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At first, Katya opened her mouth to ask how he’d learned about her age. But then she remembered about giving her ID to the receptionist. Suddenly her thoughts were frozen by Filf expression. She guessed the first ‘f’ would stand for ‘father’ and quickly responded, ‘Are you married? If yes, I don’t want to have anything with you again, I try not to mix up with married men.’ She caught herself on saying ‘try’, ‘don’t try – don’t mix up!’

‘Don’t worry, I’m divorced, have a ten-year-old son, who lives with his mum and fucking father-in-law in Amsterdam. The rest can tell you later. Will I see you today, Katya?’ he asked demanding.

‘Um, I can’t today. It’s my daughter’s birthday and I just promised her to spend the whole day with her, telling her how I came from the point of finding my prince on a white horse for a happy family life to the point of treating men as little adventures,’ explained Katya.

‘Oh, that’s how you see men. I’ll have to prove to you otherwise. I do care,’ stated Sasha.