Renee kept browsing through the displays while Ket Siong was gone. The exhibition was staggering, wonderful. She was glad she’d come, even if nothing came of the encouraging chat she’d had with the Selfridges buying manager. Here were sketches from the hand of Christian Dior himself, right beneath her nose. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to look into the mind of one of the greatest designers of all time.
Yet she was finding it difficult to focus, her mind wandering after Ket Siong. Would he come back alone, or with his friend?
“Friend” covered a lot of ground. Renee had been friends with Ket Siong, once upon a time.
If he brought his friend along, Renee would be able to tell what the precise nature of their relationship was. Not that it was any of her business. But it was the sort of thing that would interest her best friend, Nathalie.
“Eh, hello, hello!” said a voice behind her, making her jump. “I didn’t know you’re here.”
An older Chinese man in a moderately ill-fitting suit beamed at Renee, a glass of bubbly in his hand. She recognised him at once, but it took her a moment before his name came to her.
Low Teck Wee of Freshview Industries, of course. The last time she’d seen him was years ago, when they were sat at the same table at the wedding of the son of an Indonesian magnate.Dad had taken Renee along because Low had two daughters, but Dad’s attempt at multigenerational networking had flopped. A black cloud hung over the Low party; there had evidently been some family quarrel. Despite Renee’s overtures, Clarissa and Charmaine Low had spent the entire dinner absorbed in their phones, pointedly ignoring everyone else.
The last time Dad had mentioned Freshview to her was this morning, when he’d rung to talk about stepping down from Chahaya.
“Low Teck Wee’s company is investing in a project in London. Converting a factory site into housing and commercial units,” Dad said. “Big development. Did you hear of it? We want to get involved. Maybe you can help.”
What a coincidence. Fate seemed to be working overtime on Renee’s case today.
“Su—Su—you’re called what again?” said Low Teck Wee. “Su Yin?”
“Su Ren,” said Renee. “How are you, Uncle Low?”
“Good,” said Low. His face was already magenta, though the glass he held was only half-empty. “How is your father? I went golfing with him, must be two months ago now. After that, came to UK to see my daughters and do some business. I’m going back to Malaysia next week.”
“He’s well,” said Renee. “Busy as always.” Her father wasn’t planning on announcing his retirement until he’d decided who was taking over from him. “Are you enjoying the evening?”
“Ah, this kind of thing is not for old men like me,” said Low. “Charmaine is interested, so I came. Otherwise, who knows, she will be bringing some young man along, isn’t it?” He twinkled at her. “What about you? You’re here by yourself, or you have a friend?”
Renee knew what was coming next. She tensed.
Sure enough, Low added, “You know, Andrew got married last year. To the girl—can’t remember her name—the Delima Corp daughter. You remember my nephew Andrew?”
Even without that call with Dad, Renee would have been reluctant to offend Low. He’d always been kind to her and was not to be held accountable for anything his relatives did.
But it took an effort to muster a smile. She could feel how tight it was.
“Of course,” she said. “I heard he married Felicia Handoko. They seem like a great match.”
“Felicia, correct,” said Low. “Very nice girl. Not so pretty as you, of course. So when is your turn?”
Why were older Chinese people so nosy? Was Renee going to start interrogating all the younger people she vaguely knew about their relationship status the moment she hit fifty?
She’d better not let him see Ket Siong. The first thing Uncle Low would do would be to tell her father. Maybe Dad would assume it was Jason Uncle Low had seen her with, but he didn’t approve of Jason, believing he was not the kind of man to settle down and have a family.
Turned out Dad was right on that count. Renee hadn’t mentioned the breakup to him. She hadn’t wanted to divert him from what he’d rung to talk about—matters far more important than the fact her jerk boyfriend had dumped her that morning.
“I’m here on business,” she said. “You know I run a fashion company.”
Low had obviously forgotten, if he’d ever known, but he brightened at the reminder. “Yes, yes. I must ask Charmaine to talk to you. She’s studying business management at Westminster University, but she also wants to go into this area.” He waved at the exquisitely gowned mannequins staring facelessly down at them. “You have WhatsApp? What’s your number?”
Renee readily surrendered her digits and asked for Charmaine Low’s number in return, promising she’d get in touch. She would have done this in any case—she was all for supporting aspiring female entrepreneurs, even if they had been somewhat uncouth at a wedding banquet when they were fifteen. But any opportunityto get in Low Teck Wee’s good books was doubly valuable at the moment.
Nevertheless, she was relieved to see him off before Ket Siong reappeared. Ket Siong looked a little flustered. He was unaccompanied.
“Sorry I made you wait,” he said.
“Oh, don’t worry. I was chatting to someone else, so I didn’t notice the time,” said Renee. That was half-true, which was not as bad as acompletelie. “Is your friend not coming?”
