Crazy Rich Asians (2 page)

“Are you sure?” Eleanor asked in surprise.

“Quite sure.” Ormsby grinned tightly.

Felicity Leong joined her sister-in-law at the front desk. “Is there a problem?” she
asked impatiently, eager to get to the room to dry her hair.

“
Alamak
,
^*
they can’t find our reservation,” Eleanor sighed.

“How come? Maybe you booked it under another name?” Felicity inquired.

“No,
lah
. Why would I do that? It was always booked under my name,” Eleanor replied irritatedly.
Why did Felicity always assume she was incompetent? She turned back to the manager.
“Sir, can you please check again? I reconfirmed our reservation just two days ago.
We’re supposed to be in your largest suite.”

“Yes, I know you booked the Lancaster Suite, but I can’t find your name anywhere,”
Ormsby insisted.

“Excuse me, but if you know we booked the Lancaster Suite, why don’t we have the room?”
Felicity asked, confused.

Bloody hell
. Ormsby cursed at his own slip-up. “No, no, you misunderstood.
What I meant was that
you might think
you booked the Lancaster Suite, but I certainly can’t find any record of it.” He
turned away for a moment, pretending to rummage through some other paperwork.

Felicity leaned over the polished oak counter and pulled the leather-bound reservations
book toward her, flipping through pages. “Look! It says right here ‘Mrs. Eleanor Young—Lancaster
Suite for four nights.’ Do you not see this?”

“Madam! That is PRIVATE!” Ormsby snapped in fury, startling his two junior clerks,
who glanced uncomfortably at their manager.

Felicity peered at the balding, red-faced man, the situation suddenly becoming abundantly
clear. She hadn’t seen this particular brand of superior sneer since she was a child
growing up in the waning days of colonial Singapore, and she thought this kind of
overt racism had ceased to exist. “Sir,” she said politely but firmly, “this hotel
came highly recommended to us by Mrs. Mince, the wife of the Anglican Bishop of Singapore,
and I
clearly
saw our name in your registry book. I don’t know what sort of funny business is going
on, but we have traveled a very long way and our children are tired and cold. I
insist
that you honor our reservation.”

Ormsby was indignant. How
dare
this Chinese woman with the Thatcheresque perm and preposterous “English” accent
speak to him in such a manner? “I’m afraid we simply do not have anything available,”
he declared.

“Are you telling me that there are no rooms left in this entire hotel?” Eleanor said
incredulously.

“Yes,” he replied curtly.

“Where are we supposed to go at this hour?” Eleanor asked.

“Perhaps someplace in Chinatown?” Ormsby sniffed. These foreigners had wasted enough
of his time.

Felicity went back to where her younger sister Alexandra Cheng stood guarding the
luggage. “Finally! I can’t wait to take a hot bath,” Alexandra said eagerly.

“Actually, this odious man is refusing to give us our room!” Felicity said, making
no attempt to hide her fury.

“What? Why?” Alexandra asked, completely confused.

“I think it has something to do with us being Chinese,” Felicity said, as if she didn’t
quite believe her own words.

“Gum suey ah!”
^†
Alexandra exclaimed. “Let me talk to him. Living in Hong Kong, I have more experience
dealing with these types.”

“Alix, don’t bother. He’s a typical
ang mor gau sai!
”
^‡
Eleanor exclaimed.

“Even so, isn’t this supposed to be one of London’s top hotels? How can they get away
with that sort of behavior?” Alexandra asked.

“Exactly!” Felicity raged on. “The English are normally so lovely, I have never been
treated like this in all my years coming here.”

Eleanor nodded in agreement, even though privately she felt that Felicity was partly
to blame for this fiasco. If Felicity wasn’t so
giam siap
^§
and had let them take a taxi from Heathrow, they would have arrived looking far less
disheveled. (Of course, it didn’t help that her sisters-in-law always looked so dowdy,
she had to dress down whenever she traveled with them, ever since that trip to Thailand
when everyone mistook them for her maids.)

Edison Cheng, Alexandra’s twelve-year-old son, approached the ladies nonchalantly,
sipping soda from a tall glass.

“Aiyah, Eddie! Where did you get that?” Alexandra exclaimed.

“From the bartender, of course.”

“How did you pay for it?”

“I didn’t—I told him to charge it to our suite,” Eddie replied breezily. “Can we go
up now? I’m starving and I want to order from room service.”

Felicity shook her head in disapproval—Hong Kong boys were notoriously pampered, but
this nephew of hers was incorrigible. Good thing they were here to put him in boarding
school, where he would have some sense knocked into him—cold morning showers and stale
toast with Bovril was what he needed. “No, no, we’re not staying here anymore. Go
and watch Nicky and Astrid while we decide what to do,” Felicity instructed.

Eddie walked over to his younger cousins, resuming the game
they had begun on the plane. “Off the sofa! Remember, I’m the
chairman
, so I’m the one who gets to sit,” he commanded. “Here, Nicky, hold my glass while
I sip from the straw. Astrid, you’re my executive secretary, so you need to massage
my shoulders.”

“I don’t know why you get to be the chairman, while Nicky is the vice president and
I have to be the secretary,” Astrid protested.

“Didn’t I explain this already? I’m the chairman, because I am four years older than
the both of you. You’re the executive secretary, because you’re the girl. I need a
girl to massage my shoulders and to help choose jewelry for all my mistresses. My
best friend Leo’s father, Ming Kah-Ching, is the third-richest man in Hong Kong, and
that’s what his executive secretary does.”

“Eddie, if you want me to be your vice president, I should be doing something more
important than holding your glass,” Nick argued. “We still haven’t decided what our
company makes.”

“I’ve decided—we make custom limousines, like Rolls-Royces and Jags,” Eddie declared.

“Can’t we make something cooler, like a time machine?” Nick asked.

“Well, these are ultra-special limousines with features like Jacuzzis, secret compartments,
and James Bond ejector seats,” Eddie said, bouncing up from the settee so suddenly
that he knocked the glass out of Nick’s hand. Coca-Cola spilled everywhere, and the
sound of smashing glass pierced the lobby. The bell captain, concierge, and front-desk
clerks glared at the children. Alexandra rushed over, shaking a finger in dismay.

“Eddie! Look what you’ve done!”

“It wasn’t my fault—Nicky was the one who dropped it,” Eddie began.

“But it’s y
our
glass, and you hit it out of my hand!” Nick defended himself.

Ormsby approached Felicity and Eleanor. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to
leave the premises.”

“Can we just use your telephone?” Eleanor pleaded.

“I
do
think the children have done quite enough damage for one night, don’t you?” he hissed.

It was still drizzling, and the group huddled under a green-and-white-striped awning
on Brook Street while Felicity stood inside a phone booth frantically calling other
hotels.

“
Dai gu cheh
looks like a soldier in a sentry box in that red booth,” Nick observed, rather thrilled
by the strange turn of events. “Mummy, what are we going to do if we can’t find a
place to stay tonight? Maybe we can sleep in Hyde Park. There’s an amazing weeping
beech in Hyde Park called the upside-down tree, and its branches hang down so low
that it’s almost like a cave. We can all sleep underneath and be protected—”

“Don’t talk nonsense! No one is sleeping in the park.
Dai gu cheh
is calling other hotels right now,” Eleanor said, thinking that her son was getting
far too precocious for his own good.

“Oooh, I want to sleep in the park!” Astrid squealed in delight. “Nicky, remember
how we moved that big iron bed at Ah Ma’s house into the garden and slept under the
stars one night?”

“Well, you two can sleep in the
loong kau
^‖
for all I care, but I’ll take the big royal suite, where I can order club sandwiches
with champagne and caviar,” Eddie said.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Eddie. When have you ever had caviar?” his mother asked.

“At Leo’s house. Their butler always serves us caviar with little triangles of toasted
bread. And it’s always Iranian beluga, because Leo’s mum says Iranian caviar is the
best
,” Eddie declared.

“Connie Ming
would
say something like that,” Alexandra muttered under her breath, glad her son was finally
away from that family’s influence.

Inside the telephone booth, Felicity was trying to explain the predicament to her
husband over a crackly connection to Singapore.

“What nonsense,
lah
! You should have
demanded
the room!” Harry Leong fumed. “You are always too polite—these service people need
to be put in their place. Did you tell them who we are? I’m going to call up the minister
of trade and investment right now!”

“Come on, Harry, you’re not helping. I’ve called more than ten hotels already. Who
knew that today was Commonwealth Day? Every VIP is in town and everyone is booked
solid. Poor Astrid is soaked through. We need to find someplace for tonight before
your daughter catches her death of cold.”

“Did you try calling your cousin Leonard? Maybe you could take a train straight to
Surrey,” Harry suggested.

“I did. He’s not in—he’s grouse hunting in Scotland all weekend.”

“What a bloody mess!” Harry sighed. “Let me call Tommy Toh over at the Singapore embassy.
I’m sure they can sort things out. What is the name of this bloody racist hotel?”

“The Calthorpe,” Felicity answered.

“
Alamak
, is this the place owned by Rupert Calthorpe-something-something?” Harry asked, suddenly
perking up.

“I have no idea.”

“Where is it located?”

“It’s in Mayfair, close to Bond Street. It’s actually a rather beautiful hotel, if
it wasn’t for this horrible manager.”

“Yes, I think that’s it! I played golf with Rupert what’s his name and a few other
Brits last month in California, and I remember him telling me all about his place.
Felicity, I have an idea. I’m going to call this Rupert fellow. Just stay put and
I’ll call you back.”

Ormsby stared in disbelief when the three Chinese children burst through the front
door again, barely an hour after he had evicted the whole lot of them.

“Eddie, I’m getting
myself
a drink. If you want one, go get it yourself,” Nick said firmly to his cousin as
he walked toward the lounge.

“Remember what your mummy said. It’s too late for us to drink Cokes,” Astrid warned
as she skipped through the lobby, trying to catch up with the boys.

“Well then, I’ll get a rum and coke,” Eddie said brazenly.

“What on God’s green earth …” Ormsby bellowed, storming across the lobby to intercept
the children. Before he could reach them, he suddenly caught sight of Lord Rupert
Calthorpe-Cavendish-Gore ushering the Chinese women into the lobby, seemingly in the
midst of conducting a tour. “And my grandfather brought over René Lalique in 1918
to do the glass murals you see here in the great hall. Needless to say, Lutyens, who
supervised the restoration, did not approve of these art nouveau flourishes.” The
women laughed politely.

The staff quickly snapped to attention, surprised to see the old lord, who hadn’t
set foot inside the hotel in years. Lord Rupert turned toward the hotel manager. “Ah,
Wormsby, isn’t it?”

“Yes, m’lord,” he said, too dazed to correct his boss.

“Would you kindly have some rooms readied for the lovely Mrs. Young, Mrs. Leong, and
Mrs. Cheng?”

“But sir, I just—” Ormsby tried to protest.

“And Wormsby,” Lord Rupert continued dismissively, “I am entrusting you to inform
the staff of a very important announcement: as of this evening, my family’s long history
as custodians of the Calthorpe has come to an end.”

Ormsby stared at him in utter disbelief. “M’lord, surely there’s some mistake—”

“No, no mistake at all. I sold the Calthorpe a short while ago, lock, stock, and barrel.
May I present the new mistress, Mrs. Felicity Leong.”

“WHAT?”

“Yes, Mrs. Leong’s husband, Harry Leong—a wonderful chap with a lethal right-arm swing,
whom I met at Pebble Beach—called me up and made me a marvelous offer. I can now devote
all my time to bonefishing in Eleuthera without having to worry about this Gothic
pile.”

Ormsby stared at the women, his mouth agape.

“Ladies, why don’t we join your adorable children at the Long Bar for a toast?” Lord
Rupert said merrily.

“That would be wonderful,” Eleanor replied. “But first, Felicity, isn’t there something
you wanted to tell this man?”

Felicity turned to Ormsby, now looking as if he was about to faint. “Oh yes, I almost
forgot,” she began with a smile, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave
the premises.”