“Yes—when I heard that Carlton’s father had arranged for you to stay at a hotel at the very last minute, I thought, ‘Poor things! They’ll starve at the Peninsula! They are going to need provisions.’?”

“So the hotel was a last-minute thing?” Nick inquired.

Colette pursed her lips, realizing she had made a slipup.

Carlton quickly came to the rescue. “Er…no…I mean, my father likes to plan things very far in advance, so this was rather last-minute by comparison. He wanted the two of you to have a special honeymoon treat.”

“So did you like the goodies I sent up?” Colette asked.

“Oh, very much. I especially love Daylesford’s marmalade,” Nick said.

“Me too—I’ve been addicted ever since my days at Heathfield,” Colette said.

“You were at Heathfield? I was at Stowe,” Nick said.

“Phwoar! I’m an Old Stoic too!” Carlton pounded the table excitedly.

“I guessed as much. Your blazer was a dead giveaway,” Nick said with a laugh.

“Which house were you in?” Carlton asked.

“Grenville.”

“This is too much of a coincidence! Who was the housemaster? Was it Fletcher?”

“Chitty. You can imagine our nickname for him.”

“Haha—brilliant! Did you play rugby or cricket?”

Colette rolled her eyes at Rachel. “I think we’ve lost the boys for the rest of the night.”

“Clearly. Nick’s like this when he gets together with his Singapore classmates too. A few more drinks and they’ll start singing that song about Old Man whatshisname.”*1

Carlton shifted his attention back to Rachel. “I’m being a terrible bore, aren’t I? I take it you went to school in the States?”

“Monta Vista High in Cupertino.”

“You’re so lucky!” Colette said. “I was shipped away to school in England by my parents, but I always dreamed of going to high school in America. I wanted to be just like Marissa Cooper.”

“Minus the car wreck, of course,” Carlton chimed in.*2

“Speaking of which, I’m glad to see how well you are after your accident,” Nick said.

Carlton’s face clouded over for a split second. “Thanks. You know, I must tell you how grateful I am to your mother. I don’t think I would have made such a quick recovery if I hadn’t done my rehab in Singapore, and of course, if it hadn’t been for your mum, none of us would have ever met.”

“Things have a strange way of working out, don’t they?” Nick said.

As if on cue, Colette’s personal assistant entered the room and announced, “Baptiste is here.”

“At last! Send him in,” Colette said excitedly.

“Baptiste is one of the top sommeliers in the world—he used to work at the Crillon in Paris,” Carlton whispered to Rachel, as a man with a handlebar mustache entered the dining room bearing a wine satchel with such ceremony, one might have thought he was carrying a royal baby to its baptismal font.

“Baptiste! Did you find the right bottle?” Colette asked.

“Yes, Chateau Lafite Rothschild from the Shanghai private reserve,” Baptiste replied, presenting the bottle to Colette for inspection.

“I usually prefer the even years for Bordeaux, but you’ll notice that I chose a very special year—1981. Isn’t that the year you were born, Rachel?”

“It sure is,” Rachel said, touched by Colette’s thoughtfulness.

“Allow me to make the first toast,” Colette said, raising her glass. “Here in China, it’s so rare for kids of our generation to have siblings. I have always dreamed of having a sibling, but I’ve never been so lucky. I’ve known Carlton for several years now, but I’ve never seen him more excited than the day he discovered he had a sister. So here’s to the both of you—Carlton and Rachel. Brother and sister!”

“Here, here!” Nick cheered.

Carlton stood up next and declared, “First, I want to make a toast to Rachel. I’m glad you made it here safely, and I look forward to getting to know you and catching up on all the lost years. And to Colette—thank you for making this wonderful evening possible. I’m so glad you kicked my arse in gear and made me do this. Tonight I feel like I’ve gained not just a sister but a brother too. So here’s to Rachel and Nick! Welcome to China! We’re going to have a brilliant summer, aren’t we?”

Nick wondered what Carlton had meant by Colette “kicking his arse in gear,” but he said nothing for the moment. He looked over tenderly at Rachel, whose eyes brimmed with tears. This evening had turned out far better than he ever dared to dream.

* * *

*1 ACS Old Boys, all together now: “In days of yore from western shores, Oldham dauntless hero came…”

*2 See The O.C., season three. If you ask me, the show jumped the shark after its heroine, Marissa Cooper, played by the incomparable Mischa Barton, was (spoiler alert!) misguidedly killed off in a car accident.

5

CHARLIE

WUTHERING TOWERS, HONG KONG

“Mr. Wu? It’s 9:00 a.m. in Italy now,” Charlie’s executive assistant said, poking her head into his office.

“Thanks, Alice.” Charlie reached for his ultra-private phone line and called Astrid’s cell phone. She picked up after three rings.

“Charlie! Oh my God—thanks for calling me back.”

“Am I calling too early?”

“No, I’ve been up for hours. I guess you heard about last night?”

“Yes—I am so sorry—” Charlie began.

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said a thing to Isabel.”

“Nonsense—I’m the one who screwed up. I should have communicated better with my wife.”

“So you talked to her? Did you explain that my cousin Alistair was with us the whole time in California?”

Charlie paused for a few seconds. “I did. Don’t worry about it anymore.”

“Are you sure? I couldn’t sleep at all last night—I kept imagining that I had gotten you into trouble and that Isabel thought I was some philandering home wrecker. I was trying to find ways to contact her myself.”

“Everything’s fine. Once I explained how our California road trip was last-minute—that we all just happened to be there at the same time—she was fine.” He wondered how convincing he sounded.

“I hope you told her that the most romantic thing that happened was watching Alistair projectile vomit out the car window after stuffing down too many In-N-Out burgers.”

“I left that part out, but don’t worry—it’s all good,” Charlie said, trying to add a little laugh.

Astrid let out a deep sigh of relief. “I’m so glad. You know, I should have been more circumspect. After all, she was meeting me for the first time, and I am the woman who—” She paused, suddenly unsure of how to put it.

“You’re the woman who dumped her husband,” Charlie said matter-of-factly.

“Yes, that’s right. I hope she knows that we’re much better friends now than we ever could have been before. My God, we were a terrible couple,” Astrid said with a laugh.

“I think she realizes that now,” Charlie said cautiously. He desperately wanted to change the subject. “So how’s Venice? Where are you staying?”

“I’m staying with Domiella Finzi-Contini. Her family has the most spectacular palazzo near Santa Croce—I walked onto my balcony this morning and thought I had stepped into a Caravaggio. Do you remember Domiella from our London days? She was at LSE, but part of that whole crazy set that ran around with Freddie and Xan.”

“Ah yes—messy blond hair, right?”

“It was platinum blond then, but she’s back to her natural chestnut now. Anyway, we were having the most marvelous time together until last night.”

Charlie groaned audibly. “I’m sorry again.”

“No, no, it’s nothing to do with Isabel. There’s another drama brewing back home—I have two stubborn boys who are refusing to behave.”

“They probably miss Mommy.”

“Now, don’t you start on me too! I feel bad enough as it is that Cassian’s getting locked up in a closet.”

“Who locked him in a closet?”

“His father.”

“What?” Charlie said incredulously.

“For four hours yesterday, apparently. And he’s only five.”

“Astrid, I would never lock my child in a closet, no matter what age.”

“Thank you. My feelings exactly. I think I need to cut this trip short.”

“Um, sure sounds like it!”

Astrid sighed. “When is Isabel coming home?”

“Friday, I think.”

“She’s incredibly beautiful. She looked so elegant last night—I adored the necklace she was wearing. And she was perfectly civil to me even after I must have given her quite a shock. I’m so glad everything’s okay now.”

“I am too,” Charlie said, forcing himself to smile. He heard somewhere that people could sense the smile in your voice, even over the phone.

Astrid paused. She felt she needed to make one more gesture to make up for her faux pas. “The next time Michael and I are in Hong Kong, we should go on a double date. I want to get to know Isabel under better circumstances.”

“Yes, we should do that. A double date.”