The Fraud Squad - Softcover

Zhao, Kyla

Softcover

ISBN 10: 059354613X ISBN 13: 9780593546130

Verlag: Penguin Publishing Group, 2023

Inhaltsangabe

A working-class woman who infiltrates Singapore’s high society to fulfill her dreams risks losing everything in the process—including herself—in this propulsive novel by debut author Kyla Zhao.
 
For as long as she can remember, Samantha Song has dreamed of writing for a high-society magazine—and she’d do anything to get there. But the constant struggle to help her mom make ends meet and her low social status cause her dream to feel like a distant fantasy.
 
Now Samantha finds herself working at a drab PR firm. Living vicariously through her wealthy coworker and friend, Anya Chen, is the closest she’ll get to her ideal life. Until she meets Timothy Kingston: the disillusioned son of one of Singapore’s elite families—and Samantha’s one chance at infiltrating the high-society world to which she desperately wants to belong.
 
To Samantha’s surprise, Timothy and Anya both agree to help her make a name for herself on Singapore’s socialite scene. But the borrowed designer clothes and plus-ones to every glamorous event can only get her so far. The rest is on Samantha, and she’s determined to impress the editor in chief of Singapore’s poshest magazine. But the deeper Samantha wades into this fraud, the more she fears being exposed—especially with a mysterious gossip columnist on the prowl for dirt—forcing her to reconcile her pretense with who she really is before she loses it all.

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Kyla Zhao had her first women’s magazine byline at the age of sixteen, writing about weddings for Harper’s Bazaar Singapore before she even had her first kiss. Since then, she has also written for the Singapore editions of Vogue and Tatler. A native Singaporean, Kyla now works in Silicon Valley after graduating from Stanford University in 2021. She’s still trying to understand why Californians adore hiking and Patagonia fleeces so much.

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CHAPTER
1

Samantha shrugged off her leather jacket and flung it on her desk, breathing a small sigh of pleasure at the blast of air-conditioning against her clammy skin. June in Singapore was much too hot for any kind of outerwear, but she simply had to wear the cropped biker's jacket both S and Vogue had labeled "the season's must-have."

Even if hers came from Taobao and not Tom Ford.

She collapsed into her office chair with enough force to send it swiveling into position in front of her workplace computer. Her reflection looked back from the darkened screen, sporting a halo of messy waves that emphasized the sharp chin of her heart-shaped face. On good days, her hair fell down her back in a curtain of sleek curls. But on hot days like this-and Singapore had plenty of those-her naturally curly hair frizzed up in a way no hairbrush could wrangle into submission.

"Sam, there you are!"

Heads turned as Anya strutted the short distance from her desk to Samantha's like it was her personal catwalk, wearing a denim minidress belted with a brightly patterned Dior scarf that violated Arrow Public Relations' corporate dress code in half a dozen ways and made Samantha wish she had kept her leather jacket on despite how it stuck to her skin. At least it would make her outfit seem a little less plain compared to her friend's.

But only Anya could get away with an outfit that, on anyone else, would have meant being hauled in for a "talk" with Human Resources. The higher-ups turned a blind eye to her misdeeds as long as they weren't too out of line, since it was an open secret Anya's father was tight with Arrow's leadership. Even during a recession when people were getting laid off left, right, and center, a spot at Arrow had magically opened up for Anya, even though she lacked the university degree that the job listing had asked for,-and in the most prestigious financial products group, no less.

"Hey, what's up?" Samantha asked as Anya nudged the leather jacket out of the way and hitched herself onto Samantha's desk. Her feet-clad in lace-up combat boots with the distinctive Gucci stripes-dangled slightly off the ground.

"I heard Heather kept the entire food and beverage team back for a meeting yesterday," Anya said, adjusting her headband so that two front strands of hair fell out and framed her face perfectly. "What was that all about?"

Samantha laughed, her hands instinctively flying up to pat down her curls as she took in Anya's full blowout. "Don't tell me you're so starved of gossip you're actually interested in a work meeting."

"It's been a slow week, but at least it's Friday now." Anya smirked. "Anyway, dish."

Samantha leaned back in her chair and sighed. "She wanted us to brainstorm ways to attract new F and B clients. We haven't been doing too well these last few months."

"Neither has the financial products team," Anya admitted, not sounding bothered at all. "You would think finance is an evergreen industry, but nope. A recession hits and boom-the first thing they slashed was their public relations budget."

Samantha shrugged. "I guess they know that no one's looking for a fancy investment fund during a recession. But yeah, the meeting didn't go well, and Heather looked like she was ready to tear her hair out toward the end. I was ready to tear my hair out too." She gave a small shake of her head. "But enough about my work woes. How was your evening?"

Anya heaved an exaggerated sigh. "After a long day at work, I was really looking forward to a nice home-cooked meal. But when I arrived home, there was nothing on the dining table! My mom forgot she had given our maid the day off."

"Don't you have two maids? Why couldn't the other one cook?"

Anya pouted. "Only Siti is a good cook, while Meri's better with taking care of our pets and garden. In the end, my mom and I decided to pop over to Burnt Ends for dinner. They require reservations, but they let us walk right in since we're regulars."

"I was just reading about Burnt Ends in this month's issue of S over breakfast!" Samantha groped in her bag but came away empty-handed. "Damn, I must have left it at home." Then again, what was the point of showing Anya the article anyway when she had already seen Burnt Ends' crisp white tablecloths and monochrome paintings in person? The other woman could simply waltz into one of Singapore's top restaurants for a casual Thursday dinner.

"Although the food was delish as always, I'm trying to lose five kilos before my birthday in two months," Anya said, her pout deepening. "I should be healthy like you and stop eating so much restaurant food, but I'm going out again with a friend tonight."

Samantha's eyes darted to the lunch box in her work tote, filled with leftovers from the dinner Ma cooked last night-her standard work lunch. Anya might think she always ate home-cooked food for health purposes, but if she had Anya's money, she would be ordering in the tuna Ni�oise salad her friend got for lunch every day.

A glint appeared in Anya's eyes. "Say, Sam," she began, her tone sugary sweet, "would you like to join my friend and me for dinner?"

Samantha eyed her warily. "I don't want to crash your hangout with your friend."

"You won't be crashing! Timothy's going through some relationship troubles and wants to drink his sorrows away-it's always the more the merrier for that! Besides, you straight people always have the wackiest relationship problems that I can't relate to."

"Why would he tell me anything when he doesn't even know me?"

"It's precisely because he doesn't know you that he might be more willing to tell you stuff! Timothy's social circle is pretty . . . insular, so he and his girlfriend share a lot of mutual friends. I think he's pretty frustrated to have no one to vent to."

"He has you, no?"

Anya scrunched up her face. "He knows I'm not her biggest fan, so he's learned not to ask me for relationship advice." Her voice perked up. "But you're perfect! You're not part of his world, so he can get a more objective opinion from you."

Now it was Samantha's turn to pull a face. Whoever this Timothy was, he sounded like he had a much too complicated background. "I don't want to spend Friday night playing Dr. Phil . . ."

"But you'll be doing a heartbroken man a favor! And also, me-your work wife. If I've to listen to straight-people relationship drama for an entire night, I need support." When Samantha still looked unconvinced, Anya leaned closer. "You've heard of Enzo, right?"

Samantha snorted. "Do I live under a rock?" Prestige had called the newly opened bar-cum-restaurant "the place to be seen on a Friday night," and the accompanying photos of Enzo's official launch featured the cr�me de la cr�me of Singapore society.

"Well, Tim's treating dinner at Enzo tonight. Eileen-that's his mom, by the way-knows the owner, so we get to skip the ridiculous wait list." She nudged Samantha's leg with her foot. "Come on, how can you say no to Enzo? People would sell their kidney to eat there."

The sharp studs on Anya's Gucci boots dug into Samantha's flesh, but she barely noticed. Eileen . . . surely Timothy's mother couldn't be Eileen Kingston? The Prestige article had included a photo of Eileen Kingston beaming next to Enzo's owner, while carrying a limited-edition Chanel minaudi�re and wearing her trademark vintage Patek Philippe watch, her jet-black perm setting off her alabaster skin.

Gnawing on her bottom lip, Samantha mentally sifted through everything she'd ever read about Eileen Kingston. A Hong Konger who had come over to Singapore over two decades ago. Invited to every party that counted. The wife of the chairman of Kingston Management Group-she herself ran Kingston Foundation, the company's philanthropic arm. Had one son in his...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Penguin Publishing Group
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2023
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 059354613X
• ISBN 13: 9780593546130
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 368
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: gpsr@libri.de; gpsr@libri.de; ; Friedensallee 273; Hamburg; 22763; Deutschland