It bothered Andy only a little that his meeting with Phil in the Starbucks had been filmed. Modern cameras and the aesthetic of reality shows meant hardly anyone else had noticed. No big lights, no clapboard, no hanging microphones; just three guys standing a bit away from the table, one holding a reflective piece of cardboard, one a tiny camera no bigger than a juicebox and one heavy guy with a beard and a tablet computer.

The guy with the beard was Martin Wohlers, the director, who only said, "We can use some of that," before wandering off to another table where a half-eaten blueberry scone attracted his attention.

"We'll need to get with your dad and some of the lawyers from the network and the producer," said Phil. "Work out the details of an offer."

Andy shook his head. "I'll meet with the lawyers and producer, leave my dad out of it until you need a signature."

"Uh," said Phil.

"That's the only way this will work," said Andy. "Trust me, I know my dad."

Phil shrugged. "Okay, can you come by the producers' office tomorrow? About 10? We'll buy lunch."

Andy hesitated. "That's a long trip, I don't drive and I'll have to take another day off work."

Phil nodded. "Can you make some calls and just stay the night? Then tomorrow afternoon, we'll drive you home and get your dad's signature if everything is copacetic."

Andy thought about it. "I guess so. How about some front money, an advance?"

Phil smiled. "Two hundred enough? And an expense account for food, transportation and a hotel room?"

Andy braced himself and said in a cool voice. "Five."

Phil laughed and pulled the money from the belt pouch he wore under his sweater.

Andy made the calls on Phil's cellphone since his own was a pay-as-you-go plan. His boss, Dr. Sumpwell seemed pleased that Andy might be getting a job in television, which was all that he told her. Andy's dad seemed uninterested in the details except he asked if he was expected to cook his own dinner and breakfast.

"There's stuff in the freezer, Dad," Andy muttered before hanging up, glad that the calls at least were not being filmed or recorded.

Phil, who must have phenomenal hearing and didn't miss much anyway, asked, "So you're the little homemaker?"

"While I'm out of school and not working, yeah," said Andy. He didn't mention that he'd been doing the cooking, laundry and cleaning since his mom had left for Sedona three years before, even while in school. And Thomas Wren, his father, had nixed all full time jobs even as scarce as such things were once he'd gotten used to   the housework getting done without effort on his part.

Andy just hoped his face wasn't turning red. To avoid that he tried to think of roadkill puppies lying in a gutter, a mental image that always made him sad instead of embarrassed. And one easily turned around with the help of a little imaginary Dr. Demento.

Phil's amusement lasted through making arrangements for Andy to stay in a business suites motel near the producer's office. "I can take you there now," he offered. "And the network will send a driver for you in the morning. There's a good place for breakfast next door, if you like bagels."

Andy nodded, concealing his nervousness with more artificial cool. "Can we stop somewhere for me to pick up a few things?" he asked.

"Sure," said Phil. This seemed to amuse him again. "There's a drugstore in the same strip mall as the bagel place, so you could even walk over. Or do you need someplace that carries underwear."

"Uh," said Andy. "I guess so."

"There's a K-Mart practically on the way, or a Macy's not too far."

"K-Mart," said Andy. Macy's would be in a big mall and would take more time to park and get in and out.

Phil's smile got even wider.

Andy tried not to think of Phil as a sleazy Hollywood parasite but the man's smarmy grin wasn't helping. What's so funny about going to K-Mart? He thought about it as they left the coffee shop and climbed into Phil's Lexus. Oh, Andy told himself, going to K-Mart on an expense account is kind of... dorky. "Macy's on second thought," he said aloud while fastening the seatbelt.

Phil nodded, still smiling as he put the car in gear. "I understand they have a better selection of girl's undies."

Andy couldn't help it. He jerked around to stare at Phil who winked without turning his head.

"Just saying," Phil said.

Andy sighed. "I'm going to get a lot of such comments, aren't I?"

Phil nodded. "Get used to it, I guess. Keep a sense of humor or you'll go nuts. This is better than the other project that almost got the greenlight."

"What was that?" asked Andy.

"It was called, 'Apes Like Us'. Draw your own conclusions but at least you ain't going to be rooming with an orangutuan."

Andy laughed.

Phil grinned. "Need to work on your giggle," he said.

This time, Andy knew he had failed to keep from blushing which only seemed to amuse Phil more.

"Meet you in the food court," said Phil when they pulled into the parking structure at the mall.

"Uh?" said Andy.

"I don't want to see what you buy. Suit yourself." Phil got out on his side and when Andy was out, clicked the remote to lock the doors. "But," he said, "if you do buy yourself some panties, you want size 5 or S. Full cut briefs, they'll fit better." He grinned at Andy's expression.

"How do you know that?" Andy asked.

"Intuition," said Phil, "and a wide experience in girlfriends of all shapes and sizes."

Andy frowned, trying not to show that the teasing was leaving a mark.

Just before Phil opened the door to the mall for him, the producer's assistant turned to Andy and repeated, "Meet you in the food court. You can have a salad, you've got to start watching your weight."

"Now you're just being mean," said Andy but he realized that Phil was just enjoying teasing him. "What if I turn out to be a knockout?"

"Hey," said Phil. "I'm counting on it. You are going to be the star of the show, sweetcheeks."

The phony endearment startled another half-suppressed laugh out of Andy.

"Ah, there's that giggle," said Phil. "Half an hour? Oh, better make it an hour in case you want to look at some cute shoes."

"Dammit, Phil," said Andy.

"Okay, an hour and a half, but that's the max. After that I call out the coochsniffing dogs."

Andy stopped, staring at him. "The what?"

But Phil only waved, hurrying away toward the Food Court. "I'll save a big pickle for ya," he called back.

Andy shook his head. "Guys like Phil are why women think all men are creeps," he said to himself.