“She’s all alone in a strange country,” said Rachel, who was a psych major in college and had never gotten over it. “She feels alienated,” she said, twisting a lock of long, dark hair. “She needs lots of support.”

Lucy took a swallow of coffee, then shook her head. “I can’t believe she’s not rising to the occasion. I mean, what I wouldn’t give to be in her shoes.”

“I know,” agreed Pam Stillings, who was married to Lucy’s boss at the Pennysaver, Ted Stillings. “Imagine being young and beautiful and in Paris!” Pam was a free spirit; she still clipped her hair into a ponytail and often wore the poncho she’d picked up during her junior year in Mexico.

“It’s not that simple,” insisted Rachel, adjusting the horn-rimmed glasses that covered her huge brown eyes. “Life isn’t like perfume ads. Elizabeth is in a completely foreign culture. They even speak a different language. It’s no wonder she’s struggling to find her footing.”

“I guess so,” grumbled Lucy, looking up as Sue Finch arrived.

Sue was the glamorous member of the group, and this morning was no exception. Her glossy black hair was styled in a flawless pageboy, and she was wearing skinny black jeans and a bright color-blocked tunic. “What do you guess?” she asked, slipping into her seat.

“That it’s entirely normal for Elizabeth to be miserable in Paris,” answered Lucy.

“C’est dommage,” cooed Sue, adding a translation for the others. “It’s too bad. I love Paris. I love everything about Paris. . . .” She curved her scarlet lips into a smile, seeing Norine approaching with a coffeepot. “Except the coffee cups are too small and everyone smokes.”

“Regulars for everyone?” asked Norine. Receiving nods all round, she left the pot on the table and trotted off, scribbling on her order pad.

“That’s one of Elizabeth’s major complaints,” said Lucy, picking up the conversation. “She says her roommate smokes all the time and stinks up their apartment, which is tiny.”

“I can’t seem to work up much sympathy,” said Sue.

“You are hard-hearted,” teased Pam as Norine arrived with a sunshine muffin for Rachel, yogurt topped with granola for Pam, and hash and eggs for Lucy. Sue never had anything more than black coffee and lots of it.

“No, I’m not,” insisted Sue. “In fact, I have some amazing news. Norah is doing a show about women who make a difference. . . .”

They all knew that Sue’s daughter, Sidra, was a producer for Norah Hemmings’s Emmy-winning daytime TV show. “And you’re one of those women?” asked Lucy, jumping to a conclusion.

“No. At least I don’t think so. But Sidra says Norah wants to tape the show right here in Tinker’s Cove.”

“Here? Why here?” asked Rachel.