Maggie
The news demanded her attention all morning. She'd slept little, concerns about the city she'd come to appreciate running around her mind. After finally pulling herself out of bed, exhausted, she decided to try to distract herself by replying to her cousin's latest email. Grabbing her laptop, she left her room in search of coffee before settling on the couch in front of the TV. She absentmindedly re-read Eden's email before attempting a response.
I'm sorry I haven't replied sooner, things have just been a little busy here. Sholto looks like he's growing up to be a gorgeous dog! I can't wait to meet him when I'm able to visit next. I miss you all. I wish I could find the words to describe what has been going on down here, but maybe you'll have seen it on the news. It seems we've garnered national attention at this point.
She paused, hearing the newscaster mention The Mill and the festival. They then moved on to discussing the Ghosts and their boycott. That's where she spent the rest of the morning, watching updates on the Ghosting, before they changed feeds and she saw Becca and Nick walk out of the box office. Becca looked upset, and Nick stoic as usual. He didn't stop to answer the reporters' questions, for which Maggie found herself oddly grateful. She was afraid of what he would say.
Standing up, she decided to go see Nick and Becca, more for her own reassurance than to provide any comfort to them. Sitting around, watching from afar made her feel so useless. Walking into their apartment, she saw she wasn't the only one that had decided to visit. Butch, Nick's friend the bar owner, was there as well.
"You said there would be no repercussions!" Butch slammed his hands on the table in front of Nick, who was already looking angry. "It hasn't even been a week and already my bar has been blacklisted for being involved. I told you I wanted no part in your games, Higgins."
Regretting her decision to visit her friend, Maggie slipped quietly over to where Becca was huddled on the couch, her eyes already red from crying. Nick stood up, toe to toe with Butch but a head taller. "Well it's too late for that, ain't it? You're in this as much as anyone, and you'd have to take sides eventually. Or are you more upset that you were forced to choose our side over the owners?"
Nick's words struck a nerve, making the smaller man scowl in response. "I've got a family to take care of, I can't afford to be taking sides," he stepped back, dropping back into his chair at the table. Nick sat back down as well, most of the anger gone from his face. "You know my wife's sick, don't you?" Butch continued, speaking more softly now. "The stress of all this seems like too much for her. How long will it last?"
This obviously tugged at Nick's heartstrings, taking all signs of the previous bravado out of his expression. "Listen, I'll put the word out, maybe we can pull together and make up for the loss. At least until we see this thing through." Maggie wondered to herself if that would be enough since the lost patrons associated with the owners surely spent more money at the bar than a group of poor boycotters would. Judging by the look on Butch's face, he was thinking the same thing but didn't voice his opinion. Instead, he stood up, deciding that there was no point in continuing the conversation at that moment.
Once he was gone, Nick sighed and ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "I'm glad you're here, Maggie, Becca's been bawling her eyes out ever since we got home."
Indignant, Becca quickly wiped the tears from her eyes before saying, "So what if I have? This has been hard on all of us. Just look at poor Butch. He doesn't have the drive and spirit you do, and yet he's as tied up in this as much as anyone else."
"I told him we'd help him out, didn't I?" Nick responded, perhaps with a bit more anger than he'd intended. "I'm sorry, Becks. It's been an intense day for all of us."
Maggie decided to say something that she'd been thinking about for a while. "Won't boycotting just make the problem worse, though?" She asked Nick, trying to be tactful in her questioning.
Curious, Nick turned his attention toward Maggie. "What do you mean?" He asked with some suspicion in his voice as if he had an idea where her thoughts were headed.
Taking a deep breath, she continued, "Well, if part of the problem is that fewer bands are coming to the city because fewer people are able to go to concerts due to price, will having even lower tickets sales not make bands more likely to skip us completely?"
She could see that Nick took immediate offense to her words. "Maybe they shouldn't have gotten greedy in the first place with their exorbitant ticket prices, then we'd never be in this mess." He leaned back in his chair, daring Maggie to contradict him.
"But what if it wasn't greed? Maybe they needed to raise prices to cover their own overhead expenses. And now the situation has escalated far past that point, so eventually, there won't be any shows or venues in the city at all." The instant the words left her mouth she could see Nick's temper flaring.
Nick slammed his fist on the table with a resounding thump. "What do you know, anyway? You don't even belong down here, with all your big northern ideals and opinions. Things are different here, and you obviously don't understand them, just like any damned Yankee."
Startled at his vehemence, Maggie thought to backtrack a bit, saying, "You're right, things are very different here. But I'm sure the owners didn't raise prices purely out of a desire for more profits."
"I don't care about their reasons! They can go to hell, all of them. Slickson, Hamper, even Thornton. Screw them!" He responded bitterly.
Before Nick quickly looked away, Maggie thought she saw a sadness in his expression that didn't match the intensity in his voice. "You don't really mean that about John, do you?"
Nick looked back up at her, resignation finally overtaking his anger. "He's ornery, that's for sure. Like a mule. That's where we're alike, I suppose."
"He's cuter than a mule, that's for sure," Maggie joked, hoping to lighten the mood some. She was rewarded with a small smile from Becca, who had been looking more and more downtrodden as the conversation continued. Usually, she would tease Maggie about a statement like that; it worried Maggie that she let such an opportunity pass by.
With a shake of his head, Nick stood up and grabbed his keys. "He won't go down without a fight, I know that much. Listen, I don't want to argue about this anymore. I'll see y'all later." He closed the door quietly behind him, leaving the girls frowning after him.
John
To say he was stressed would be an enormous understatement. The last few days had been absolute hell. His mother was doubly stressed, making final preparations for the dinner while also worrying about the boycott. Their phone had been ringing off the hook; promoters, investors, and reporters all wanting John's thoughts and opinions on the situation. To top it off, he still hadn't heard from Williams- not that he'd expected to, Williams was the type to just show up unannounced.
At least The Mill looked in tip-top shape. He'd swung by earlier in the day to check on the preparations. Of course, there were reporters skulking about, all wanting something from him. He just prayed Williams would come through, help him put his plan into action, and all this would be over soon. Sighing, he finished getting ready for the party, a quick glance in the mirror showing that his appearance was in order.
It wasn't often that he got the opportunity to wear his tux, but when he did, it made him feel a bit like James Bond. Those rare occasions were some of the only times that he felt truly dashing, and this night was no different. Cleanly shaven and hair perfectly coiffed, he gave his reflection a small nod before heading out the door. As awful as the week had been so far, his heart gave a small thrill at the thought of seeing Maggie. It felt like years since their paths had crossed, though he was subconsciously on the lookout for her whenever there was a chance they might meet.
Once at The Mill, he was glad to see that everything seemed to be in order. He'd been half worried the Ghosts would cause some kind of scene, but so far everything was quiet. His mom had outdone herself with the decorations, transforming the main hall room into an exquisite yet understated dining area. John knew The Mill itself was a bit rough around the edges- that was part of the appeal, under normal circumstances. But his mother never ceased to amaze him with her ability to polish the space into something spectacular.
Mrs. Thornton herself was the picture of elegance and grace. Never one to dress extravagantly, her aura came more from the way she carried herself than from her attire. Faith, too, looked abnormally lovely in her new gown, which she had insisted was a necessity. It certainly wouldn't do for her to be seen in last years fashion; what kind of message would that send?
Before long, guests started to arrive, and the family was occupied with greeting and mingling with their peers. The turnout was better than expected; John supposed he wasn't the only one who needed some distraction from the current state of affairs. Everyone was dressed to the nines, smiles plastered on their faces as they silently agreed to pretend nothing was wrong for a little while.
He was making small talk with a local celebrity chef when he spotted Maggie and her father come in the door. Suddenly everyone seemed to be moving in slow motion. John was vaguely aware of his rudeness as he abruptly cut off his current conversation, but when the chef saw what had caught his host's attention, he couldn't help but smile. He wouldn't fault the young man for being distracted by such a dashing beauty.
It was as if his legs moved without his direction, and before John knew what was happening he was making his way through the crowd towards the Hales. He was pleased to see his mother and sister greeting them with warmth and hospitality, though he should have known they would never shirk their duties on such an important occasion. Faith was looking enviously at Maggie's gown, which was a deep green color that set off her porcelain skin perfectly.
Unfortunately, before he could reach the Hales and his family, his attention was caught by Mr. Bell. John wasn't so far gone that he would just ignore his mentor and biggest investor. "Bell, I didn't think you'd be back in town in time for the dinner," John asked in surprise since the man himself had told him not to expect his attendance.
"Well, you know how it goes, Thornton. I thought it best to come on back and check up on things." The object of John's attention hadn't escaped the older man's notice, and he was eyeing his young friend intently.
Feeling the intensity of Bell's discerning gaze, John colored a little a cleared his throat. "I hate that you cut your trip short, then. I assure we have everything under control here," he said, hoping to sound more confident than he felt. Mr. Latimer, his banker, who was standing nearby, overheard his comments and snorted. John decided to ignore his derision and continue his mission of more pleasant pursuits.
Mr. Bell had a different plan in mind. "Oh no, my boy, no doubt." He turned to include Mr. Latimer and his daughter in the conversation. "John knows I have complete confidence in him, don't you, John? Lord knows you've shown your capabilities time and time again. You've met Mr. Latimer's daughter, Annie, haven't you?"
It took great effort for John to push down his impatience, but he smiled smoothly at Annie, shaking her hand politely at their reintroduction. He'd met her some years before, as she was one of Faith's many school friends. He'd always found her a bit mousy, though he supposed she'd turned out to be an alright looking girl. Her hand was cold and frail feeling, though, missing the warmth he'd felt from Maggie's handshake.
Maggie. He could sense that she was still nearby, prompting him to glance around a moment before their eyes locked. She smiled at him, catching him off guard with the open friendly expression on her face. With a quick word of excuse to Mr. Bell and the Latimers, John continued his journey towards the Hales. Maggie instantly extended her hand to him, still smiling warmly as she clasped his much larger hand in both of hers.
"We really appreciated the hospitality y'all have shown," she said, a twinkle in her eye as she still held his hand in hers. "See, John, I'm starting to get used to your southern ways." He could tell by her tone and expression that she was teasing him, as someone might tease a friend. There was none of the malice he had felt the last time she made such a comment, thought the words themselves were similar enough.
Her presence and demeanor were making him suddenly light-headed, and he struggled for something to say before the moment was lost. It wouldn't do to just stand there smiling like a fool. "I'm sorry your mother wasn't well enough to come," he said, squeezing her hands before letting them go. She seemed to realize she'd held on a few moments too long, and she blushed slightly, nodding with a small, sad smile.
It seemed as if she were about to say something further but was interrupted by a man tapping on John's shoulder. He turned, irritated at the interruption, but his ire was instantly transformed when he saw who was standing behind him. "Williams! I knew you would make it!" He grinned, shaking his old friend's hand before pulling him into a hug. It was a relief to see the burly, bearded man in the flesh after only seeing him on TV and magazine covers for the last year or so.
"Oof, Thornton, I'm daintier than I look. Let a man breathe, won't ya?" Some things never changed; he'd always had the worst timing. John took a step back and looked at the serious expression on his friend's face. "Now, what's with this mess? You've been all over the news, John. How could I not rush over here when I got your message?"
With a small sigh, John looked over at Maggie, who was standing to the side watching their interaction with curiosity. He gave her an apologetic smile before turning back towards Williams. "Come on, we have a few minutes before dinner is served. Let's talk in my study." He could feel Maggie's questioning gaze on his back as he led the other man away. Bad timing, for sure.
Maggie
It was very kind of Becca to help her get ready. Maggie wasn't sure her friend would still be up for it, after the events of the past few days. It had to be painful, helping her get ready for a party she would normally be attending herself. She had told Maggie that John always made sure to invite important members of his staff, a list which included Becca and Nick. Maggie could see the sadness lingering in the other girl's eyes as she fixed her curls that afternoon. The boycott was taking a heavy toll on Becca, both mentally and physically.
Becca made short work of Maggie's difficult hair, fingers skillfully twirling and pinning until every lock was up in an intricate design, making Maggie feel like royalty. "Man, I wish you could do my hair every day! This is amazing. You have real talent, Becca."
Shaking her head, Becca smiled sadly. "I'm just glad you're getting to go. The Thorntons' parties are always a fun time. You'll have to be sure to tell me all about it- who is there, what they were wearing. Everything."
Maggie stood up and gave her friend a hug. "I'm so sorry. I can't imagine how hard this is for you." She felt tears of sympathy welling up in her eyes, threatening to ruin the hard work Becca had put into her makeup.
"Oh, stop it. Your mascara will run. Come on, it's alright. I didn't have anything to wear, anyway." With that, she picked up Maggie's gown and handed it to her. "Get dressed so I can see the full effect before I leave."
Happy to oblige, Maggie finished getting ready and did a twirl. "Satisfied, fairy godmother? Think I'll pass as a princess until the clock strikes midnight?" Her antics earned a smile from Becca, who gave her approval of the final product. Maggie had to admit, looking in the full-length mirror on the back of her door, she did look nicer than usual. Surely not as nice as some of the elite ladies who would be attending the party, but overall, she was happy with her appearance.
Before long, it was almost time for Maggie and her father to leave, so she regretfully said goodbye to her mother and friend, both of whom she wished could attend the party as well. There was some odd anxiety building up inside her, a feeling like butterflies making her heart flutter. Maggie wondered what the cause of that could be- she chalked it up to the general stress of the week.
When they arrived at The Mill, both Maggie and her father were amazed at its transformation. The top room was almost unrecognizable, decked out in all its glory. Everyone there was attired in a similar fashion. No one wanted to be underdressed at such a soiree. Maggie subconsciously looked around for John, spying him on the other side of the room, thoroughly engaged in conversation. He looked especially handsome in his tux, standing tall and playing the picture-perfect host. She wasn't sure if he'd noticed her yet and was intercepted by Mrs. Thornton and Faith before she could catch his eye.
The Thornton ladies also looked lovely as they greeted Maggie and her father warmly. She was glad for it; she'd been worried that there would be some animosity towards her due to her friendship with the Higgins. "I'm sorry your mom wasn't feeling well enough to join you," Faith said after greeting them.
"Thank you, I'm sure the peace and quiet will have her feeling better in no time," Maggie lied, not wanting to really discuss her mother's illness at the moment. She wanted to just enjoy herself for the night, to not have to worry about all the things that have been weighing on her mind.
Faith seemed to understand and gave her a kind smile. "Well, I wonder if enjoy these essentials oils I've been using. You just put them in a diffuser and they're very relaxing. Maybe they might help her… rest." She looked a little unsure, thinking it was a small offering to someone who seemed so ill.
Though it wasn't much, Maggie really appreciated the concern Faith had shown. "Thank you, that does sound like something she might like." She was about to say more, but John caught her attention as he moved across the room. He seemed to be making his way towards them but was stopped by Mr. Bell. She couldn't be too upset; this gave her a perfect opportunity to observe him from afar.
Her initial impression was certainly correct- he looked incredibly handsome. In his tuxedo, he seemed every bit as dashing as a foreign spy in a movie, dark and mysterious. She was glad to see him smiling, though it didn't always reach his eyes, and there were lines between his brows that she hadn't noticed before. The stress of this mess was taking a visible toll on him, making Maggie wonder if he was getting enough sleep and eating properly.
What an odd thought, she caught herself, how is any of that my business? It's not my responsibility to worry about him like that. And yet, she couldn't help but be concerned about him. Surely, even someone as powerful and competent as he was needed someone to take care of them. It was in that moment that John looked up and caught her eye, smiling sweetly. She was quick to smile back, glad when he started back towards their group.
The urge to clasp his hand in hers was too strong to ignore, stemming from some deep-seated desire to erase the memory of their previous encounter. His hand was warm and strong, sending a tingling sensation shooting through her fingertips. She wasn't entirely aware of what words she said but could tell they pleased him. There was an acute sense of loss in her heart when he released his hold on her hand, and embarrassment rushed through her.
Ever the gallant host, John moved the conversation forward, covering over her embarrassing display. She was grateful and would have continued talking to him like a normal person had they not been interrupted by the bear of a man that snuck up behind John. She could see the flash of irritation on his face at the disturbance, soon replaced by a pure, boyish grin.
Who was this strange man, who was able to change John's mood in an instant? Maggie felt strangely jealous. That feeling was intensified when he led John away, leaving her wondering what sort of secret conversation they were going to have. Of course, it was none of her business, but she was acutely aware of John's absence from the room until they returned, still laughing and joking with each other like the best of friends.