My Stolen Valentine

“I feel so bad,” Tara was whispering to our co-worker Rachelle.

“Poor guy. Is he still sitting there waiting for her to show up?” Rachelle murmured back, peeking over the drink station to the dining area of the restaurant.

“He’s been there for like over an hour. I don’t have the heart to tell him to leave,” Tara answered, shaking her head.

“I can’t do it. The poor guy had this entire night planned out for like three months. I can’t imagine the money he put out for that ring alone," Rachelle agreed.

“Oh my god! Did you see it? Before they placed it into the dessert?” Tara gushed, cheeks pinking up with a slight blush.

I wasn’t working tonight, and had only stopped in to grab my wallet which I had left in my locker after my shift last night. Seeing the two hardest working servers, after myself, standing around gossiping irked me. Especially considering the night. Valentine’s day was the busiest night of the year for us. Reservations started almost a year out for a table in this restaurant for this single night of the year.

“Who are you two gossiping about?” I demanded. Tara and Rachelle jumped like I had goosed them, so absorbed in their drama they hadn’t seen me walking up.

“Addy! You scared the shit out of me!” Tara barked, drawing attention from the nearby tables.

“Again. What are you two gossiping about? The place is slammed and you’re both here chatting like you don’t have shit to do,” I scolded them quietly.

The three of us had been working together at Saint Valentine’s for nearly a year, although I had seniority because I had been with Saint Valentine’s since I was fifteen. My parents were friends with the owners and helped me get my first job here. I never left.

I started out bussing tables and cleaning the dining room, moved on to washing dishes and serving. Now, ten years on, I was the assistant manager, hostess, and sometimes… the bartender. I knew everything about this restaurant because it had been my lifeline through college, helping me to pay my own way so that I didn’t have to burden my parents.

Seeing the two women staring back at me nervously, I waited.

“Okay,” Rachelle started. “Remember the reservation for table seven?”

I nodded. I remembered every Valentine’s night reservation. Preferences, food selections, special requests. “Table seven was the proposal. Pink diamond ring placed into the specially crafted edible ring box… What about it?”

“She didn’t show!” Tara whispered.

I couldn’t help but glance into the dining room at the guest sitting there. He wasn’t drop dead gorgeous, but he was by no means ugly. The man looked to be in his late thirties, early forties. He was well built, without the normal pot belly we saw in here. He took care of himself. I had personally handled his reservation this year.

“No,” I whispered softly. Mr. Collins was proposing to the woman he had been with for ten years. Though saying they had been together for ten years was a stretch. From what I remembered, she was a journalist and he worked with a lot of nonprofits, often traveling to various refugee crises around the world. They rarely spent more than two months together in a given year, before one was called away for business. “I can’t stand this. He went through so much to do this. Girls, help me!” I begged, pulling them to the bathroom.

“Tara, can you fix my makeup really quick? Nothing crazy, just make me look nice! Rachelle, this is what you have to work with,” I stated, waving my hands over my outfit.

“What are you going to do?”

“What’s going on?”

The two women stared at me like I had grown a second head.

“Just make me look good!” I urged them. The two quickly got to work fixing up my hair into a modest updo. When they were done, I looked like I had rushed to get here but made an effort. I never wore makeup at work, so I looked nothing like my normal self staring back in the mirror.

“Don’t tell the Valentines I did this. Now get back to work!” I barked, stepping out of the bathroom.

I walked confidently to table seven, just as the guest seated there stood up. “Henry! I am so sorry I’m late! My flight was delayed and my phone died! I am so sorry! Please forgive me. I’ve missed you so much!” I gushed, throwing myself into the man’s arms.

To say that Henry Collins was startled was an understatement. His body tensed like he was about to shove me away but I whispered quietly in his ear something only I would know.

“It’s me, Adelaine. I’m here to be your plus one for the night, if you’ll have me. I don’t know what held Laura up, but you can ask her about it tomorrow. For tonight, I'll be your Valentine.”

Henry’s body relaxed, returning my hug. “I haven’t been here that long,” he lied as he released me from the hug. “Please, have a seat. I ordered your favorites.”

Taking my seat, I couldn’t help but marvel at the beauty of the restaurant. Each year we arranged the dining room to provide small intimate spaces for each table. There were fewer tables, so couples felt like they had more privacy. The lighting was a little lower than usual, creating a romantic atmosphere. In all of my years working here, I had never seen the restaurant from this vantage point. It was magical.

“You look radiant, Addy,” Henry murmured, staring affectionately at me, a soft smile creeping at the corner of his mouth. “I remember you said you always wanted to dine here one Valentine’s. Did you sabotage my proposal so you could steal me as your date?

I was shocked. That was something I had said to Henry during one of our many conversations planning his big proposal. While I normally praised Saint Valentine’s as the go-to romantic spot in the city, I confessed to Henry that I was jealous of his girlfriend.

He had gone all out in planning this proposal, and very little convincing had come from me. Sure, I admitted it had always been one of my fantasies to come to this restaurant on Valentine’s day, but I never found anyone worthy of this place on such a special night. When Henry said he wanted to take Laura's breath away with a huge romantic gesture, I helped him plan the perfect night.

His reminder caused my face to flush in mild embarrassment. I was stealing someone else's Valentine. Before I could say another word, Henry’s phone pinged. Checking the message, he chuckled after reading it. “Looks like Laura had more important things to do tonight after all,” he whispered. On his phone was a picture of a woman I assumed was Laura, kissing someone that was not him. The picture was captioned with the headline, 'Fairytale in the making: Leading journalist accepts sweet proposal.'

Well, that was just absolutely shitty. It was one thing to drift apart, but it was another to string someone along. For years. My opinion of Miss Laura dropped to sub zero. From everything I knew and learned about the man across from me, he was a hidden gem and she was an idiot for letting him go.

Maybe he wasn't the red carpet beau Laura needed for her career, but it didn't make him any less than worthy. No. Tonight would not be wasted.

I held up my champagne glass and forced a smile. “Here’s to many blessings for those fortunate to find their one.”

Henry smiled appreciatively and returned my toast, “To finding the one.”