Love Unexpected (37 page)

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 an
d 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 fac
e.
 

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 loo
ked 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 tim
e," 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 s
tilettos 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 h
eard 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 co
mments 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 stoo
d up and his eyes went wide.
 

"Babe, you look beautiful, extra beautiful." his eye
s 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 w
as 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 h
oney 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 g
ently slapped his hand away.
 

"You keep doing that and we'll end up hot, sweaty, and smelling like post-coital flui
ds 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 yo
u."
 

"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 th
is 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 Pa
cific 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 o
f timeless and classic art.
 

I felt his hands behind my shoulders as I looked at the view, signaling that our table w
as ready.
 

Zander led the way inside the restaurant. He was acquainted with the maître d as the other guy said, "Ni
ce to have you back, Mr. Z."
 

"Thanks, Bruno" as he contin
ued 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 t
he phone and ended the call.
 

Bruno pulled one of the antique-looking c
hairs 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 w
ater, tea, or artisan water.
 

I aske
d for the sparkling water. 
 

Zander and I were engrossed in a conversation about different types of beverag
es 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 an
gular 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 m
eet 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 ser
ver 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 fath
er was a bit more reserved.
 

I learned that his m
other 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 se
eing 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 hi
s 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 wa
s 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 phon
es constantly during dinner.
 

Zander's mother offered me a taste of her dish, Zander said, "No, mom. S
edona's allergic to shrimp."
 

He asked me, "Babe, you h
ave 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 a
llergic 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 a
s ‘horny college students.’
 

Zander's parents didn't show any outward, facial reactions with Zan
der'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 becau
se of bureaucratic reasons.
 

Mr. Zobowski directed his eyes on me and asked, "How about you, Sedona? What do you think? Shoul
d 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. Someh
ow, it was a tad unnerving.
 

"Dad," Zander started, obviously trying to
deflect the attention on me.