Of course Frankie is happy. Happy with her estate agent boyfriend Hugh, happy that her career is finally going somewhere. Happy with her flat and her two cats, Fred and Ginger. Until Hugh tells her that he's not. Happy that is. He needs space. Space that apparently Frankie is not allowed to fill. Of course Frankie is unhappy. So unhappy that when she's fired from her job, it seems to fit in with the rest of her life falling apart. So unhappy that she decides to quit her life in London and go to L.A.. To the land where her best friend Rita is trying to make it as an actress, and Dorian is living upstairs and is free to amuse her whenever she needs a friend. And finally there even seems to be space in her thoughts for Reilly, a contemporary version of the classic marlboro man. Who might, just might, be the one to make her happy again.