“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.”
Delphine wiggled a finger in her ear, pretending to be offended by the way he spoke the French for ‘house of chocolates’, but couldn’t suppress a smile.
For reasons she couldn’t fathom, she felt as driven as her parents to keep him by her side. Soon, he’d no longer have time for a nonchalant relationship with a female of such dubious means.
Soon, he’d be in some office surrounded by professional beauties who didn’t have weird hang-ups.
Delphine scrunched her face at the thought.
“What’s the matter?”
Forcing herself to relax, she hedged. “Um, you have to admit, this whole enterprise is nerve-racking.”
“But with my help, you’re guaranteed to succeed.”
Delphine laughed softly. “Oh, really? And how long will you stay around to make sure I keep out of trouble?” She held her breath, waiting for his answer, sure he’d only make a flirtatious remark. She sent him a look that dared him to do otherwise.
Brad’s gaze was teasing. “As long as you’ll have me.”
Delphine lowered her eyes to hide a flash of disappointment. She hated being right. This was all just a mildly entertaining game to him.
That’s what I get for wanting more than I deserve.
****
A week later, Delphine stood close to Brad in a local home improvement warehouse, close enough to feel the warmth of his body. They were supposed to be choosing a wall color, but Brad’s proximity jumbled her thinking.
She thought about his help over the last week. She’d leased the shop and began the task of cleaning it in the afternoons after her job at the bakery. Brad had showed up every day, looking ridiculously handsome in frayed jeans and a variety of bright surfing T-shirts. She had to admit he worked hard, and she could scarcely deny him tagging home with her each night for dinner.
Her parents viewed him in the light of a suitor and poured on the charm, which the like-minded Brad soaked right up, apparently without a qualm. And despite her best attempts to remain immune, his lighthearted nature was working its insidious way into her heart, threatening her hard-fought stability.
Delphine also realized she was coming to depend too much on him. But was it his congenial company and hard work, or his effusive sweetness that she found so necessary?
The memory of their meeting in Belgium played havoc with her resolve as she wondered what it would be like to receive a kiss she actually welcomed. Despite his teasing and flirting, he’d never tried again. Her face grew hot at the outrageous direction of her thoughts.
Silly girl! Especially since he no longer treats you as a romantic interest.
Tempering her growing attraction was the dismal fact that in so many ways she felt beholden to him. How could she ever repay his help, his support? Fear of a failing business paled in comparison to losing Brad’s friendship.
He held out a color wheel for her examination, interrupting her disturbing reverie.
“I think the bluish-green or,” he tilted the card to read the title, “Oceania, would go well with the stone tiles you chose for the lobby. What do you think?”
She nodded, amazed at how well their ideas meshed. They shared the same tastes in color and textures, and choosing the interior decor with him had been absurdly pleasurable.
“Delphine, are you listening?” Brad looked down at her with a smile. “The color is a bit dark but it will give an intim
ate ambiance to the shop, especially with all the recessed lighting we’ll install.”
Intimate.
The word conjured up thoughts and feelings which were becoming more and more difficult to suppress. She gazed up at him, wondering if she had what it took to get him to see her as more than someone available for light flirtation. His eyes were so very blue, like Oceania…
Brad fanned the color samples in front of her face. “Yoo hoo. Earth to Delphine. Is this the one you want?”
“Perfect,” she replied, squashing all fluffy nonsense from her mind.
After she settled on her choices and had everything loaded into the back of a pickup Brad had borrowed from a friend, they headed for the shop. Delphine spent the rest of the day in strictly utilitarian pursuits of prepping walls and painting.
****
“It’s really coming together,” Brad said with a satisfied expression.
Delphine tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she surveyed the transformation. She remembered her dismay the first time she’d seen it. Wow, I can’t believe this is the same place!
All the shop lacked now were rows and rows of chocolates.
Brad had been a tremendous help. He’d put down new vinyl flooring in the kitchen area of the shop. In the front where the customers would gather, they laid the stone tiles. After they put in recessed lighting where it would highlight the product, they added the glass cases, wooden prep table, racks, and myriads of copper cooking pots which she’d purchased in Orange County from a retiring candy maker.
Delphine smiled, feeling a rush of affection for Brad—mixed with a clinging sensation of guilt. “I couldn’t have done it without you. Not to mention the tremendous amount of money I’m saving by not having to hire professional contractors—”
How Sweet It Is Page 6