Pleasurable Expectations

t w e n t y - e i g h t

Jeremiah's wheels slowed to a stop as we rolled up in front of the Metropolitan Grill for dinner. I gathered my belongings in my hand. There was a click as I unbuckled my seatbelt, the sound of my door opening following. Jeremiah's hand lingered in front of me as he busied himself with paying the valet and handing over his key.

I took this moment of calm to steel myself for dinner ahead. I know next to nothing about Jeremiah's parents, so I have no idea how they're going to react to me or how I should react to them. Do they prefer Mr. and Mrs. Diamond? Sir and Ma'am?

I snapped out of my head as Jeremiah's hand bumped against mine, his way of gaining my attention. I smiled smally as I took his hand and placed one foot on the curb. I situated my things in my arms as Jeremiah shut the door and rounded the car. I shifted back and forth in my heels as I waited for Jeremiah to finish whatever it was he was doing with the valet.

"You okay?" Jeremiah's hand settled at the small of my back as he ushered us forth. "You're fidgety." His warm breath tickled my ear as he leaned in close.

"What should I call your parents?" I looked up at him as I rolled my eyes and continued, "Not their first names, obviously."

"Nah, that would immediately end in disaster." The door was pulled open for us, Jeremiah mumbling a small thanks before continuing. "Mr. and Miss Diamond should be fine."

My lips pulled downwards as I questioned, "Miss?"

"Oh yeah, my mom loves to feel younger than she is," he explained with the roll of his eyes. "Being called Miss makes her feel unmarried or, in her mind, 'younger.'" A scoff followed another roll of his eyes.

"Noted." I nodded with the purse of my lips. "Any other hot tips I should know about the Diamonds?" I nudged him with my elbow jokingly, but I don't think he picked up on that.

"If my mom references something you don't know anything about, smile, laugh, and pretend that you do."

We were brought to a booth tucked away in the back of the restaurant. An older couple—who I could only assume was Jeremiah's parents—were seated at the table when we arrived. They were carrying on a whispered conversation while sipping on some sort of amber liquid.

I wonder what they could be whispering about all the way in the back of the restaurant. It's not like anybody's around to hear them.

"Jeremiah," his father greeted flatly once he was aware of our presence. "You decided to show up." He took a nonchalant sip of his drink.

"I thought I'd told you seven o'clock, honey," his mom added. "Oh well. What's done is done now." She shrugged, her demeanor matching her husband's.

As bad as this sounds, I've already decided I do not like Jeremiah's parents. It's yet to be a full minute, and I've been disregarded like I'm not even here! Not only that but our punctuality is being scrutinized for being a measly ten minutes late.

"Traffic was a little backed up," I began to explain. "We were a couple min—"

"This is your friend Kiara?" Miss Diamond didn't even look at me as she cut me off. Instead, her tone sounded disinterested as she swirled her liquor in her glass.

My tongue rolled over my teeth as I bit back a retort. No matter how unpleasant, these are my boyfriend's parents, and snapping off on them was not in my best interests. I plastered an irritated smile on my face before I responded, "I'm actually—"

To my surprise, Jeremiah was the one to cut me off. "Yes, Mom, this is Kiara." He heaved a sigh. "And you're right, Dad. We should've been on time; that's our bad." Jeremiah gestured for us to sit...finally.