Jennifer Stewart and Randy West have no time for love. They're mobile marrieds who never seem to connect anymore, except by cellular phone. She's off pursuing her career and he's off trying to land a major book deal for his publishing firm. You know where this is going of course? A bedroom scene where she's painting her toenails, and he's rolling over, leaving gas. Well, it gets awfully close to that.

The signs are becoming painfully obvious to the degree that Jennifer tells Randy to look to his sexual needs, and she'll look the other way. When he courts hooker Casey Williams in the back of his limousine, West feels he can get into this kind of lifestyle quite readily. And style is a good word to describe this frothy, not-too-complicated "people who don't know what they want" message movie. You see, West is getting egged on to do the nasty by the publishing firm's resident playboy Wayne Summers, which sets up this nice, gossamer, outdoor hot tub scene featuring Ashley Nicole and Lynette Sterling —probably the best scene in the whole film.

But while Randy angsts himself back and forth in the arms of Casey, ol' Jennifer is carrying out masturbation fantasies with the mental image of a former lover who happens to look like Charlie Sheen. Both segments are hot and sultry. This all gets resolved, of course, but not in any substantial way that's going to rewrite books in human dynamics. The sex scenes are tender, loving, hot and full of body groping, so the couples market should feel right at home with that. A film worth supporting.