Page 104 of The Statistically Unlikely Reunion

“Uncle Huang,” my father corrects, a nice shorthand that tells me how far the reunion has progressed. “That was years ago. We’ve both conquered a lot of territory since.”

My father’s basically a real estate developer who got lucky before pivoting to tech and investment, but this is how he prefers to present himself: the fearless general.

“It’s time for you to do your part, for the family.”

I take a deep breath to calm myself. I remind myself that I need not only the cushion from my summer internship but also another entire year of tuition and rent from this man.

“What would you like me to do?”

“The Chinese media has been unkind about my recent ventures. If I’m not careful, they’ll spin our planned merger as a takeover.”

I don’t bother asking why my father cares. He never tells me the whole story. For all I know, this is a takeover he’s trying to spin as a merger. Also: interesting that in the same conversation it’s gone from a merger that’s definitive to one that’s merely planned.

“Tatum is a senior at Stanford. He qualified for the Olympics last year.”

It takes me a moment to connect the dots. Tatum Huang, the young boy I’d met at dinners, Huang Lu’s oldest son.

“Tatum’s already begun taking a more active role in his father’s company. This summer, you’ll turn down the Quantum Omega internship and take a formal position in mine.”

“I’ve already signed⁠—”

My father holds out one imperious hand. “Tatum graduates next year. Lu and I have decided to announce your engagement first, to distract and soften the reporting around the eventual merger.”

I laugh. It’s neither attractive nor remotely ladylike. It feels ludicrous that despite the years my father has spent traveling and investing all over the world, he still thinks like a medieval emperor.

I also feel relieved. I knew he’d ask for something difficult, just this side of unreasonable, that I’d have to think through whether I’d really turn down my already-signed offer to toady up to my father for a summer.

But this? There is simply no way.

“No.” My father’s eyebrows rise and so I continue, steadying my voice the way he taught me to, vaguely amazed that those years-ago lessons still hold up. “I’m not getting engaged to help the optics of your merger.”

I don’t say that there’s probably no way Tatum Huang, Stanford Olympic swimmer, is going to agree.

“Tatum’s already agreed,” my father reveals, eerily responding to my unspoken thoughts.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m not agreeing.”

I don’t explain myself because I know better than to come up with specific points my father could then take down, one at a time. And for the first time all night, I’m relieved I didn’t allow Lucas to join me. No way would he have been able to stay calm during a conversation like this.

From the side entryway, as if she’s been waiting for her cue, Amber comes in with a tea set and a folder of papers.

My father steeples his fingers, maintaining eye contact while he reveals, “I know you think you’re in some kind of relationship.”

Because no reply is the safest reply, the one that gives away the least information, I pour myself tea. In the back of my mind, I’m thinking through ways to delay the internship, to argue that I can juggle both all summer. Anything to extend the timeline and allow myself the option of a return offer from Quantum Omega, the possibility of independence.

“Peinan, my dear, you simply haven’t thought this through.” He opens the folder Amber handed him a moment ago and takes out the top two sheets. I have to stretch to reach for it, and it doesn’t take long to identify the two deeds: the apartment complex my sisters and mother live in as well as the one Lucas’s family resides in. “Your mother’s place—it’s barely worth my lawyer’s time, and I could see leaving it be, given the shoddier location. In comparison, your boyfriend’s place? It’s certainly not my normal renovation, and a larger project, meaning I could be persuaded to put off tearing it down, if properly distracted and incentivized.”

“Tearing it down,” I repeat.

“It’s not like it’s worth anything, beyond location.”

I swallow and run calculations. Evictions don’t happen right away. Lucas’s mother’s job is steady. The twins are rising seniors as of this summer. It might be tight, or mean a few months at a hotel while the twins finish high school, but⁠—

“Did I ever tell you I’ve recently become friends with Tsai Ji Lai?”

I try not to react. I might even succeed, though it’s hard to care about little things like poker faces at this particular moment. Lai is one of the two angel investors Lucas has secured. Verbal agreement, nothing more.

“Ji Lai often comes to me for advice. In fact, I suggested your friend’s little venture, meaning I know two of the three people young Lucas is set to meet.” My father takes another piece of paper from the folder that shows exactly how much Tsai Ji Lai has committed, a number I only know because I’ve heard it from Lucas.