He’s been eyeing you across the bar— well, not eyeing per-se, just sneaking glances to you as he wades tables. Much to his dismay and Zeff’s benefit. He’s kept an eye out for any partner who might turn up and take a seat next to you, but as the restaurant winded down and customers started to pay their bills, that seemed less and less likely to happen. You’re a lonely, good-looking figure and he’d think himself a fool not to at least try his luck.

“Excuse me, are you ready to order?”