by Anne Leigh
I excused myself to go to the restroom. I was about to return to my seat when I saw a redhead with heavy make-up, tight jeans, and an even tighter top openly flirting with Zander. I didn't go back to my seat right away. I wanted to see how Zander reacted to the situation. It wasn’t because I didn’t trust him. This was the first time I’ve seen a chick this aggressive so I wanted to see how he handled it.
He looked really uncomfortable. His back muscles were tense. From afar, I would bet that his jaw muscles were working overtime. He was probably trying to be polite; he shook his head a couple of times. The girl was persistent. When her boobs touched the side of his upper right arm, Zander flinched and started to stand up. I didn't want to lose our spot and miss out on the greasy appetizers, so I hurried back to our table and to the redhead, I said, "Excuse me, that's my seat."
The girl backed away, surprised. Before she could utter another flirty word, I grabbed Zander's head, put my fingers on his hair, and kissed him on his lips. Well, more like French kissed him on his lips.
I saw the shock, surprise, and amazement in Zander’s eyes. I usually didn’t initiate PDA. But here I was, my tongue sticking in and out of his mouth. In a bar, full of customers. I heard some whistles around us. The girl was nowhere to be found.
I was a bit embarrassed by my actions. Her aggressive flirtation irritated me. Plus, Zander needed my help. By the time I finished kissing him, his face was hot and his eyes were on fire. I knew he wanted to leave and continue what I started. If I wasn’t starving and I wasn’t craving for the artichoke dip, I would’ve agreed with him.
He asked, "What was that for?"
I didn't want him to think I was sort of spying on him, that I could've helped him a few minutes earlier. I wiped my lip gloss off of his lips and said, "Just claiming what's mine."
He held a stupid grin on his face after that and we had such a great time at the bar. After we left the bar, he came over at my place and proceeded to show him in bed just how much I cherished him being mine.
That night, he asked me to meet his parents.
*****
Three weeks ago, when Zander asked me to meet his parents, I have must have been in a post-sex euphoria to have said yes.
"Tanya, what was I thinking?" I asked her, as I was sitting in front her mirrors, hairpins sticking out of my hair.
Tanya rolled her eyes, took a bobby pin out her lips, and said, "You're so dramatic, Sedona. You're waayy over thinking this."
"They're his parents. I've never met a boyfriend's parents before."
"You met Kieran's." I fell straight into that one.
"But Kieran is not my boyfriend."
"He's still a boy and a friend," she reasoned.
"Come on, Tanya, you know what I mean."
"Overthinking, Sedona. You'll be fine. It's not like they're the royal family."
She was right. I shouldn't be nervous. They were only Zander's parents. His dad was only Mr. Severius Zobowski – multimillionaire and software genius. Zander's mom was only Dr. Haven Zobowksi, the well-known philanthropist, socialite, and, a super close friend of the First Lady. Yes, I had no reason to be nervous.
The more I thought about it, the more I itched to grab my phone and call Zander to tell him that I couldn't make it. I could tell him that Tanya had contracted a sudden case of malaria. She needed to be quarantined in a place far, far away from San Francisco and she needed me to go with her. Too bad for Tanya, she was going to be my escape goat.
I reached for my phone.
"Don't you dare, missy! Don't you dare cancel on Zander. That poor guy has been looking forward to this for a while now."
It was true. The other night, Zander, Tanya, Nalee, Kieran, and I were playing poker at our apartment; the topic, out-of-the blue, steered towards Zander's parents. I already knew this but the rest of them didn't. It wasn't something that was just brought up. Zander expressed his excitement when he talked about his parents meeting me. He said he couldn't wait to introduce his girlfriend to his parents.
Kieran stifled a laugh because he knew how awkward it was for me. I’ve been unloading on him about my insecurities on meeting Zander's parents before this even came up; but, he just brushed them off. Just as Tanya was telling me now, Kieran said that I overthink too much.
Zander's parents were based in San Francisco but they were hardly ever in town. They were always abroad or across the United States with their business and social responsibilities. Zander saw them three times a year the most. Even though they talk or video chat with him often, Zander had briefly mentioned to me that one day, if he had family, he would want to see his children 99% of the time. He said it wasn't always like this. He talked to me about his happy childhood memories with his parents. Things changed when he was in junior high and his dad's business boomed.
I knew he missed them. When he talked about his parents, I saw the longing in his eyes.
I didn't have the heart to disappoint him so I put my phone back on the side of Tanya's bed.
Tanya primped my hair into soft curls and applied light makeup on my face.
When I looked in the mirror, I saw an upgraded version of myself.
"Wow," I said softly.
"Yeah, wow, honey! You look like a sultry siren - a respectable, sultry siren," Tanya’s eyes met mine in the mirror. She was so proud of her creation. I knew she added the ‘respectable’ bit because of Zander's parents.
She applied plum eyeliner to the inside and outside corners of my eyes, smudged it below my brow bone, played it up with an eggplant eye shadow and finished it off with silver eye shimmer. My eyes looked dewy, fresh, and sultry.
On my cheeks, she lightly brushed rose dust blush to highlight my cheekbones.
Lipstick was not my friend. I felt that it made my lips way fuller than they were. Tanya talked me into putting it on but I stood my ground and my clear shimmer gloss won.
"Honey, I only highlighted what's been there all this time," she said, still smiling.
I went back to my room to finish dressing up. I put on a sleeveless polyester/spandex white, color blocked with black lining on the sides, sheath dress that hit slightly above my knee.
2 1/2 inch strapless stilettos capped off my look.
Tanya opened the door when she heard the doorbell.
I was putting on my diamond, round cut stud earrings, inherited from my mom when I heard Zander asking Tanya.
"She almost ready?"
"Oh loverboy! Why don't you just sit still and wait. She'll be out soon enough."
I heard Zander laugh. Tanya was plain hilarious at times. She got overly boisterous and spouted out a load of inappropriate comments when she was excited.
My wall clock showed 7:45. Our reservations were at 8:30 PM. With traffic being unpredictable, Zander wanted to have enough time to drive 15 miles to the restaurant.
I stepped out of the room. I saw him sitting on the sofa and Tanya was sitting across from him.
When he saw me, he stood up and his eyes went wide.
"Babe, you look beautiful, extra beautiful." his eyes sparkling with admiration.
I took in his navy suit, light blue dress shirt, slightly wet hair and said, "You look really good, too"
Good enough to eat and do naughty things to.
I pushed those thoughts out of my head. Tanya was ushering us out the door.
"Gosh, you could make babies with your eyes just by looking at each other. Leave now! Go, before I start getting attacked by ants with all the honey dripping in this room."
Zander and I left laughing.
On the drive to the restaurant, Zander put his hand on my left knee and started caressing me.
I gently slapped his hand away.
"You keep doing that and we'll end up hot, sweaty, and smelling like post-coital fluids when I meet your parents"
He barked with laughter.
In serious tones, he said, "You'll be fine, babe. My parents are normal people. They don't bite. They'll like you."
/> "Ok, babe," was all I could say.
We arrived 10 minutes early so after giving the keys to the valet, Zander led me to the cocktail lounge of the Plaza Restaurant and Hotel. It was my first time at this place. Zander mentioned that his mom loved this place.
I could see why. The place overlooked the San Francisco Bay. To my left, the view of the glittering lights of the rest of Downtown San Francisco and the stretch of the Pacific Ocean view was divine.
The interior of the place reflected elegance and luxury. The red and gold curtains that that surrounded the walls, the sky high chandeliers, and antique chairs is reminiscent of timeless and classic art.
I felt his hands behind my shoulders as I looked at the view, signaling that our table was ready.
Zander led the way inside the restaurant. He was acquainted with the maître d as the other guy said, "Nice to have you back, Mr. Z."
"Thanks, Bruno" as he continued to lead me to our table.
His phone rang as we went nearer our table.
"Yes, I know, dad. You're running late," as he grinned over the phone and ended the call.
Bruno pulled one of the antique-looking chairs for me and I sat down.
"My dad got caught up in a business meeting so they're running late. He said they'd be here in about 10 minutes," Zander apologized.
"It's ok, babe." I tapped my hand on his left knee.
The server offered us champagne, sparkling water, tea, or artisan water.
I asked for the sparkling water.
Zander and I were engrossed in a conversation about different types of beverages when his parents arrived.
His father, Mr. Severious Zobowski, was a tall, imposing man. He wore a black suit with a dark grey shirt. He was almost as tall as Zander. I could tell where Zander got his athletic frame since his dad had broad shoulders and thick bone structure. His face was angular and he had brown eyes.
Dr. Haven Zobowski, Zander's mom, was about 5'4", petite woman, with fine bone structure and luminescent face. Zander has his mother's eyes. Under the restaurant's exceptional lighting, her blue-green eyes were a shade lighter than Zander's. She wore a fuchsia suit with a pearl set earrings and necklace. She was even more beautiful than the images I've seen of her in the news.
Zander and I stood up and he hugged his mom and shook his dad's hands. Then, he introduced me to them, "Mom, dad, meet Sedona McKenzie."
His mother's face lit up she hugged me while saying, "Nice to meet you, Sedona. I’m Haven.”
I was about to shake his father's hand, when he pulled me into a hug, "You can call me, Sev."
We all sat down and our server came to take our orders.
Zander's parents chatted about what they've been doing for the past few months. They were truly engaging people. His mother had that innate charisma that makes you feel at ease in her presence. His father was a bit more reserved.
I learned that his mother was not a medical doctor; rather, she held a PhD in Psychology. She said that the press liked to put the Dr. in front of her name to save space, which was why people got the wrong impression that she is a medical doctor. She talked about their latest trip to South Africa and how the need for clean water has exponentially increased since the last time they visited a year and a half ago.
They asked about Zander's games and if he was still planning to get into the NFA. His parents weren’t keen on him playing at the professional level. They would rather have him pursue his architecture degree rather than chase a career in the NFA. His father commented, "Son, those football players often have tons of injuries which can shorten their careers."
Zander replied, "I know, dad. That's why I want to do this while I'm still young."
"You don't even have to do this." Father and son held each other’s gaze and I sensed that this was a matter of contention between them. His father opened his mouth but stopped after seeing his wife’s stony face.
His mother intervened, "But, we know you love football, son. As much as we want you to do something else, you have to follow your passion."
His mother turned the attention on me, "So what field are you studying, Sedona?"
I told her I was finishing up Nursing. She said, "Excellent choice, we need more nurses around."
Zander told them that I was also finishing up a degree in Chemistry. To which his parents smiled and his mother said, “Smart girl.”
She was the first person I met who didn't ask me why I wanted to be a doctor or something else. She just upped her likeness factor in my scale.
Our food came and the 4 servers who had our orders were so coordinated in their movements that it was so much fun to watch them.
Zander's father had a rack of lamb, Dr. Haven had jumbo shrimp and oysters, Zander had filet mignon, and I had organic half-chicken with vegetables.
The mood around the table was lively and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. Not once did Zander's parents check their cellphones. Busy people, such as they were, I thought they'd be on their phones constantly during dinner.
Zander's mother offered me a taste of her dish, Zander said, "No, mom. Sedona's allergic to shrimp."
He asked me, "Babe, you have your Benadryl with you?"
I was facing his mom and I saw her give a quick glance to her husband at Zander's term of endearment. I dabbed the sides of my mouth with a napkin and nodded at Zander.
Zander didn't seem to notice anything. He continued eating his food.
His mother asked, "Were you always allergic to shrimp, Sedona?"
I nodded and proceeded to tell them my allergy story. When I was 3, my dad cooked a shrimp dish and I started getting a severe reaction (hives) all over my body. It was a trip to the ER that cemented the fact that I was allergic to shrimp. My parents tried to have me go to a desensitization clinic but they couldn't stand the fact that I had to be injected multiple times. My parents figured out that Benadryl worked for me so it became both a habit and a must for me to bring it anywhere I go.
Countless times during dinner, Zander held my hand and would pull me closer to him. I felt a bit awkward since it was my first time meeting his parents and I didn't want us to be labeled as ‘horny college students.’
Zander's parents didn't show any outward, facial reactions with Zander's displays of affection.
We had desserts and coffee while discussing the healthcare insurance coverage of the United States, Europe, and Canada. Zander's father was apparently thinking of investing in a healthcare company. The conversation was getting slightly heated because Zander's mom was opposed to the idea because of bureaucratic reasons.
Mr. Zobowski directed his eyes on me and asked, "How about you, Sedona? What do you think? Should I or should I not invest?"
This man, this multimillion dollar man - highly respected in the business, technology, and finance sectors - was asking for my opinion and my thoughts. Somehow, it was a tad unnerving.
"Dad," Zander started, obviously trying to deflect the attention on me.
"It's ok," I assured him.
Zander's mother was now looking at me, expectantly, curiously.
"This is my disclaimer - I am not an investor and I am not impartial to this topic," I began.
His parents laughed.
Zander held my hand.
"I believe that there should be affordable health care coverage available to every person in the United States,” I stated.
His father asked, “Why? We don’t have it now. What difference does it make if we do?” He was looking at me expectantly, trying to gauge my stance.
I took a small breath and said, “When I walk through the emergency rooms, the waiting rooms are filled with people - young and old, with no health insurance. When I go to clinical rotations, I see the struggles of working parents who cannot afford healthcare coverage and they bring their children to the hospitals when they're already very sick. Our nation is supposedly a superpower, but how come our infant mortality rate is almost the same as that of 3rd world countries? How is it t
hat we tend to overlook the health of our people? Without healthy people, there will be no workers, there will be no employers. Basically, we are nothing without our health." Whew. That was a mouthful. I was passionate about this and hopefully, my passion didn’t come out as arrogance.
His mother had a strange look in her eyes; I couldn't tell if it was good or bad. Mr. Zobowski spoke first, "Well said, Sedona. I believe I just found the CEO for my healthcare company."