Page 26 of Well, That Was Unexpected

“Um. It’s kind of a long story, but, uh—oh, okay, you’re gone.” I stand there, unmoving, as Eighth Aunt marches out of the formal living room.

“Shu Peng! Eleanor! You come here RIGHT NOW. SHU PENG. ELEANOR ROOSEVELT.”

I wince at her authoritative shouts, flinching at the sound of her footsteps stomping upstairs and into Papa’s and Eleanor’srooms. Before long, Eighth Aunt is back, practically dragging them by their ears like they were naughty pups.

Papa and Eleanor give me looks of utter betrayal as Eighth Aunt releases them and barks at us to sit down on the sofa. We all hunker down and she begins her tirade.

“Icannotbelieve how incredibly STUPID and AWFUL and RIDICULOUS you have been!”

“Look, Shu Ling,” Papa says, “I just wanted what’s best for George!”

“You chatted with a teenage girl!” Eighth Aunt cries at him. “What is wrong with you? That is so highly inappropriate! Do you know what the media would say if they ever found out?”

“To be fair, Eighth Aunt, it was mostly me,” Eleanor says. “You know how hopeless both Papa and gege are when it comes to talking to girls.”

Eighth Aunt shoots Eleanor a look so sharp that it makes us all cower. “I am even more disappointed to hear that, Eleanor Roosevelt!” she snaps. “I expect this sort of shenanigans from your brother and your dad—”

“Okay, for the record?” I interrupt, “I was—and am—very much against the entire thing from the very beginning.”

“—but I expected more from you, my prodigy,” Eighth Aunt continues as though I hadn’t said anything.

Eleanor deflates visibly, her lower lip trembling. Eighth Aunt sighs. “Never mind. No use crying over spilt milk. We need to run damage control.” She paces again, tapping an index finger on her chin as she walks. “All right. It’s not entirely terrible, I suppose. As far as fake girlfriends go, you could’ve chosen worse.Sharlot is very photogenic and well-spoken. Teens will like her American accent, especially those we’re targeting for OneLiner. It’s not entirely a disaster.”

Papa and Eleanor puff up as though this were a huge compliment. I suppose coming from Eighth Aunt, it sort of is.

“Since we’ve already publicly invited her to join us for the launch in Bali, we can’t possibly uninvite her. So, George, you are going to have to continue fake-dating Sharlot, you hear me? We’re going to do a lot of prepping before the event. I’ll have Fauzi coach you kids on what to say—you know what? No, I can’t let anyone else find out about this. I’ll coach you kids myself.”

“But, Eighth Aunt—”

“Nobuts! We can’t afford a whiff of bad press, not until after the app launches. It’s your first-ever official product; if it goes badly, it will follow you for the rest of your life. You need to make sure that the launch goes perfectly. This means you better be nice to this poor girl.”

“I wasn’t going to be horrible to her, sheesh,” I mumble.

“Yes, well, let’s aim for something higher than ‘not horrible,’ okay? Be a perfect boyfriend. She needs to rave to everyone about what an incredible gentleman you are and how well-suited you are as the face of OneLiner.”

My insides squirm sickeningly. “But I’d be lying to her—”

Eighth Aunt throws up her hands in frustration. “Just for another week or so, George! Don’t be so dramatic.”

Dramatic?! Argh! I’m the least dramatic person in the room, why can’t they see that? Of course, I have enough sense of self-preservation not to say it out loud.

Eighth Aunt storms out then, leaving me, Papa, and Eleanor staring at one another guiltily. For about two seconds. Then Papa says, “Please, listen to Eighth Aunt and be nice to Sharlot, okay? She is a nice girl. Sharlot is a special kid. Be good to her.”

“Does that mean I should treat her as my girlfriend, or my platonic friend, or the truth, which is that she’s practically a stranger?” I ask drily.

Papa blinks and looks lost for a while. Then he smiles. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

“Are these Hermès seats?” Sharlot’s cousin Kiki asks as we file into the jet.

I shift self-consciously. “Um, I guess. I don’t know.”

“Oh yes dear,” Eighth Aunt says, looking up from her phone. “We had them custom-made for all our jets.”

“Wow, I didn’t know Hermès made furniture,” Kiki mutters.

“They make the best furniture. Their leather is premium quality, isn’t that right, Eighth Aunt?” Eleanor pipes up.

“That’s right, sayang,” Eighth Aunt says. Eleanor gives one of her trademark I’m-such-a-sweetheart smiles, and Eighth Aunt pinches her cheek with obvious endearment before going back to tapping on her phone.

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