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Freddy holds up his hand to request silence. He does not want to hear any more about Ahmet’s PhDs or his biceps.

Kat smacks Freddy’s hand away. ‘Didn’t I tell you what happened to the last man who put his hand in my face?’

‘I’m guessing you thanked him for stopping you saying something unnecessary –’

‘No. He got covered in oolong tea.’ Kat takes a deep breath and lets it out. ‘I’m just having anxiety. Right? Fear of the unknown. I need to get past it and keep playing this whole packaging, promotion, placement game. It does seem to be working well. Do you think Ahmet or Marcus might agree to marry me at some point?’

‘Whoa there!’ Freddy nearly raises his hand again but thinks better of it. ‘How about, do you want to marrythem? Doesn’t your opinion count? I mean, how do you know thatyouwant to marry Ahmet or Marcus? You’ve only just met them.’

‘I can’t be picky, Freddy,’ says Kat. ‘Time is running out.’

Freddy feels like his head is about to explode. ‘Kat, those are such low horizons –’

‘They’re not low horizons,’ says Kat. ‘They’re realistic horizons. And what would someone like you know about relationships, anyway?’

‘Someone like me? You mean good-looking? Intelligent?’

‘No. Someone too scared to settle down.’

‘At least I’m not still pining for someone who cheated on me and married someone else.’

Kat punches Freddy on the jaw, making his head ring.

Freddy knows, as he usually does, that he deserves the punch.

‘I’m going back inside,’ says Kat. ‘And you’re going to do what you promised. You’re going to help me find a husband.’

CHAPTER24

Back at the restaurant table, I take my seat opposite Ahmet and Marcus and soon the conversation is flowing again. Still, under the table I twist my napkin tight on my lap.

I amnotstill pining for Chris. And why is Freddy trying to put me off Marcus and Ahmet? They’re both great.

As empty plates are cleared away and more wine is poured, Marcus’s eyes find mine.

‘Katerina,’ he says. ‘Are you attending Royal Ascot this year?’

‘Well …’ I glance at Freddy. ‘As a matter of fact, my stylist did mention finding me a hat.’

‘I’ll take that as a yes.’ Marcus is still watching me intently. ‘And that being the case, would you like to meet in my corporate box for a G&T and freshly baked scone?’

‘Pardon me.’ Ahmet gives me a little wave across the table. ‘Did you say something about Ascot, Katerina? I’m going this year –’

‘I asked her first, Ahmet.’ Marcus’s voice is firm. ‘Katerina, my company puts on the most glorious catering. Sweet and savoury scones, a marvellous French patisserie selection, chilled caviar –’

‘Or you could join me on my picnic blanket for a vegan pie,’ says Ahmet. ‘Always more fun to be outside on the lawn, don’t you think?’

‘Royal Ascot has a very strict policy about picnics,’ says Marcus. ‘Only the regulation Fortnum and Mason hampers, which don’t contain an awful lot. Unless you’re planning on breaking the rules, Ahmet. Which I hope you are not.’

‘My picnic will be well within the rules,’ says Ahmet. ‘Except for the giant pie I’ll be sneaking in under my top hat, wink, wink!’ He gives me a smiling nose tap.

‘That’s outrageous!’ says Marcus.

‘So are the regulation picnic hampers,’ says Ahmet. ‘I mean, come on. A few pieces of soda bread, some pea and mint dip, coronation chicken salad, strawberries and clotted cream, a couple of scones, a medium-sized pistachio cheesecake and a chilled bottle of Bollinger? Hardly enough to sustain one for a day at the races.’

‘I’m sure Katerina will be happier drinkingchilledchampagne and caviaron icein my private box,’ barks Marcus. ‘There are no chilled facilities trackside.’

‘But trackside is where the action is,’ Ahmet insists. ‘So much more exciting. And it’s stuffy indoors. I’m sure Katerina doesn’t want to be stuffy –’