you think I’m partly responsible for your father’s success? I was the one who spent all those years—”
Raising his voice to be heard over his arguing wife and daughter, Jack interjected, “CARLTON BAO’S family has two billion dollars at most. The Yangs are on a whole other level. Our level. Don’t you see that this is the perfect dynastic match? The two of you together would make our families the most powerful and influential in China. Do you not see the unique position that you are in to be part of history?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that I was a chess piece in your plan for world domination,” Colette shot back sarcastically.
Jack banged his fist on the desk and stood up from his chair, pointing at her angrily. “You are not my chess piece! You are my prized possession. And I want to see that you are treated like a queen and married off to the best possible man in the whole world!”
“But the fact that I don’t agree with your idea of the best man means nothing to you!”
“Well if Carlton Bao is the best man for you, then why hasn’t he proposed to you?” Jack challenged her.
“Oh, he’ll propose whenever I want him to. Don’t you understand? I keep telling you, I’m just not ready! WHEN I want to get married and IF I choose Carlton, you can be sure he will exceed your expectations. The Baos might have more money than the Yangs by then. You have no idea how smart Carlton is! Once he really devotes his attention to his family’s business, there’s no telling how well he can do.”
“Is that going to happen in my lifetime? Your mother and I are not getting any younger—I want to see my grandsons grow up while we are still healthy enough to enjoy them!”
Colette’s eyes narrowed as she stared at her father, seeing things in a whole new light. “So this is what it’s really all about…you are just dying for grandsons, aren’t you?”
“Of course! What grandparents wouldn’t want lots and lots of grandsons?” Mrs. Bing said.
“This is just too funny…it’s like I’m trapped in some time warp.” Colette laughed to herself. “And what if I only produce girls? What if I don’t want any children at all?”
“Don’t talk nonsense,” her mother snapped.
Colette was about to argue back when it hit her—her mother’s very name, Lai Di, meant “hoping for a son.” Her mother couldn’t escape her mind-set—it had literally been branded on her since the day she was born. Colette looked at her parents squarely and said, “The two of you might have grown up like peasants, but I am not a peasant, and you did not raise me to be one. It is 2013, and I am not going to get married and pump out babies just because you want a barrel full of grandsons.”
“Ungrateful child! After all we’ve given you in life!” Mrs. Bing blurted out.
“Yes, thank you, you’ve given me a great life, and I intend to live it!” Colette declared, storming out of the room.
Jack gave a sharp little laugh. “Let’s see how she intends to live her life once I put a freeze on her accounts.”
* * *
* Mandarin for “Oh my God!”
5
PULAU CLUB
SINGAPORE
Michael was huddled in his office preparing for a big presentation with his head venture partner and his chief technology adviser when his phone buzzed with a text message from Astrid:
WIFEY: Mum called—she’s having a meltdown about the magazine article.
MT: Big shocker.
WIFEY: My dad’s requested that you meet him at Pulau club at 10:30 a.m.
MT: Sorry, I’ll be in a meeting then.
WIFEY: You’re going to have to face him sooner or later.
MT: I know, but I’m busy right now. Some of us HAVE TO WORK FOR A LIVING.
WIFEY: I’m just passing along the message.
MT: Tell him I have a very important meeting with the Monetary Authority of Singapore this AM. My assistant will call his assistant to set up another time to meet.
WIFEY: Okay. Good luck at your meeting.
Several minutes later, Michael’s executive assistant, Krystal, buzzed on the intercom. “Michael, ah? I just receive call from your father-in-law’s seck-ree-teh-ry Miss Chua. He wants you to meet him at Pulau Club in half an hour.”
Michael rolled his eyes in frustration. “I already know about this, Krystal. It’s been dealt with. Now, no more interruptions, please. We only have an hour left before our big pitch.”
He turned back to his partners. “Sorry, guys. Now, where were we? Yes, we can reinforce that our new finance-data app is a quarter of a second faster than Bloomberg’s terminals—”
The intercom buzzed again. “Michael—I know you said not to kachiao*1 you, but—”
“So why the hell did you?” Michael raised his voice angrily.
“I just got an-nah-der call…the meeting with gahmen*2 people postpone, lah.”
“The Monetary Authority meeting?” Michael tried to clarify.
“Yah lah.”
“Until what time?”
“Postpone, postpone, lor! They never say.”
“What the fuck?”
“And your father-in-law’s office call again with an-nah-der message. Miss Chua said to read it aloud to you. Wait, ah! I get message. Okay, here it is: Please meet Mr. Leong at Pulau Club at 10:30 a.m. No more excuses.”
“Kan ni nah!” Michael swore, kicking his desk.
? ? ?
Anyone standing at the third hole of the Island Course at Pulau Club—quaintly referred to as the “old course”—would feel as if they were transported back to an earlier time. Carved out of natural virgin jungle in 1930, the undulating green hills gave way to tropical groves of casuarinas and tembusus on one side and the oasis-like Peirce Reservoir on the other. Not a hint of the densely packed skyscrapers that were modern Singapore could be seen from this vantage point. Harry Leong, dressed in his usual golfing outfit of short-sleeved white cotton shirt, khaki pants, and a faded blue Royal Air Force cap*3 to protect his thinning silvery hair, was watching his golf buddy adjust a swing when his son-in-law came storming up the fairway.
“Oh—here he comes, looking blacker than the devil. Let’s have some fun with him, shall we?” Harry said to his friend. “Lovely day, isn’t it?” he called out.
“It might have been, had you not…” Michael began in a surly tone, before catching sight of the man standing next to his father-in-law. It was Hu Lee Shan, the minister of commerce, nattily dressed in a brightly striped Sligo golf shirt.
“Good morning, Mr. Teo,” the minister said jovially.
Forcing a smile, Michael said, “Good morning, sir.” Bloody hell! No wonder he was able to sabotage my meeting so quickly. He’s golfing with the friggin’ boss of the boss of the Monetary Authority!
“Thank you for meeting me on such short notice,” Harry continued politely. “Now, I’ll get right to the point: this matter over the silly magazine story.”