He looked at the camera. “So you're going to be a film maker?” Squinted in curiosity. “You have any idea what the average ROI is in that industry?”

“ROI?”

“Return on investment.”

Accountants might have been as bad as cops when it came to initials. Rune said, “I sort of do the creative part and leave the money stuff to other people.”

“What's the market for a film like yours?”

And she told him about the independent circuit and art film houses and public TV and the new but growing cable TV market.

“And it wouldn't be a large investment,” Hathaway considered, “for films like this. You can probably control costs pretty easily. Indirect overhead would probably be pretty low. I mean, look at fixed assets. Virtually nonexistent in your case. You can lease equipment, wouldn't have to amortize much, only the more expensive items... If you were smart, the net — net could be great.” Hathaway gazed off into the evening sky, seeing a huge balance sheet in the stars. “If you've got a success you're looking at pretty much pure profit.”

They finished their beers and Rune got up to get more. She shut the camera off. He said, “I wasn't much help, was I?”

An older man in a red windbreaker...

“No, you were real helpful,” Rune said.

As she returned with the beers she felt his eyes on her. And she knew the Question was coming. She didn't know exactly what form it would take but, as a single woman in New York, she'd have bet a thousand dollars that Hathaway was about to ask her the Question.

He took a sip of beer and asked, “So. Hey. You want to get a pizza or something?”

The Pizza version of the Question. A pretty common one.

“I'm really beat tonight...”

Which was one of the classic Answers. But she added, “I really am exhausted. But how 'bout a rain check?”

He smiled a little bashfully, which she liked. “Got it. You, uh, going with anybody?”

She thought for a moment, then said, “I have absolutely no idea.”

He stood up, shook her hand like the gentleman his mother had probably always instructed him to be. He said, “I'm going to check out some numbers about documentary films.” He considered something and smiled. “You know, even if it's a flop, hell, you've got a great tax write-off.”

“I'm not much help, I'm afraid,” Nicole D'Orleans said to Rune the next morning.

“Somebody wearing a red windbreaker or jacket. Anybody at all. Wearing a hat. Like a cowboy hat maybe. Hanging around the set. Maybe a fan of Shelly's or something. Maybe somebody she knew.”

Nicole shook her head.