Kate’s look of challenge was almost dazzling. It was amazing to have such freedom to make bets and appear at a racetrack. Papa would have never approved of such a venue, but she had only been a small child in boarding school when the revolution occurred. At least she knew that her short skirts and cosmetics would have caused censor.

However, she’d give up everything to have her parents with her now. Smiling, laughing Mama and Papa who always sent her toys when she was in Switzerland. She still had the puppets and theater, the babushka dolls, the painted boxes, and many other things lying in a chest in the attic.

Memories only lasted so long, unfortunately. Kate forced herself back to the present. This was Paris, 1929 and she wasn’t in finishing school. She was eighteen and surrounded by admirers who were transparent and fortune hunters. It was just something she would have to get used to, but having someone do little things for her if she made even a halfhearted request.

She smiled at the young man who was kind enough to hand her the ticket from the bookmaker and laughed. She had been quiet for too long and she was determined to giggle and be a Kate. A Kate would enjoy being surrounded by a myriad of men. A Katya found that never being alone was almost strangling. As a matter of fact, some days she felt like firing the member of her staff that had been bribed to give her whereabouts.

She watched the race with great attention and amusement at a large group of men who rushed to place money on Ksar. Still, modern women and had silly gallants as their requisite accessory. When one thought of such things, it was an excellent way to keep from having to fight off proposals. Like the play she had seen a few years ago, too many rings around Rosie would never get Rosie a ring. Thank God for never having just one caller crowds on her day in.

The newcomer, who was obviously an Englishman, seemed to draw hostility from her admirers who had always been kept at arm’s length. Really, the men she usually met were so boring. So they had wealth and family connections, but that was nothing of interest to someone of wealth and family. This “Simon” had something she hadn’t seen in ages: charisma.

Kate groaned as Ksar lost. There went a hundred franks, although the loss would barely take some weight out of her purse. Ortello had lost as well, so the question of what next had to be answered. Her voice got extremely flirty and she gave a carefree laugh.

“We haven’t discussed what would happen if we both got overconfident and lost. What now ? We shake hands and say goodbye ?”

The answer was quite interesting. What was the “real Paris ?” The truth of the matter was that she went to operas, the ballet, and plays. She had the feeling that she would be breaking out her short dresses and the Egyptian makeup while staying up until dawn. Needless to say, it was a siren song she couldn’t resist. One of her maids would just have to make sure that Kate didn’t run out of rouge or kohl. Maybe instead, she’d do her eyes in malachite or lapis. After all, that would be Egyptian too. Perhaps she’d go to Cairo one of these days. Oh, how fun that would be !

Simon’s answer made her open her cyan eyes quite widely. He was an actor in the Folies ? How utterly interesting ! Better still, he wanted her to attend a rehearsal. Wild horses couldn’t drag her away. What an adventure ! Quell surprise ! Of course she’d go.

She took Simon’s arm and gave a genuine smile that lit up her eyes.

“As you wish, Simon. I’d be happy to go with you to the theater. I’ve never seen the Follies before they were done. I assume that this is the start of showing me the real Paris ? I predict that we’re going to become good friends.”