Chapter 42: A Deal

My chest constricts. "What?"

"I might say the same of you," Orlando repeats.

"What do you mean?"

"You and your so-called 'doodles.' " He watches me levelly. "You claim you aren't an artist. You claim you can't tell stories. But I've seen your work, Maggie. I told you the first day we met that you have an interesting perspective, and I wasn't lying. You're talented. You're imaginative. And I think if you wanted to, you could make a career of it."

I don't know what to make of that. I pick up my glass and twirl it from side to side, watching the wine swish around. "You're just saying that because we're sleeping together."

"I assure you, I'm not. Why would I needlessly flatter you if I already know I can make you wet on command?"

He's a little too on the nose with that comment. "Okay, then you're just saying it to avoid talking about why you don't want to write your own scripts."

He doesn't answer right away, and I risk a peek up at him. He's still watching me closely, but his expre