Do I Look Lonely?

The club was empty, aside from him, the chef, and the waiter; but the latter were in the kitchen. Normally on a night like tonight it would be packed, but he'd made sure to rent the place out, at least for a little while. Chairs were set at tables that were all covered, all the lights in the joint were off except for the one on the stage and the one focused on the table he was sitting at. He took a swig of the whiskey that was in front of him and grimaced slightly. It burned on the way down but he needed the assistance from the liquid courage. He played with the lighter that he'd been using to light his cigarettes all night. The time was coming. She'd be here soon. Everything was ready. Dinner was ready and being kept warm, the plates and glasses were set up, the microphone and piano were set up, the little blue ring box was in his pocket, and a bottle of champagne was chilling in a bucket on the table. His palms were sweating as he thought of the woman with the black curls that had stolen his heart. Her crystal green eyes were so deep and clear it was like looking into an emerald. Her laugh was light and musical. She defended her beliefs with a vehemence that he couldn't even explain. A smile was playing on his lips and touching his chocolate eyes as thoughts and memories of her swirled through his head. He stood, deciding to run through the song once more before using it to impress her. It was one he'd only ever use for her. Making his way up the stairs and on to the stage he straightened out his jacket. He hummed the tune as he sat himself at the piano and begin to pick out the keys he needed. He bent his head over the ivories and began to pour his heart into the song.

She was hypnotized by it. The song was one she hadn't heard before, but as soon as she'd opened the doors his voice was filling the room. She had always loved his crooning voice, especially when those warm eyes would search her out in a crowd and sing just for her. He was so immersed in the keys and the words that he hadn't heard her little navy heels clicking on the tiled floor. Her dress matched the shade of her shoes and flared at the knees, it was covered in little white polka dots and her curls were pinned up. She made her way over to the table that was set for two and stood behind a chair as she watched him play. He was brilliant at it of course. And he had a voice that could melt snow with a single note. It was probably why the club had a running engagement with him as the headliner. The song itself was one she hadn't heard him sing before. But as she listened to the words she found tears in her eyes. As he played the final few notes she clapped her hands and let out a low whistle. He looked up shocked to see her there.

"You're early." He accused, hands trembling slightly above the keys.

"Aren't I always?" She murmured, a smile playing on her lips.

"You most certainly are." He stood and left the stage coming to stand by her side. Pulling her chair out for her when he approached, he offered a smile and placed a kiss on her cheek after she sat down.

"So, any other new songs?"

"No, just that one."

"Are you going to start playing it every night?"

"Probably not. I'll probably only play it when I catch you in the crowd." He sat down across from her as she spread her napkin on her lap.

"Just for me? You certainly know how to make a girl feel special."

"I certainly hope I do." He said with a grin. A gesture of his hand had the waiter bringing out their meal. There was a thick and hearty mushroom gravy on top of fluffy mashed potatoes next to vibrantly green asparagus and a thick slice of Beef Wellington was on each plate. For dessert he'd asked the chef to do something special, more so because it was simple rather the elegant fare club was known for. It was her favorite though, and it always warmed his heart to see her face light up at a warm slice of peach cobbler. It always reminded her of home, she'd told him one night after they'd eaten late at a diner and she could smell one coming out of the oven. Her accent wasn't strong but every once in a while you could hear a slight southern twang when she spoke. She was a secretary for some CEO who had his birthday party at the club one year, that was how they met. He was there singing and instead of socializing she watched him all night, he picked her out of the crowd and butterflies appeared in his stomach for the first time. They had been together since, dates were hard to schedule sometimes because they worked opposite shifts but on her weekends she would come to the club and then they would find a 24 hour diner often just going for a cup of coffee and a slice of pie. Sometimes they would both have days off and they would spend the day doing traditional things, seeing a film, going for a walk in the park, sitting in an ice cream parlor, doing some mundane shopping. All around they just generally enjoyed being together. He knew all of her interests and her dreams, where she wanted to live and how many kids she wanted. And she knew so many things about him like all his favorites and his preferences, he liked whiskey more than gin and he took his coffee with just cream, he only smoked a specific type of cigarettes and if they weren't available he wouldn't smoke. He idolized the Rat Pack. Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin were his heroes and nothing that anyone said could prevent that. Or change it. They ate their dinner together talking amicably about how their day had been and what their plans for the upcoming weekend could be. He fidgeted nervously and she grew suspicious.

"Alright, what's going on?" She asked,as she looked up from staring down curiously at the warm piece of peach cobbler that had been placed in front of her. He gulped and used his right hand to scratch the back of his head. He poured more champagne into her glass, and his, as he gathered his courage.

"There's something I need to ask talk to you about, well, to ask you." He was growing increasingly more nervous. She reached across the table and took his free hand in hers.

"I'm all ears," she murmured with a soft smile gracing her face.

"How do you feel about the death of a bachelor?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, a puzzled look gracing her features. He stood up and came to her side, getting down on one knee and pulling out the ring box.

"What I mean is that I'm in love with you, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to wake up to you in my bed every morning and fall asleep with you in my arms every night. I want the sound of little feet running across the floor to be music we can dance to for years to come. I want to be the only guy in your world, I want to have not just a house but a home with you. I want to spend every day loving you and building a life with you. I want to provide for you and help you and support you. Please say you'll do me the honor of becoming my wife?" His speech had brought her to tears, they were running mascara trails down her cheeks as he knelt on the ground with an open ring box. She hadn't even looked at the ring, staring into his deep chocolate eyes as he professed his love to her.

"Of course I will!" She exclaimed, throwing herself into his arms. He chuckled as he scooped her up and spun her around as they both were laughing. The couple kissed and held to each other, one happy to have been asked and the other ecstatic to have been accepted. Once they both calmed down enough and stopped laughing he set her upon her feet and picked up the forgotten ring box.

"I think you'll be needing this love." He reminded her as he took the beautiful ring out of the box and slid it on to the correct finger. She smiled and reached for the glasses of champagne, handing one to him she raised it in a toast.

"Here's to the death of a bachelor."

"I'll drink to that," the glasses clinked and they drank, giving each other little secret smiles at the beginning of their happily ever after.