I Believe We had an Appointment?

[MARY ANNE SPENCER]

Mary Anne had been waiting precisely 17 minutes by this point. As she stood there, one arm resting on the hostess's podium while the other arm was held at a rigid attention in order for her to check the time on her watch, she tapped her toe with military precision, a sure sign that she was certainly most displeased. All was not well. Mary Anne had timed her appointment to a very specific window in her schedule, and already over a quarter of an hour had been wasted. Did this vile Jezebel live with no regards for other people's time? It was a disgusting display of the true colors of corporate America. Mary Anne attempted to reach out once, JUST ONCE, to give them a second chance to take back their hedonistic ways and rejoin polite society. She had even chosen one of the classier restaurants to ask to host her annual Chastity Ball, and what did she get? A manager who didn't care about the common people. It was disgusting. She was like Lot, searching Sodom for anyone who would recant their heathen ways, and rather than finding souls of virtue she stumbled upon those who would rather bother Angels than do God's work.

"This is getting ridiculous!," she steamed to the hostess, raising her voice just so that it would be PERFECTLY clear to the girl (who Mary Anne found to be a bit slow, the poor dear) that we was right and properly irritated, and yet always below shouting level."I quite clearly made an appointment to meet with this Miss Sinclaire. I have every right to burst back there and give her a right talking to, Miss. Every. Right."

This was truly a wretched situation. She was by now getting quite flustered, and once Mary Anne was duly flustered there was no power on God's Great Earth that could soothe her until she'd had her way. Lord have mercy upon whatever foolish Hostess tried to stand in her way THEN!

outfit:This fine fashion choice made by Molly
words:448
tagged:the most lovely Maggie

[MAGGIE SINCLAIRE]

OUTFIT DE LA HEARTS!

Marguerite Sinclaire checked her reflection again, as she vaguely noticed the time. She was a sight, most certainly. This bible thumping ninny would most certainly eat it up. The white, fifties vintage, dress snugged around the ginger's frame perfectly, giving her an appearance of old timey values and dated beliefs. Though, with a Maggie flare, as it was speckled with hearts and had a red sash around the middle, as well as red and black taffeta to give the skirt a bit of oomf. She wore nude stockings, so as to not show too much skin, and shiny red heels, which were simple but bold. Her nails were manicured, despite the fact that she was wearing white lace gloves, to give herself an ever so English lady of status motif. Pearl earrings, a cross nestled piously between her mostly enclosed bosom, a barely visible 'purity' ring around her someday marriage finger. As she applied the red lipstick to her lips, Maggie couldn't help but think about how this had better be worth it.

Though, she was sure it would be.

After all, it was Mary Anne Spencer.

Heiress to one of the biggest Tea fortunes in the Western World, daughter of one of the most distinguished Wedding Gown designers. A real lady of society, which Marguerite was determined to distinguish herself as.

So... if she had to put on this retarded little 'chastity ball' thing, so be it. Besides, it would be excellent publicity. 'Bleeding Hearts: Home of Fine Cuisine and Crusaders for True Love.' Daddy would be most pleased with her, that was for sure. Pulling her hair into an elegant bun, Maggie smiled to herself. Who knew, maybe she'd get a dress out of the little nit.

Checking the time, Marguerite decided that twenty minutes was more than enough time to keep the girl waiting. Grabbing a clipboard for the plans, as well as a small pocket bible, Maggie's heels clicked out of her office, only to see Miss Spencer causing a bit of a fuss. But all was well. Maggie knew how to diffuse.

Throw the Hostess under the fucking bus.

"Jeanette!?" Maggie spoke up, bringing the hostess's attention on her. Poor thing, looked terrified. After all, an obvious scolding was about to occur, and Maggie had clearly told Jeanette to do exactly what she was doing. Ah well. "I do hope this is not Miss Spencer you are keeping waiting! She is a very important client." Maggie did not raise her voice, as it was unnecessary. Her tone was enough to freeze water instantly, as it was. Jeannette nodded, eyes wide, confirming this was indeed Miss Spencer. Maggie suppressed a grin, keeping her face stone. "I see. Darling, I know I told you all not to bother me under normal circumstances from my devotions, but this is certainly not normal circumstances, is it?" Jeanette, utterly confused, just shook her head no. The staff already knew better than to cross their boss. "Why don't you go and be useful, and fetch some menus. We'll be in the courtyard." Maggie snapped, waving Jeanette away, her hazel eyes severe.

Turning to Mary Anne, she found the girl attractive enough. A bit bony, perhaps, but not terrible to look at. Yes, she would be suitable. Reaching out her hand, she took Mary Anne's apologetically. "I dearly apologize Miss Spencer. Would you please come right this way?" Smiling warmly, Marguerite lead her to the courtyard of the restaurant. It was a coveted dining area by patrons, with it's private hedges filled with red roses, and it's lovely two seating chairs. It had the feel of a English garden, mixed with an Italian vineyard, but tied together in a French bow of romance.

Perfection.

"It's such a pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Spencer." Gushed Maggie, as she sat down at the table, her eyes showing admiration that she did not sincerely feel. "It's so refreshing to find someone of class in a city like this." Smiling a simpering grin, Jeanette came out with the menus, before scooting away to do whatever the hell it was that she did. "Now, of course don't mind the price of anything, as it is all on the house. But I do ask that you eat light so that we may sample some of our delectable hors d'ourves a little later on for this wonderful ball."

This was too easy.

[MARY ANNE SPENCER]

Mary Anne was disgusted. Mary Anne was Offended! Mary Anne was getting it in her mind that she should just take her fine business elsewhere, thank you very much, and pay no heed to any more of the minions of the Dark One on Earth as they presented themselves in the form of corporations. She was -

Oh, goodness gracious. All that rage just flew right out of he once Mary Anne got one good look at the beautiful LADY that strode with confidence out of that back room. It was like watching the descent of the blessed Virgin from heaven based on the way the beautiful figure in white commanded attention and strutted with such poise and grace. Mary Anne had nearly given up trying to find her equal in this city of sinners and sex maniacs, but here, with this woman gliding nearer ever so wondrously closer, Mary Anne felt a surge hope once more. If such fine women as she could exist in this foul place, then there must be reason to believe that God's plan had yet to be totally forsaken, mustn't there?

Mary Anne felt a tear of pride rise up within her as she heard the woman speak up for her with such authority and kindness. Here was a woman who really knew what manners meant! Here was a fine, upstanding example of a woman who felt the same sense of moral indignation at the thought of forcing a young lady like Mary Anne to wait. Oh, how she ordered that foul little heathen around, as if she had fully embraced the Grace of God and the authority He provided. It was enough to make Mary Anne weep for joy.

Daintily, she allowed herself to be led out into the most charming of courtyards, where almost instantaneously she felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her. It was like she had stepped out f that awful, WRETCHED city and back into a light and lovely English garden. Oh, how she used to adore the rose bushes back home, which Mother would tend to every weekend when she forced herself to stop working for a period of one hour, so that she might reinsert herself into the workings of the household. Oh, yes, this was it. This was most certainly the place that Mary Anne wanted to hold the chastity ball. If the charm of an English garden couldn't cure the ragamuffins of their sinister urges, what could?

She was so starstruck by the entire situation she didn't know exactly where to begin with her sentences. While part of her knew (INSISTED) that a Lady ought never open her mouth lest she already have formulated each word and sentence thoughtfully and carefully, so as to avoid saying anything potentially embarrassing that would cme back t haunt her in her later years, Mary Anne couldn't help herself. She had to absolutely gush about the glory of it all, the rules f polite society be damned. This fine paragon of moral virtue would understand!

"My word, miss, this is simply fantastic, FANTASTIC! I quite happily can tell you that you are the only person in this godforsaken city that I would feel comfortable entrusting the care of the Chastity Ball to. I dare say I didn't believe that I could ever even find such a lovely little place like this, let alone such a fine, upstanding, WONDERFUL lady as yourself. It's simply boggling to see all the care that you've put into running such a perfectly classy operation, I adore it all, I really do. It's the least I can do to thank you for this, it's all just so amazing. I'm flabbergasted. "

She stopped herself, and smiled meekly, remembering herself. As she felt a bit of a flush come to her cheeks, she began perusing the menu, hoping that little outburst hadn't hurt her reputation with the wondrous Miss Sinclair. "I suppose your tarts are to die for?"

[MAGGIE SINCLAIRE]

What a simp. She was eating Maggie's act up like a cat laps up milk. Honestly, it was too easy sometimes, it would almost be boring to her. Almost. There was a great satisfaction in putting the whole charade together. The outfit, the mood, the mannerisms. In her natural state, Maggie wouldn't be sitting with her ankles crossed daintily, or her sitting with her back so rigidly straight. She wouldn't be smiling, with a please but modest smile arch on her lips. It was all part of the ride. It was all part of the act.

"Miss Spencer, you're too kind." Maggie's eyes fluttered, as an appropriate pinkness filled her cheeks. "It's truly my honor to host this event. The salvation of New York City's youth is a personal passion of mine." What. A. Load. Maggie Sinclaire was a virgin, like the Pope was a protestant. "But I will make it my personal duty to make this party go off without a hitch, I assure Miss Spencer. You are in good hands."

Removing her dainty lace gloves, and revealing the truly appalling purity ring on her lift ring finger casually, Maggie's eyes flushed over the menu as she addressed Mary Anne's inquisition on the Restaurants Tarts. "Our Strawberry Pomagrante tarts are a house special, actually. I'm simply dying to have you try one. However, while we get to know one another a little better-" Maggie looked possibly thrilled with this possibility, smiling at the younger girl invitingly. "May I suggest the Grilled Chicken Ceaser Salad, and a refreshing cup of Earl Grey?"

Truly, Maggie was already sick of this. But, maybe, after some digging, Maggie could find something of interest in this girl. Other than her Mother's design abilities, and Mary Anne's good name. Already she could see a little passion in Mary Anne's eyes. A little fire. Had it not been marred by this pesky virginity promise, Mary Anne could actually be a person of interest. Perhaps, getting to know Mary Anne a little better, she could find some potential. After all, Maggie had been known to inspire people to do quite interesting things. "So, Mary Anne. Tell me all about you! I'm dying to get in touch with a lady of society."

[MARY ANNE SPENCER]

Oh goodness, Mary Anne could feel the calm, collected clarity that she hadn't felt in ever so long. Something about this dreadful city of lead and steel made her feel ever so anxious at all hours of the day. She felt like she could finally just kick back her heels and relax instead of constantly looking for more sinners to warn about the dangers of their ways. Casting a quick eye around the garden, Mary Anne was thoroughly impressed with the levels of delicate modesty she saw at each table, as couples sat daintily across from each other. There was not a tonguing session to be found in the entire courtyard! Each pair seemed perfectly content sitting at a respectable distance from each other, not trying to attempt anything funny while they were out in public. Goodness Gracious, it was like she was back in England, where all the proper Gents knew their place in society, and the wonderful young ladies of society kept the majority of their skin.... covered. Why it was just such a change from the veritable wild packs of animals that roamed the streets and her school, always itching to tear each other's clothing off. It was such a refreshing experience for Mary Anne to have finally found a safe haven among the turmoil of America, where she could spend a little time of rest and recuperation amongst a more civilized breed of mankind.

Mary Anne nodded to the helpful suggestion from her lovely hostess here at Bleeding Hearts, giving the menu one last flick of her eyes before placing it back down on the table in front of her and folding her hands daintily over it, smiling ever so graciously at Miss Sinclaire. How perfectly wonderful to have such a lovely woman as her guide for the delicious treats here at the restaurant! And she was even asking for Mary Anne's description of the polite society she grew up in, a topic which Mary Anne could discuss for hours at a time and yet was hardly EVER asked about.

"Oh, gosh, miss. I'm really nothing to talk about. You know how the Lord approves of modesty above all else," Mary Anne began, as she always did when she began to list all the various achievements she had received in life. "But, if you insist, I suppose I can't help but oblige you with some facts about little old me. As you may well be aware, I grew up in jolly old England. If you haven't been, I suggest you make it your next destination. It's simply a beautiful country, and I guarantee you won't be as hard pressed to find a gentleman or a proper lady there as you are here." Mary Anne sighed lightly, reminiscing about the wonder that was her home country.

"But as I was saying, since I've come here, my mother has granted me a bit of spending cash to sponsor a few of these chastity balls, in order to raise awareness about the sin that is pre-marital sex. I'm sure you know that she specializes in designing wedding gowns, so it's simply peachy that she chooses to help out. I suppose you have no trouble imagining the evils of heathen coupling outside of wedlock, what with such a classy restaurant as this."

[MAGGIE SINCLAIRE]

As Maggie listened to the girl, a smile of pure and utter interest and affection placed fixedly on her pretty face, she had the incredibly obscene image of a man jerking himself off. The young, long winded, bony, Miss Spencer started her politely spoken tirade of self promotion off with false modesty, before blathering on about Jolly Old England. Maggie had gone there, when she was fourteen. And, quite frankly, it was boring and wet and positively droll. And the London punk scene that Maggie so distinctly remembered highly contradicted Little Miss Spencer's boahblahwordblahs about how England was so much classier than the states.

And again they were on the horrors of premarital sex. Honestly, if God had that big of an issue with it, he wouldn't make Virgins so terrible their first time around. And two virgins together? Oh, it's so beautiful and LIESLIESLIES. Two virgins together is awkward and horribly uncomfortable. Better to have someone who knows what the hell they are doing, if not both. Sex was meant to be an enjoyed experience, after all.

Maggie loved sex. She adored it! She loved everything about it: the sensations, the smells. She especially love the feel of a man, adoring her body. Worshiping her. All that muscle and sinew pressed against her body, devoting itself purely to her pleasure. And then when one added friction. The tactile sensation of running her tongue over a man's flesh ever so gently. And then there's the act itself; two bodies becoming one in that final eruption of pleasure. It was probably the closest thing to empathy Maggie ever felt with a person.

To be honest, the only thing Maggie disliked about sex is the scrotum. Seriously, it obviously it has its practical applications but she was just not a fan.

This Mary Anne obviously had no idea what she was missing out on...

Maggie's eyes widened a little, as her devious mind began to plot, though the rest of her face stayed still and friendly. As she ordered her and Mary Anne's food, the plan formulated in her mind. She would corrupt the oh so prim Miss Spencer. She would bring the little Brit-Bitch down to the level of the scummers below. And all under the guise of the loving, her-best-interest-at-heart, mentor. It would be a great deal of fun, and perhaps she could see Twiggy break down a bit. Oh, the hilarity of that! But what a challenge, to break the posh little priss, to corrupt someone with the mindset of a Disney Princess (pure of heart and full of Jew hate).

Nodding at the compliment paid to her, Maggie kept her movements slight and lady like. Patience, working her way in slowly, earn the little twits trust. That's what she needed to do here.

Mary Anne would not take any advice from Maggie until she trusted her completely. "I am honored you'd trust me with such an important mission, Miss Spencer. Honestly, love, above all other things but God, is all I care about. And that's what this is all about, right? The love that should be shared between two people, when happily bound in the embrace of wedlock. And, of course, sharing it with no other person before the 'I do's' were shared." Love, what a laughable concept. Maggie Sinclaire had never loved anyone or anything but herself. Maybe money. Oh! And that gorgeous, custom made, red cocktail dress she had. She could say that she loved that. But, otherwise, it was all about what people could do for her.

[MARY ANNE SPENCER]

Truly, this was what civilization really ought to be. There was no need for any of that frivolous gossip and rumor spreading that popular culture seemed to embrace ever so much. Instead, people ought to see that true bliss was found in more intimate conversations such as this. Two people sharing their thoughts and achievements and feelings. Miss Sinclaire obviously understood this. She was just so classy and understanding. It gave Mary Anne a sense of peace and relaxation. She felt that she could share anything with this woman. With this friend.

"I am honored you'd trust me with such an important mission, Miss Spencer. Honestly, love, above all other things but God, is all I care about. And that's what this is all about, right? The love that should be shared between two people, when happily bound in the embrace of wedlock. And, of course, sharing it with no other person before the 'I do's' were shared."

This was moving along more smoothly than Mary Anne had anticipated. All that bothersome worry that she had harbored earlier on had just been for nothing. Now she felt loose and calm and quite at ease. She had to admit, she'd been a tad bit concerned about all that nonsense with being late, and she hadn't been so sure that Miss Sinclaire's restaurant had been quite up to snuff in order to host the chastity ball, but now all her fears were allayed. She was quite certain that this would be the ONLY facility that would do the chastity ball justice.

"Now, Miss Sinclaire, I have to say, while I've certainly heard all about you from my various sources around town, I hope you won't make me beg for a bit of backstory straight from the horse's mouth." Mary Anne gave one of her more feminine guffaws of mock horror. "I am ever so interested in what got you where you are today, however. If you don't mind my saying, you're exactly the type of woman that girls these days need to look up to. Your story could prove to be such a source of inspiration for us all!" Mary Anne paused for a moment, contemplating the subject a bit longer. Yes! Now that she had said it the whole thing seemed dreadfully obvious to her. "You know, you really could be, well, the face of our movement! You could inspire so many to make the right decision when it comes to their bodies. You could be the hope for a new generation!" Mary Anne was starting to get excited now, her eyes lighting up as she surmised her new ticket to saving souls in the city.

[MAGGIE SINCLAIRE]

Now, one had to realize, Maggie loved her face. Ever the little narcissist, she would sometimes simply spend a bit of her day to gaze at herself. Her porcelain skin, her vermillion locks, her pouted heart lips, her round golden-green eyes. She loved every inch of her face, and spent a great deal of money on spa treatments, natural make up, face creams, and pore shrinking therapy to keep it so lovely.

However.

Becoming the face of New York City's booming chastity movement did not sound in the least bit appealing to Maggie Sinclaire. Not even a little bit. While she wanted to be universally adored and feared, that was simply not the way to go about it. But she bit back her tongue, which threatened to release quite the sarcastic remark, and instead focused on keeping her gaze demure, yet austere. Somehow she had to wriggle her way out of this. Somehow... somehow.

"Oh me? Certainly not!" Maggie giggled gently, lowering her eyelids to reveal a modest gaze. "My darling Miss Spencer, I simply could not possibly be the face of such an important movement, when you are simply so made for it. In fact, I do believe that we were clandestine to meet. With you leading the campaign, and me being a faithful supervisor, we would be quite the force. Don't you think?" Oh, it would be impossible for this girl to shake off such flattery from Maggie. She would eat it up, a thirsty dog at his bowl. But to be sure, Maggie had to lay it on thick. "You're beautiful, of good breeding, charming, passionate, God fearing. Why, if you believe in Holy missions, Miss Spencer, you must truly believe that God sent you to New York City to start an age of reason and morals for your peers."

Placing her hand, the one that bore the the promise ring, on top of Mary Anne Spencer's, everything about the gaze she delivered spoke of innocence and full belief and confidence in her words.

But behind that saintly face, Maggie schemed. Not to achieve anything, other than amusement.

She wasn't lying. No, Maggie would work tirelessly on making Mary Anne the face of purity, chastity, and God love. With some fine tuning, this girl could be a Jim Jones or David Karesh. Leading those who long to be filled with Christ love, who let themselves be lead by a charismatic leader. Mary Anne Spencer would be placed on a pedestal, for all the world to see. All the while, trusting Maggie with her whole heart. After all, Maggie won't have lead her wrong.

And that shall be Mary Anne's undoing.

Under every saint, lies a whore. And Maggie was determined to find Mary Anne's.

But first: Trust.

"But if you would like to, I'd be more than happy to tell you about myself. Of course, only if you'd give me the pleasure of returning the favor." Their food arrived, the smell of the Caesar dressing filling Maggie's nostrils. With the most absolutely sincere eyes that Maggie could create, she smiled at her lunch mate. "Would you like to say grace, Mary Anne?"

[MARY ANNE SPENCER]

Now, it's important to note that by no means was Mary Anne the type to get overly excited about things and count all her chickens before they hatched. On the contrary, she was a firm believer in Murphy's Law, and knew that due to the sinful nature of Americans and their ungodly, impious lack of moral structure things were often apt to fall apart before her very eyes. This instance, however, well.... It certainly got her blood boiling. She could see now just how much good could be done with such a prestigious, powerful woman on her side. Maggie was everything that Mary Anne wanted to be. She was everything that Mary Anne prized in a person. Against all odds, mary Anne had found herself a role model amdist a city of sinners and liars and thieves and ragamuffins. It was.... it was a dream come true to be honest. Mary Anne had always thought that she needed a strong female figure in her life. Sure, she had her mother, but she was often not available, and when she was she all too often took Lizzie or Georgianna's side in a fight. It was simply not acceptable. Mary Anne loved her mother to death but she certainly was no Sinclaire, and that was the truth.

This was truly a day where Mary Anne's standards were being broken. Under normal circumstances she would hardly enjoy having her suggestion for such a gorgeous young paragon of womanly strength shot down in such a way, but Miss Sinclaire was hardly ordinary. She had such a way with words that it was near impossible for Mary Anne to disapprove of any suggestion that might be put forth. Also, it didn't hurt that there was more than a grain of truth in what the lovely lady said. Mary Anne, though never being overly PRIDEFUL of her looks, had always known that by the mere virtue of her strong moral fiber and propriety, the Lord had deigned her worthy of a blessing of good looks.

Mary Anne averted her eyes momentarily, blushing under the power of such, well, praise. She twisted her ring around her finger a few times as she listened to her compliments. "Well, you know, Pride is by far the worst of the seven deadly sins....but I sppose since you're merely observing what are quite clearly obvious facts it can't hardly count as sinfulness if I agree, could it?" She made eye contact for one brief moment as a guilty smile lit up her face. She knew that the Lord would never accept such a cop-out for sinfulness, and Mary Anne would most certainly have to bring it up at her weekly trip to the Confessional, but for now it was of so delightfully pleasant to be prideful, at least for once. And she was certain that she was in company that would understand she meant no malice by it.

The fact that she put her hand on top of Mary Anne's showed a sign of intimacy in a way that Mary Anne had previously not foreseen in this relationship. Not in any sort of deviant sexual way, but signifying a close relationship, as of a Mother to a Daughter. Mary Anne felt personally connected to Miss Sinclaire. It was ever so wonderful.

With the arrival of their food, the quiet moment of togetherness was paused. Mary Anne's face lit up with delight upon seeing their meal. Goodness, not only was Miss Sinclaire clearly a kind, successful, Godfearing woman... she also owned the restaurant that served the most delicious looking meals Mary Anne had ever the pleasure of feasting her eyes thereon!

"I'd adore to give grace!" she chirped, her eyes lighting up like a child on Christmas day. Folding her hands together, she closed her eyes reverently and recited the prayer she had learned by rote. "Bless, O Father, Thy gifts to our use and us to Thy service; for Christ’s sake. Amen." She genuflected thoughtfully before opening her eyes again, pleased to have demonstrated her religious prowess in front of her role model. "Now, let me tell you before we begin, Miss Sinclaire, my expectations are thoroughly met even now before tasting the first bite. I've heard nothing but good things about you and your establishment, and let me tell you, you've proven them all correct tenfold."