I’m pretty lucky. As part of my job, I get to travel every year to the Frankfurt Book Fair, a massive, international literary convention that draws thousands of publishers and authors. This year, I’ve got a lot to do: On the selling end, I’ll be representing National Geographic’s children’s book line, as well as a book I’m writing for adults, Amazing!. On the buying end, I’ll be searching for kids’ titles to publish domestically.

But beforehand, my colleague Nina and I decide, we’ll spend a few days traveling around. After all, as long as we’re in Europe…

At the end of a balmy day of shopping, theater and strolling in London, we meet up with my friend Alex, an art dealer who splits his time between London and New York. Two years earlier, when my husband Keith and I traveled to Italy, mutual friends introduced us to Alex and his girlfriend, a stunning woman named Homera.

The four of us then met up for an evening out in Rome, and Homera offered to show us some off-the-beaten-track sights. One of those sights, she said, was her own “wasband.”

“What’s a ‘wasband?’ ” I asked.

“He was my husband, and you must meet him because he’s fascinating,” she said with obvious pride.

It reminded of Nora Ephron’s line, “Never be married to a man you wouldn’t want to be divorced from.” I never thought that line could apply to me, or that I would be transitioning Keith to wasband status, as I’m doing now.

But I don’t want to talk about that. Instead, Nina and I, who are off to Paris the next day, quiz Alex on his favorite French paintings. He whips out his cell phone and shows us his screen saver: the painting of a stunningly beautiful woman--a prostitute, as it turns out.

“Olympia is her name,” says Alex. “Edouard Manet painted her. She’s at the Musee D’Orsay.”