The director propositions Maisie.

“You’re lookin’ hot, Maisie,” Dennis said, looking her up and down in her chair. On instinct, she crossed one leg over the other and crossed her arms over her chest, but it wasn’t like he wasn’t ogling her. Most guys didn’t dare talk to her so bluntly, but apparently it was different when it came to Hollywood big-shots.

Even she had to blush, and she was a Victoria’s Secret model. She didn’t make eye contact. “Thanks,” she said. “I, uh, I try.” I try? What kind of response was that? Then again, what kind of grown man said things like “You’re lookin’ pretty hot, Maisie”?

“When I saw you on the runway last fall I knew I needed you in my film,” Bon said. Now that was more normal. She had heard ‘job offers’ like those before, though they were usually coming from half-baked film students and not billion-dollar Hollywood A-list directors. “Yknow why?” he said with a strange squint. He was practically crawling across the desk, pushing his face toward hers.

Maisie was actually blushing. How long had it been since someone had made her blush? Not long enough. “Why?” she said, trying to look away from him.

“It was that look in your eye,” he said. “The other girls pretend like they’re innocent, even when they’ve got their tits out. But everyone knows Maisie Williams gives it up.” His face was red, and there was sweat on his brow.

Maisie wanted to speak up. She wasn’t even that slutty! Sure, she had had her share of guys, and even a girl or two, but nothing unusual for a star like her. Hell, even Sarah fucked more than she did. But when Dennis Bon said he wanted her sluttiness... well. It was obvious that he wanted her sluttiness. “Hah,” Maisie said, affecting a carefree smile. “Thanks.”

Dennis smiled. “I knew I was right!” he barked, snapping his fingers. “That’s why I know you’ll be interested in the prerequisite I have for getting this job.”

Maisie gulped. “What do you mean?” she said.