Rich People Problems-Kwan 2017 (WWT)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN
JODHPUR, INDIA
Astrid stood on the balcony, breathing in the luxuriant scent that wafted up from the rose
gardens below. From her vantage point at the Umaid Bhawan Palace Hotel, she had a
sweeping view of the city. To the east, an impossibly romantic-looking fort perched on a
mountaintop, while in the distance the tight clusters of vibrant blue buildings that made
up the medieval city of Jodhpur gleamed in the early-morning light. The Blue City, Astrid
thought to herself. She had heard somewhere that all the houses here were painted this
shade of cobalt because it was believed to ward off evil spirits. The color reminded her of
Yves Saint Laurent and Pierre Bergé’s estate in Marrakech—the Majorelle Gardens—much
of which was also painted a distinctive shade of blue, the only house in an entire city of
rose ochre allowed by decree of the king to be painted a different color.
Astrid stretched out on the chaise lounge and poured herself another cup of chai from
the silver art deco teapot. This monumental palace had been commissioned by the
present maharaja’s grandfather in 1929 to give work to all the people during a great
famine, so every detail retained its original art deco style—from the pink sandstone pillars
in the rotunda to the blue mosaic tiles in the underground swimming pool built so that
the maharani could swim in complete privacy. The place reminded her a bit of Tyersall
Park, and for a moment, Astrid felt an intense pang of guilt. Her grandmother lay in bed
attended by a team of doctors while she was here, enjoying a secret weekend rendezvous
at a palace.
Her guilt faded slightly as she caught sight of Charlie padding out onto the balcony clad
only in his drawstring pajama trousers. When did he become so built? Back in their
university days in London Charlie had been positively scrawny, but now his lanky torso
took on that distinctive V-shape and his abs looked more ripped than she had ever
remembered. He stood behind her as she lay on the chaise lounge, bending over and
kissing that tender spot on her neck. “Morning, gorgeous.”
“Good morning. Did you sleep well?”
“Now I don’t recall getting any sleep last night, but I’m sure glad you did,” Charlie
teased as he poured a cup of coffee from the samovar set up on the chrome-and-glass
trolley. He took his first sip and murmured in satisfaction, “Mmm. How great is this