How Sweet It Is (8 page)

She gently woke her mother enough to lead her
to the bed. Once she had been tucked in, Delphine planted a kiss on
her cheek. Flicking off the small TV, she gazed at them for a
moment and sent up a whispered prayer for their well-being.

Six

Delphine returned home from work the
following Wednesday to the sound of the phone ringing. It was Mr.
Larsen. When she heard his decision, she sank down onto a chair at
the dinette set in the kitchen and gripped the phone hard.

“I’ll send Brad over with the paperwork
today,” he said. “Be sure to have it all looked over by an attorney
and let me know if you have any questions. I can get you a check
the day you sign the papers.”

Her mouth went dry. Her heart forgot to beat.
“Th…thank you, Mr. Larsen. Thank you!”

“It’s a pleasure doing business with you,
Miss D’Arleux.”

Delphine hung up the phone
with nerveless fingers.
I have the
loan!

Looking around the room in a daze, she
realized she wanted to tell someone, wanted to celebrate. Caution
made her refrain from telling her parents just yet. In case there
was a problem with the paperwork, she’d wait to tell them only when
the money was lodged safely in the bank—in an account only she had
access to.

Closing her eyes, she drank in the moment,
her heart reaching out to God in thanks. What a tremendous
opportunity! Her mind began a mad whirl as all the ramifications
set in. She needed to lease a shop, put together a materials list,
come up with a business name—

And Brad. The realization that this would
keep him at least somewhat involved in her life filled her with a
suffocating sense of anticipation—though she knew she would only be
setting herself up for a fall if she followed such thoughts with
action.

And who knew what his real feelings were on
the subject. Maybe after the first enjoyment of helping someone
out, he’d become bored as the association dragged on. Assuming too
much would only get her hurt.

Remember that,
Delphine
.

She took a deep breath, and rushed to her
room to find something pretty to wear.

****

Brad knocked on Delphine’s door, feeling a
bit breathless, which had nothing to do with his unseemly rush to
her apartment. He could only be thankful this loan business would
keep Delphine firmly in his sphere, right where he wanted her to
be—for reasons he hadn’t yet admitted to himself.

While he had no doubt he was attracted to
her, Brad still felt unsure of where he stood with her. Granted,
he’d deserved to be slapped when he’d kissed her in Belgium, but it
also had the effect of putting a dent in his self-confidence. He
decided to take things slowly with her, to gain her trust by
overtures of friendship.

Which, of course, is what I
should’ve done in the first place
.

When Delphine opened the door wearing an
appealing floral dress, his plan to be platonic suffered a severe
blow.

She smiled. “Hi.”

“Hi.” When no other coherent thoughts were
forthcoming, he swallowed and held up a key.

“What’s that for?” she asked, her dark eyes
alight with curiosity.

“I have a friend who’s in real estate. I
mentioned you might be looking for a shop to lease. He’s found one
you might like and gave me the key.”

“And where is this agent?” she asked,
peering around his shoulder.

He decided to be brutally honest. “I told him
I was trying to impress a girl and to just give me the key. He
knows where I live.”

Brad liked the way Delphine’s expressive face
changed according to her emotions. He could see her first reaction
was one of embarrassment. It morphed to suspicion when she raised
her eyebrow and gave him a gimlet look.

I’m gonna have to try
harder
.

“Here’s the paperwork from my dad,” he said.
“Right now do you want to go check out the shop?”

Delphine accepted the envelope and stared at
it for a moment. She raised her gaze. “Could we drop this off on
the way? There’s someone I’d like to have look it over.”

“Sure. Are you ready?”

“Yes. My parents are visiting friends down
the street at the moment, or they’d want to greet you before we
left.” She locked the door behind her.

Brad enjoyed seeing the high
flush on Delphine’s face as they climbed into the Jetta. He was
used to seeing her more serious than excited. Maybe this candy shop
business would work in his favor in more ways than one.
And maybe she’ll learn to like me a whole lot more
than she does now
.

She directed him to an office in an
established area full of older Craftsman homes, explaining that she
knew a lawyer from the bakery. When they arrived, she jumped out of
the car to drop off the paperwork.

Afterwards, they headed toward Glendale’s
downtown area. “Thanks for doing all this running around for me,”
she said. “Are you sure I’m not interfering with any plans?”

Brad shook his head. “I’m on summer break,
remember? In a month or so, I’ll start sending out resumés for some
stuffy office job. My dad has a lot of contacts, so it shouldn’t be
too difficult to find work.”

He sensed Delphine’s steady gaze upon
him.

“That…must be nice, having
him get you a job like that. I mean, not having to do it the hard
way like everyone else.” She frowned. “
Zut!
That came out wrong.”

Brad smiled as he negotiated through traffic.
“It’s not all nepotism you know. I have a degree, I’ll be an asset
to any company I work for. All my dad can do really is put a word
in an ear or two. There are no guarantees.” He sent her a sidelong
glance. “You’ll be glad to know he doesn’t believe in giving even
his own kids a free ride.”

Delphine bridled. “I didn’t say that.”

He shrugged. “Of course, I’ll take any help I
can get. Why reinvent the wheel? But he’s always made us
accountable to him. You can ask my mom. He wouldn’t pay for our
college unless we maintained at least a three-point-oh grade
average.”

He saw Delphine’s eyes widen.

Aha!
That impressed her.

He smiled. For some reason, with Delphine,
charm wasn’t quite enough. He figured his studious and responsible
side—which only really surfaced under duress, would appeal more to
her.

It had.

When he located the shop, Brad parked his
Jetta along a city curb where another car had just vacated, and
they got out. The area was filled with older shop spaces, and
depending on the way one viewed it, the buildings were either in
desperate need of renovation, or charming in an old-fashioned way.
The street had potential, Brad mused, if the wood trim was painted,
the brickwork repointed, and the sidewalk filled with some
welcoming benches and large flowerpots. Other businesses along the
block included a copy center, a pet grooming shop, and bakery.

All that’s needed is a candy
store
.

Checking the scrawled directions, Brad led
her to a doorway next to a large picture window, sandwiched in
between a florist on one side and a shoe store on the other.
Business signs swung from metal brackets above each doorway. The
one above the empty shop indicated it had once been a deli.

Taking a deep breath, Brad unlocked the door
and led her inside. He felt his smile fade as he watched her
expression alter into something like regret. Looking around, he
experienced his own surge of disappointment.

Fluorescent lights hung crookedly from a
ceiling of stained tiles. A dingy linoleum floor in an ugly green
block pattern stretched all the way to the back of the room. The
windows were grubby and a layer of dust covered every horizontal
space.

Oh, great. My so-called
agent friend is peddling a dump
.

Brad watched Delphine, wondering what she was
thinking. He hoped he wouldn’t lose any ground with her by bringing
her to a crummy shop. He had a feeling that once lost, her trust
would be next to impossible to regain.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he wondered
if there were other properties available for lease.

****

Delphine took a step forward, struggling to
keep a polite expression on her face. She took a deep
breath—sneezed—and walked further into the room.

Be
opened-minded
.

There couldn’t be that many spaces available
for lease. This location was good, especially situated next to a
florist shop. Half closing her eyes, she tried to imagine glass
display shelves at the window and at the center of the room.

Back in the kitchen area, she saw large
stainless steel sinks and lots of storage space. She mentally
placed a large wooden worktable in the middle of the area with a
rack overhead for pots and pans.

It’s not downtown Belgium,
but I think there are some real possibilities
here
.

Blowing out a breath, she glanced over at
Brad and smiled.

He pulled a folded piece of paper from his
pants pocket and handed it to her. “Since this part of downtown is
undergoing a city-funded revitalization, the city has special
incentives you might be interested in.”

Delphine opened the paper and studied the
figures, calculating how to afford it with the other start-up
costs.

Lord, I think Your hand has
been with me in this so far. If this space is where you want me to
be, please confirm it by the lawyer giving the paperwork his stamp
of approval
.

****

Mr. Hartung waved through the window when
Delphine walked onto his porch. She tried to discern his expression
as he opened the door and ushered her into his home.

This is it, God. Help me
accept whatever is the outcome
.

“Well?” she asked after they exchanged
greetings, her hands clenched in anxiety.

Mr. Hartung’s face relaxed into a smile.
“Come in and have a seat.”

As she sat down in the chair facing his desk
in his office, he straightened some paperwork and placed it in a
file.

“Everything here looks good, Miss D’Arleux.
The loan is standard and adheres to all laws, and after a few calls
to some associates, I can tell you that Donald Larsen is a
respected businessman with nothing untoward on his record.”

The stress seeped out of Delphine, making her
return his smile. “That’s a relief.”

“And,” he continued, placing a large, flat
box on his desktop and removing the lid to show her the depleted
contents, “with a product like this, young lady, you’ll have no
trouble succeeding in your business venture.”

A feminine voice came from the other room.
Mr. Hartung shot a glance toward the door. He grabbed the box and
shoved it in a desk drawer. “Shhh! Don’t say anything about the
chocolate. If my wife catches me with candy, I’m toast. Cholesterol
problem, you know.”

A pretty lady with gray hair piled in a bun
popped her head in the door. “Can I get you two some coffee?”

Mindful of Brad waiting for her in the car,
Delphine shook her head and cast an amused glance toward the
lawyer, who sat trying to look innocent while a red flush stained
his cheeks.

At least he didn’t have telltale chocolate
smudges on his mouth, like Brad often did.

“Thank you, Mrs. Hartung, but I can’t stay.”
She rose and accepted the folder he slid across the desk. As she
picked it up, the front flap opened and she caught sight of a brown
fingerprint on one of the papers.

Stifling a smile, she shook his hand, happy
to keep the lawyer’s chocolaty little secret.

****

Delphine paused—her pen poised over a small
stack of papers, and looked up at Brad, who hovered nearby. He gave
her an encouraging grin.

He stood next to his father, where they’d
assembled in the Larsen living room several days later. She
scrawled her name on all the papers and released a pent-up
breath.

Now comes the hard
part—repayment of the loan
.

After shaking hands with Mr. Larsen and
tucking the check he gave her into her purse, she turned to his
son. His eyes were lit with a merry glow. She inwardly shook her
head. Only Brad could somehow view incurring debt as exciting.

“I think this calls for a celebration,” he
said.

“Oh?”

“Your mom can make one of her fabulous
French dinners for starters.”

Delphine had to smile at the
note of hope in his words, and at his parents’ amused expressions.
“Of course.
Maman
would love to have you over again.”

And I wouldn’t mind it
either
. She felt her face heat at the
thought but it wouldn’t do to become spoony over her creditor’s
son.

An hour later they sat at the tiny dinette
table in her apartment. While her mother flitted about with fevered
delight in preparations for the meal, Delphine mused that Brad was
good for her parents. They seemed to sense a similar spirit of
frivolity in him and went all out to make him stay as long as
possible.

The notion sent a little tremor through her.
Her parents, while charming, often made poor decision that were
painful in the end. Was Brad the same way? Did he think of his own
pleasures, forgetting about collateral damage?

It’s one reason among many not to lose your
head over Brad Larsen.

Brad tapped on her wrist
with a pencil. “Pay attention,” he chided, directing her back to
the task of coming up with a business name. “We have several, but
so far
Chez Chocolates
sounds the best, even with my pronunciation.”