How Sweet It Is

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How Sweet It Is Page 5

by Bonnie Blythe


  Besides, not only did her lifestyle preclude boyfriends, but even female friends were few and far between. She never stayed long enough in one town to maintain deep friendships. She often found herself more comfortable with the old-fashioned kindness of people like Mr. Hartung.

  “Actually, I went to Europe,” she said, pleased to have something relatively exciting to report.

  “Europe! In a week?” He laughed. “How did you manage to see everything in a week?”

  “I didn’t go to sightsee. I went to take some classes.” She lowered her voice. “Courses in candy making by European chocolatiers.”

  “That’s a long way to go just for a hobby.” He gave her a wink. “You must have some special plans.”

  Delphine remembered Mr. Hartung had once mentioned he was a retired business attorney. She glanced over her shoulder. Her boss was out of sight and the lobby was otherwise empty.

  “Actually, I have hopes of one day opening a chocolaterie myself. I wonder…if you would be willing to look at any papers pertaining to such an endeavor.”

  He lifted his bushy eyebrows. “Sounds like more of a concrete plan than a hope. But I’d be glad to look at anything you need.” He grinned. “And I insist any payment be in chocolate.”

  Delphine blushed. “I don’t expect any favors, Mr. Hartung—”

  “Who said anything about favors?” he said gruffly, pulling a business card from his wallet and sliding it across the counter to her. “If you want to do business, a big box of your chocolates is my fee.”

  With another wink, he took his plate and cup and headed to one of the tables by the window. As she watched him go, Delphine tried not to get her hopes up too high. First a possible source of funding and now legal counsel. Is this you God?

  But it had been a long time since she could discern His answer.

  Five

  Delphine plucked the lace lapel of her white blouse, worn under a thin pink cardigan. A plain black skirt and black heels completed the outfit. She wished she had something more fashionable to wear, but at least she looked businesslike.

  And going to the Larsen home was a business trip.

  A part of her wondered at the sanity of pitching a proposal to Brad’s father. Who was Delphine D’Arleux from Adam to ask a veritable stranger to take a financial risk on her, especially one she was already in debt to?

  Well, for whatever it was worth, she was ready. She picked up the box containing a sampling of her chocolates along with a manila envelope, which contained her plans for the chocolaterie.

  My hopes and dreams.

  Delphine sent up a silent prayer for guidance.

  A moment later, the buzzer on the door rang. Knowing her parents were resting, she quickly opened the door and stepped out into the hall, closing the door behind her with a snap.

  Brad frowned. “You didn’t even ask who was at the door. I could’ve been a burglar or killer or something! In this neighborhood you have to be careful…” His voice trailed away before her quelling glare.

  “I’m sorry my neighborhood offends you, Mr. Larsen, but it’s what we can afford.”

  Despite the slight flush under his tan, Brad rallied quickly. “Oh, it’s Mr. Larsen now, is it? Delphine, I’m hurt.”

  She bit her lip, realizing it wouldn’t do any good to upset a business prospect. She sent him her most fulsome smile. “Thank you for picking me up, Brad.”

  He grinned and led the way down the stairs and out of the building. Delphine let out a silent sigh, glad his back was to her. Somehow his presence always upset her equilibrium. Besides, he was too cute for his own good. Brad in jeans and sweatshirt was one thing. Him in a black Polo shirt and chinos, quite another.

  When she’d settled into the passenger seat of his car, she once again thanked him for picking her up. “It would’ve been a long journey from Glendale to Redondo Beach by bus.”

  He flashed her a smile. “No problem. So, are you all ready?”

  She nodded. “I think so.” A spasm of fear twisted her stomach. What if I’m not ready? What if I’m just on a fool’s errand, wasting my only day off?

  Brad lightly bumped her shoulder with his. “Relax. My dad doesn’t bite.”

  Delphine blew out a breath and smiled. It was hard to be too worried when she was with Brad. He exuded a sunny disposition and languid confidence.

  What would it be like not to obsess over every little thing all the time? I’ll probably never know.

  She felt herself relaxing by increments during the long drive, helped by his humorous chatter—until they arrived in his neighborhood. Her eyes widened. Boy, am I out of my element! Sprawling Mediterranean homes with red-tiled roofs and established gardens looked like something out Architectural Digest. Brad pulled into the driveway of one of the homes and parked.

  Delphine tried to conceal her growing distress as he led her past agave plants and terracotta pots spilling over with red bougainvillea. They entered a saltillo-tiled entryway. Brad tossed his car keys onto a nearby table in the hall.

  “Have you lived here long?” she asked, trying to make conversation.

  “All my life, except of course, when I was in Hawaii.”

  “Even while you went to college?”

  “No, I rented a place with a couple other guys off campus, but still here in town. When they moved on, my mom begged me to come home for the summer until I find a new place.”

  Delphine sent him a tense smile, wondering what it would’ve been like to have a solid, stable life. Her childhood had been a rootless one, moving from one rental to the next, sometimes in the middle of the night to avoid paying rent. She shook the morose thought away and looked around her with interest.

  From the hall, the house opened up on the left to a living room. The décor consisted of pale earth tones and heavy leather furniture complemented by Spanish art, pottery, and glossy potted palm plants. Skylights flooded the room with natural light.

  On her right, she saw a dining room with a carved wooden table and chairs, which opened into a bright, cheery kitchen. Beyond where she stood, toward the back of the house, she could see a small, kidney-shaped swimming pool through the French patio doors. The open lightness appealed to her, especially after the shabby gloom of her apartment.

  “Where are your parents?” she asked.

  “They won’t be back until about five.”

  Delphine gave him a blank stare. “I thought you said we would be eating together. I assumed it would be a late lunch.”

  Was it her imagination or did Brad’s face redden?

  “Did I say lunch?” He shook his head. “I invited you for a meal, meaning dinner.”

  “But I’m here much too early! It’s only two o’clock!”

  “Not too early,” he said smoothly, easing the envelope from her hands. “I thought we could use the time to look over your proposal.” He waved her toward the large leather couch in the living room.

  Delphine glanced at the bright room, suddenly wishing for some shadows to hide in. California sunshine slanting in from skylights now made her feel like she was on stage.

  Squaring her shoulders, she walked across the hardwood floor covered with a richly woven wool rug and sat on the edge of the couch.

  Brad followed her and plunked down next to her. He motioned to the box she set next to her purse.

  “What’s that?”

  “Chocolates for your dad to sample.”

  Brad raised a brow. “I could act as his representative.”

  She smiled at his hopeful expression. “Um, I’ll have to let your father make that decision.”

  Brad laughed. “Very diplomatic, Delphine. I can already tell you’ll be a shrewd businesswoman.”

  He opened the clasp on the envelope and spread her papers on the Moroccan style coffee table. Then he leaned back and put his arms along the back of the couch.

  “Show me what you’ve got.”

  Delphine hadn’t planned on making her pitch to Brad. But it would be good practice
for when she spoke to his father. She picked up the papers, took a deep breath, and began her presentation.

  Brad listened to Delphine’s proposal with half an ear while the rest of him admired the lovely picture she made. Her silky hair had been smoothed up into a sleek chignon. He noticed her black eyes had a hint of brown translucence when the light hit them just right. Her delicate features coupled with such large dark eyes gave her a vulnerable air.

  His gaze dropped to her lips. They looked so soft. Just the way he remembered they’d been in Brussels. His hand went up to his cheek where she’d slapped him. Despite her appearance of vulnerability, Brad knew good and well she was a spitfire—definitely not someone to be trifled with.

  He realized Delphine had stopped speaking. She sat with her hands folded in her lap, giving him a questioning look. “Well?”

  Brad cleared his throat, chagrined to be caught staring. Scooting forward to the edge of the couch, he sifted through her paperwork, scanning it as he went. “I’m impressed.”

  He was. She’d obviously gone to a lot of effort, and her proposal had been competently assembled.

  She gave him a relieved smile. “I took a couple of business classes at a community college several years ago which helped, I think. And I used the library computer to put it all together.”

  Brad smiled back. “It shows. I do have a couple of suggestions however.” When he saw her face fall, he added, “Things I know that will sweeten the deal with my dad. Uh, no pun intended.”

  Delphine smiled weakly. “Oh, okay.”

  “C’mon, we’ll go use the computer in the den.”

  ****

  Delphine spent the next few hours next to Brad in front of the computer on a narrow piano bench, which he apparently deemed superior to two chairs next to each other. She sat pressed up against him from shoulder to knee, making it very difficult for her to concentrate on the figures on the monitor. But after printing out what seemed to be reams of paper, she knew that Brad’s effort had filled out and polished her proposal in ways she hadn’t thought of.

  All at once, she wondered why he was helping her. Did he go to the same effort for all strangers—for all damsels in distress? And did he have a girlfriend? The thought sent an unexpected wave of jealousy through her.

  She knew her envy was misplaced. Brad was a flirt, a highly attractive flirt, who would soon tire of the novelty of being a kind of Lord Bountiful. And horror of horrors, he might even turn into a villain like Snidely Whiplash, demanding payments if her business failed.

  Delphine shuddered at the melodramatic thought. Hopefully, her figures for the business were conservative and reasonable for the repayment of the potential debt.

  Just as Brad slid the improved paperwork back into the envelope, his parents returned home. Delphine recognized his mother when she came into the den. She startled Delphine by giving her a hug.

  “It’s so nice to see you again,” she said, wrapping her in a cloud of expensive perfume. After releasing her, she sent her a speculative gaze. “Do you like Tex-Mex food? I thought of making a French meal but decided it wouldn’t compare with what you’re probably used to. So I thought to make American, well, Tex-Mex, like it’s called, to give you some local flavor. Of course, we’re not actually in Texas, but I’m sure you know what I mean.”

  “Mom,” Brad said, sounding amused, “Delphine is American. French-American, I guess.”

  Elaine Larsen furrowed her brow. “Is there such a thing as French-American food? Like Tex-Mex, maybe it’s called Fren-ican or Amer-ench. Do you like French fries?”

  Delphine covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a nervous giggle.

  Brad groaned. “You’re frightening the guest. And since I know she’s anxious to give her pitch to Dad, why don’t you get started on whatever it is we are having for dinner.”

  Delphine heard the deep affection in Brad’s voice, which softened his words. Elaine kissed him on his cheek. “Such a sweet boy. He’s the last of my four babies and the only one still unattached.” She gave a theatrical sigh. “All this mother needs is to see my boy happily settled with a good woman—”

  “Out, Mom,” Brad growled.

  She patted Delphine’s arm “After dinner, remind me to show you the family photo albums. There are some darling baby pictures of my son in the buff on a sheepskin rug.”

  “Mom!”

  With a knowing wink at Delphine, she left the room. From his red face, Delphine could tell Brad was embarrassed. She felt sorry for him. Weren’t her own parents convinced Brad was the hero come to sweep their daughter off her feet and solve all their problems?

  Ridiculous.

  She and Brad were just two adults helping each other at a temporary intersection of life. Then Delphine remembered she had nothing to offer Brad in return. She ignored that thought, mentally changing the subject.

  “Um, I didn’t know you had any siblings.”

  Brad’s color returned to normal. He ushered her from the den to the living room. “Yes. I have a brother who is the oldest and two older sisters. I arrived six years later after the last one, and have been told I was something of a surprise.”

  Delphine looked at him, wondering what the world would be like without him. Stifling the unaccountably bleak feeling, she silently blessed all the surprise babies of the world.

  In the living room, they found Mr. Larsen on the leather chair which flanked the couch. He rose when he saw her and shook her hand.

  “Good to see you again, Miss D’Arleux. Brad tells me you have a business proposition to put before me. I’m ready when you are.” He returned to his chair and looked at her expectantly.

  Well, the man wastes no time. Resisting the urge to wring her hands, Delphine sat on the corner of the couch nearest Mr. Larsen and opened the envelope. She glanced at Brad, who stood next to the couch. He gave her an encouraging smile.

  Delphine took a breath and did her best to sell her idea to Mr. Larsen—and to convince herself—that she had hope for the future.

  ****

  Brad returned her home at ten o’clock. Delphine shut the apartment door behind her and leaned against it for a moment. Closing her eyes, she couldn’t ever remember having such an enjoyable time.

  Brad had a great family. His parents had welcomed her with such warmth, making her feel like an honored guest, or a member of the family. For a heartbeat, she wished her parents were more like—

  Delphine pushed away from the door, appalled by such a disloyal thought. Her parents were warm and welcoming in their way. They never failed to open their arms to visitors and went out of their way to make everyone feel at home—however temporary that home was.

  But to them, life was a merry game, often regardless of the cost to anything or anyone. Dragging their daughter through twelve schools in as many years had been described as broadening her horizons. Living in their car between rentals had been an adventure.

  Memories as a child of losing favorite toys when her parents made nighttime escapes from apartments flickered through her mind. Delphine would never forget that plush teddy bear won during an elementary school game—snowy white with a blue satin bow—which had been her prized possession. She’d always kept it in the center of her perfectly made bed, except for nights when she fell asleep with it pressed against her cheek.

  One night, she woke up on the back seat of their old car, and sat up, shivering, to look out the window. Her parents’ attempts to reassure her that everything was fine fell on deaf ears when she realized that a small bag containing some of her clothes was empty of that teddy bear. By then, she’d known begging to be taken back to get what had been left behind would be futile. Her tears had never worked in the past, and they wouldn’t then. She’d eventually stopped bringing stuffed animals to bed with her—worried she’d grow too attached and have to leave them behind.

  As she grew, and happened to have a friend or two at the same time she had a birthday, gifts that had any value were later taken to a pawnshop for a few d
ollars to buy milk, bread, and an occasional lottery ticket.

  Growing attached meant pain when it was time to move on.

  Delphine blew out a frustrated breath, silently asking forgiveness for her unfaithful thoughts. Her parents had tried their best. She’d not been beaten or starved, and she’d never doubted their love—though she’d wondered at times their expression of it.

  Now, in their fragile physical states, Delphine felt she couldn’t expect them to work. Her father received a small amount of money through disability insurance after suffering a work-related back injury, and his heart disease contributed to his inability to work steadily. Her mother had been fired from the last five jobs she’d had so the burden for provision fell upon Delphine’s shoulders.

  Some time ago, she’d quit her college classes and taken a full time job at a bakery. It paid the bills—barely. Now that she owed money for the airline ticket, she felt even more decadent over her travel to Europe. Hadn’t she acted as unwisely as her parents? How was she any different?

  She squeezed her eyes shut as the pleasure of the evening faded. Time to get back to reality. Mr. Larsen promised to call within a week on his decision, and maybe she’d even see Brad again.

  Delphine shoved a lock of hair from her eyes and went to check on her parents. Her father lay snoring in bed, while her mother had fallen asleep in the armchair nearby. A pint of toffee-flavored ice cream sat in a puddle of condensation on a small table next to the chair.

  Delphine gave a tsk of annoyance. When the cat’s away. Must she be made to feel guilty every time she left her parents for a while?

  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.

 

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