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This Foreign Affair

Pink Bean Series - Book 4

Dedication

To all the gorgeously sophisticated French actresses (and one in particular) who have entertained me throughout the years and have inspired the character of Camille.

Chapter One

“You’re here bright and early this morning,” Josephine says before I can even place my order.

“Walk of shame?” Micky butts in.

“Christ, ladies. I’ll have a coffee first, we can talk after.”

Micky looks at her watch. “I’ve never seen you here this early.”

Josephine elbows her in the biceps. “A large black coffee for Zoya, please.”

“Coming right up.” Micky gets busy with the coffee machine.

“How are you today, Jo?” I ask.

“Very well, thank you.”

“I suppose it’s out of the question for me to call Caitlin at this ungodly hour and ask her to join me?”

“You can try, but she wasn’t awake when I left.” She quirks up her eyebrows.

I wave my credit card over the terminal to pay for my coffee. “I won’t bother then.” I check my phone in case I missed a text message while ordering. The screen is blank. “Myrtle is sick and there appears to be a bit of a problem in my Airbnb down the street. The new occupant arrived late last night and is complaining the smoke detector is beeping every few seconds. I promised to change the batteries first thing.”

“Here you go.” Micky hands me my coffee.

“If I lived in Darlinghurst, I could have stopped by last night.”

“Such a pity you don’t know anyone in the area.” Micky smirks.

“Very funny. They arrived after midnight. I wasn’t going to rouse any of you because my caretaker was sick, was I?”

“Thank goodness for that,” Micky replies.

Rebecca used to deal with all of this, I want to say but swallow the words, because I don’t want to talk about my ex. It’s too early in the morning for that particular kind of grievance.

“I’ll become your neighbor soon enough.” I sip from the coffee. “Just need to sort out some stuff first.”

A sudden break-up from your partner of sixteen years is emotionally harrowing enough even without all the practical things to arrange: assets to divide, and figure out who gets which souvenir from that trip to Tasmania. As far as I’m concerned, Rebecca can have it all, as long as I never have to see her face again. My lawyer disagrees.

“One of the houses in my street is for sale,” Micky says.

I perk up my ears. “Really?”

“Yeah, I’ll get you the number of the agent. You should check it out.”