Her cellphone rang, It was a Celine Dion ringtone, the Titanic theme. She loved Celine Dion, thought she was the ultimate performer, diva, mother and wife. So what if she was Canadian! She could sing! And she had married her manager, a smart woman. It was her best friend Aida calling, probably to tell her about her fabulous weekend in the country with her new stud boyfriend Vinny, the golf pro from Vegas. "Franny, let me tell you, the man is a stud." There she goes again, thought Fran, talking her just got divorced, over forty but still loving sex and not hating men yet talk. It was a miracle that she still even wanted to get laid, after 20 years with Lenny, her cheating ex-husband, philanderer and chronic gambler. You’d think a woman would learn from her mistakes, but Aida just begged for more torture in the man department. She was a loser magnate, no doubt."So it was good huh?" Fran snorted. Aida sighed, "It was great!He did the whole rose petals and massage thing, you know, with scented candles and chocolate covered raspberries". Just sounded too good to be true. Immediately Fran was suspicious. "Girlfriend, who is sleeping in those red satin sheets when you’re not there?" Silence on the other end. Aida finally spoke, "You know, I don’t know and I don’t care. I am just taking this whole thing one day at a time and seeing what happens. Nothing heavy, you know?" Fran sighed, "What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas . . .