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‘Can’t exclusive products look happy?’

‘No,’ says Freddy. ‘Exclusive products are serious. You’re not a bag of Haribo.’

‘What’s wrong with being a bag of Haribo –’ Kat snaps her mouth closed as Marcus careers onto the balcony, doubled over, hand on his heaving ribcage.

‘I saw you on the … so I … lots of stairs!’ Marcus gasps. ‘And here you are!’

‘Yes, here she is.’ Freddy can’t keep the stern, fatherlike note out of his voice. ‘With her chaperone.’

Marcus blinks at him. ‘Chaperone?’

‘Yes, chaperone.’ Freddy’s voice is still stern. ‘A beautiful woman like Kat needs someone keeping an eye out for her. Otherwise, she’ll be mobbed by undesirables. Unless … are you saying Kat is too old to have a chaperone? Are you calling her past it?’

‘No!’ Marcus looks horrified. ‘Not at all. I just wondered … well, if Kat would like to have a drink with me.’

‘A drink!’ Freddy claps his hands together. ‘Marvellous idea. The three of us should have a drink. Kat, champagne for you? And Marcus, what are you in the market for?’

‘What?’

‘A beverage, Marcus. What do you want?’

‘Um … sparkling water?’ Marcus turns to Kat. ‘My word, Katerina. You look amazing. The hat. The dress. Just perfect. Have you placed a bet yet? Surely you must be good luck in that outfit.’

‘I’d love to place a bet,’ says Kat. ‘I’ve always been good at gambling.’

‘Let’s go place a bet together.’ Marcus pulls a wedge of fifty-pound notes from his wallet. ‘You can bet for me too.’

Freddy looks at Marcus with distaste. Good god, the man does not know how to play it cool around women. Waving his cash around like a Flash Harry. But Kat, for some unknown reason, isn’t rolling her eyes in disgust.

‘Okay, sure –’ Kat catches Freddy’s slight head shake and stops herself. ‘I mean … I have a lot of people to meet today, Marcus. I can only spare an hour …’ She pauses as Freddy rapidly shakes his head. ‘I mean, 30 minutes?’

‘YES.’ Freddy claps his hands together. ‘30 minutes. That’s fine! Leave your bag, Kat. So, you won’t be tempted to stay for longer, haha! Off you go then.’

As Kat and Marcus leave, arm in arm, Freddy has an unwelcome rush of emotion. Marcus just isn’trightfor Kat. Nor is Ahmet. They’re both perfectly nice men, but they don’t see her like he does.

Ohshit.

Freddy walks to the corner and kicks a wall. He is having ridiculous thoughts that are entirely off-brand. Time, drink and women will cure him, though. This combination makes everything better.

As Marcus and I leave the Salt Marketing Box, I feel Freddy’s eyes on my back. He needs to tone down this whole ‘pretending to be attracted to me’ thing. There’s no need to overplay it.

Marcus and I place bets, with me attempting to explain the mathematical logic behind choosing the 4-1 favourite, Drunken Lady.

We head trackside just in time to see Drunken Lady thunder into the lead. As we’re observing the race, I notice a man up ahead. He’s watching me. Actually, not just watching me butreallystaring.

I do a double take and then my stomach drops.

Oh god.

It’sChris, dressed like a Dickensian theatre character in a crumpled suit jacket and dusty top hat.

My heart pounds and I grab the track rail to steady myself.

‘Kat?’ Marcus notices my shocked expression. ‘Everything okay?’

I swallow. ‘Yes. Um … I just noticed a … well, I suppose heusedto be a friend of mine.’

‘Used to be?’ Marcus gives a sharp laugh. ‘That sounds ominous.’