quiet masculinity and a relaxed ease that was proving to be infectious. Rachel found
herself being pulled into his conversational orbit, and before she even realized it,
they were yakking away like old friends.
At a certain point, Sylvia got up from the table and announced that it was high time
she went home, before her husband starved to death. Rachel and Nick decided to stay
for one more drink. Which led to another drink. Which led to dinner at the bistro
around the corner. Which led to gelato in Father Demo Square. Which led to a walk
through Washington Square Park (since Nick insisted on escorting her back to her faculty
apartment).
He’s the perfect gentleman
, Rachel thought, as they strolled past the fountain and the blond-dreadlocked guitarist
wailing a plaintive ballad.
And you’re standing here beside me, I love the passing of time
, the boy sang plaintively.
“Isn’t this Talking Heads?” Nick asked. “Listen …”
“Oh my God, it totally is! He’s singing ‘This Must Be the Place,’ ” Rachel said in
surprise. She loved that Nick knew the song well enough to recognize this bastardized
version.
“He’s not half bad,” Nick said, taking out his wallet and tossing a few dollars into
the kid’s open guitar case.
Rachel noticed that Nick was mouthing along to the song. He’s scoring some major bonus
points right now, she thought, and then she realized with a start that Sylvia had
been right—this guy who she’d just spent six straight hours engrossed in conversation
with, who knew all the lyrics to one of her favorite songs, this guy standing here
beside her was the first man she could truly imagine as her husband.
----
* Designed by Pierre Balmain, the signature uniform worn by Singapore Airlines flight
attendants was inspired by the Malay
kebaya
(and which has long inspired many a business traveler).
† Chinese + yuppie = Chuppie.
12
The Leongs
SINGAPORE
“At last, the golden couple!” Mavis Oon proclaimed as Astrid and Michael made their
entrance into the Colonial Club’s formal dining room. With Michael in his crisp navy
Richard James suit and Astrid in a long, flapper-style silk voile dress the color
of persimmon, they made an exceedingly striking pair, and the room rippled with the
usual hushed excitement from the ladies, who covertly scrutinized Astrid from hair
to heels, and the men, who gazed at Michael with a mixture of envy and derision.
“Aiyah, Astrid, why so late?” Felicity Leong scolded her daughter as she arrived at
the long banquet table by the trophy wall where members of the extended Leong family
and their honored guests from Kuala Lumpur—
Tan Sri
* Gordon Oon and
Puan Sri
Mavis Oon—were already seated.
“So sorry. Michael’s flight back from China was delayed,” Astrid apologized. “I hope
you didn’t wait for us to order? The food always takes ages here.”
“Astrid, come, come, let me look at you,” Mavis commanded.The imperious lady, who could easily have won an Imelda Marcos look-alike contest
with her dramatically rouged cheeks and fat chignon, patted Astrid’s face as if she
were a little girl and launched into her trademark gushing. “Aiyah you haven’t aged
one bit since I last saw you how’s little Cassian when are you going to have another
one don’t wait too long
lah
you need a little girl now you know my ten-year-old granddaughter Bella absolutely
worships you ever since her last trip to Singapore she’s always saying ‘
Ah Ma
, when I grow up I want to be just like Astrid’ I asked why and she says ‘Because
she always dresses like a movie star and that Michael is such a hunk!’ ” Everyone
at the table roared with laughter.
“Yes, don’t we
all
wish we could have Astrid’s clothing budget and Michael’s eight-pack!” Astrid’s brother
Alexander quipped.
Harry Leong looked up from his menu and, catching sight of Michael, beckoned him over.
With his
herself being pulled into his conversational orbit, and before she even realized it,
they were yakking away like old friends.
At a certain point, Sylvia got up from the table and announced that it was high time
she went home, before her husband starved to death. Rachel and Nick decided to stay
for one more drink. Which led to another drink. Which led to dinner at the bistro
around the corner. Which led to gelato in Father Demo Square. Which led to a walk
through Washington Square Park (since Nick insisted on escorting her back to her faculty
apartment).
He’s the perfect gentleman
, Rachel thought, as they strolled past the fountain and the blond-dreadlocked guitarist
wailing a plaintive ballad.
And you’re standing here beside me, I love the passing of time
, the boy sang plaintively.
“Isn’t this Talking Heads?” Nick asked. “Listen …”
“Oh my God, it totally is! He’s singing ‘This Must Be the Place,’ ” Rachel said in
surprise. She loved that Nick knew the song well enough to recognize this bastardized
version.
“He’s not half bad,” Nick said, taking out his wallet and tossing a few dollars into
the kid’s open guitar case.
Rachel noticed that Nick was mouthing along to the song. He’s scoring some major bonus
points right now, she thought, and then she realized with a start that Sylvia had
been right—this guy who she’d just spent six straight hours engrossed in conversation
with, who knew all the lyrics to one of her favorite songs, this guy standing here
beside her was the first man she could truly imagine as her husband.
----
* Designed by Pierre Balmain, the signature uniform worn by Singapore Airlines flight
attendants was inspired by the Malay
kebaya
(and which has long inspired many a business traveler).
† Chinese + yuppie = Chuppie.
12
The Leongs
SINGAPORE
“At last, the golden couple!” Mavis Oon proclaimed as Astrid and Michael made their
entrance into the Colonial Club’s formal dining room. With Michael in his crisp navy
Richard James suit and Astrid in a long, flapper-style silk voile dress the color
of persimmon, they made an exceedingly striking pair, and the room rippled with the
usual hushed excitement from the ladies, who covertly scrutinized Astrid from hair
to heels, and the men, who gazed at Michael with a mixture of envy and derision.
“Aiyah, Astrid, why so late?” Felicity Leong scolded her daughter as she arrived at
the long banquet table by the trophy wall where members of the extended Leong family
and their honored guests from Kuala Lumpur—
Tan Sri
* Gordon Oon and
Puan Sri
Mavis Oon—were already seated.
“So sorry. Michael’s flight back from China was delayed,” Astrid apologized. “I hope
you didn’t wait for us to order? The food always takes ages here.”
“Astrid, come, come, let me look at you,” Mavis commanded.The imperious lady, who could easily have won an Imelda Marcos look-alike contest
with her dramatically rouged cheeks and fat chignon, patted Astrid’s face as if she
were a little girl and launched into her trademark gushing. “Aiyah you haven’t aged
one bit since I last saw you how’s little Cassian when are you going to have another
one don’t wait too long
lah
you need a little girl now you know my ten-year-old granddaughter Bella absolutely
worships you ever since her last trip to Singapore she’s always saying ‘
Ah Ma
, when I grow up I want to be just like Astrid’ I asked why and she says ‘Because
she always dresses like a movie star and that Michael is such a hunk!’ ” Everyone
at the table roared with laughter.
“Yes, don’t we
all
wish we could have Astrid’s clothing budget and Michael’s eight-pack!” Astrid’s brother
Alexander quipped.
Harry Leong looked up from his menu and, catching sight of Michael, beckoned him over.
With his
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