How Sweet It Is (3 page)

“Of course,” the clerk said, taking her
card, “with our apologies.” He ran the card and stared at the
screen waiting for approval. “Um, I’m sorry, but we cannot accept
this card.”

Her stomach twisted
again.
What now?
“There must be some mistake. Please try again.”

He ran the card once more and shook his head.
“It has been declined.”

The heat, combined with shock, made
Delphine’s head reel. The din of surrounding travelers sounded far
away. “What? I don’t understand!”

“Due to insufficient funds.”

“
Ma
foi!
” Delphine gripped the edge of the
counter and bit her lip, trying to stem the rising panic. “I have
no other money. What can I do?”

The clerk gave a tight smile. “Perhaps you
have friends or family to call? Otherwise, we will make every
possible effort to straighten the problem out and get you on
another flight. I just can’t say how long it will take.”

“I need a moment to think,”
she said faintly. Her heart roaring in her ears, Delphine stumbled
from the desk. The crowds blurred into streams of color and noise
around her.
What happened? Where did the
money go?

Delphine remembered leaving
her card number with her parents, in case of dire emergency. She
sucked in a breath. They wouldn’t…they
couldn’t
have used it. And if they
had, they would’ve let her know. Right? Delphine wracked her brain
for an explanation. Spotting a cash machine, she hurried over to
find out her balance. Perhaps she was just shy of the full amount
and could find a seat on another airline.

Delphine stared in disbelief at the piece of
paper fresh from the machine. Fourteen dollars. A balance of
fourteen dollars? What happened to the eleven hundred she’d set
aside? She closed her eyes, willing away the hot tears building
behind her eyelids. There was no question of an airline ticket
now—not to mention money for a hotel room.

I’m stuck in Paris!

There must’ve been an emergency back home. A
new terror gripped her and she headed for a pay phone. Her mother
was diabetic, her father had heart disease, and neither of them
took any responsibility for their health.

Fighting a fresh wave of
dizziness, Delphine stood in another line to use a public phone.
When it was her turn, she made a collect call home, but no one
answered. Next, she called her neighbor to make sure her parents
were all right. She got through, and after being assured of their
well-being, Delphine hung up the phone. Moving away, she looked out
to the surging crowds of travelers all around—each confident of
where they were going.
Unlike
me
.

Someone tripped over her
suitcase and snapped at her to get out of the way. Mortified, she
dragged her suitcase to a nearby bench.
Now
what?
Relief that her parents were all
right warred with outrage at her predicament. What had happened to
the money? Although she now felt certain her parents were behind
this problem, a part of her held out hope for their innocence.
Maybe there were bank problems—just like there were airline
computer problems.

She lowered herself onto the
bench and held her head in her hands. “
Éternel, me délivrer
.” The half-formed
prayer tumbled from her lips, quickly replaced by a stifled sob.
Squeezing her eyes shut, Delphine took several deep breaths to calm
herself.
Please! I must get
home!

“I can’t understand you. Your accent is too
thick! Is there an interpreter available? This is ridiculous!”

Through the fog of despair, Delphine became
aware of a strident voice rising above the general din and babble
surrounding her in the airport. She wearily looked up through a
break in the crowd and saw a tall, middle-aged man standing a few
steps away. He shook his head at a gesticulating French clerk.

The American, jabbing at a
pile of suitcases, stood next to a blonde, worried-looking
woman.
Guess I’m not the only one with
problems today
.

A younger man had his arms crossed and seemed
to survey the whole scene with a kind of detached boredom. His gaze
swung her way. Delphine caught her breath when she recognized
him.

The man who kissed me!

His face lit up when he spotted her at the
same time. He headed toward her, threading through the
travelers.

Oh, no! I don’t need this on
top of everything else!
Delphine rose to
her feet, taking a step backward until her calves bumped against
the bench.

“We meet again, Miss Delphine.”

When Brad stopped in front
of her, he lifted her hand to his lips. She snatched it away,
wanting only to escape.
I don’t have time
for this. Dear Lord, please help me get home!

“I prayed I would see you again, and here
you are.”

Delphine stared at him when
she heard his reference to prayer. She thought it doubtful someone
of his ilk could be a Christian.
His blue
eyes are too sparkly
.

What am I thinking?
Remembering her degrading situation, she looked
around, needing to distract him from asking too many personal
questions. She saw the couple who must be his parents. They
continued to wrangle with the clerk.

“Are they, um, your parents? Is there a
problem?”

He nodded, rolling his eyes. “He’s got more
baggage than he came with and is trying to figure out how much he
has to check and how much he can bring aboard. Unfortunately that
French guy is kinda hard to understand.”

She took a deep breath. “Perhaps I can help.”
Without waiting, she strode over to the couple.

Delphine hoisted her purse onto her shoulder
and addressed the clerk in French. Obviously relieved to speak to
someone in his own tongue, the clerk launched into his story. When
she ascertained the problem, she turned to Brad’s father. “He says
that although you may not bring the extra bags on board, you can
check them for an additional fee.”

The elder Larsen’s face cleared. “Oh, is that
all? Why didn’t he just say so?” He opened his wallet and pulled
out several U.S. bills.

Delphine glanced back at the
clerk. “
Le besoin il d'argent etre changé à
Traveleux Bureaux de Changes?
”

He nodded and looked
nervously at Mr. Larsen. “
Peut-être une
carte de crédit?
”

“He says if you want to use cash you must
have it changed first. Or you can use a credit card to pay the
fee.”

Brad’s father replaced the cash and pulled a
card from a slot in his wallet. The clerk took the card and began
the process. Mr. Larsen reached out and shook Delphine’s hand.

“Thank you, young lady. I just couldn’t
quite make out what he was trying to say.”

Mrs. Larsen, a feminine version of Brad,
edged past her husband and took Delphine’s other hand. Her blue
eyes snapped with curiosity, obviously wondering at the connection
to her son.

“My name is Elaine and this is my husband,
Don.”

“Delphine saves the day,” Brad teased. His
gaze flicked to her luggage. “Where are you heading?”

“Los Angeles,” she replied—before
remembering her predicament.

“Are you flying Delta? If you are, then
you’ll be on our flight!”

A feeling of faintness assaulted her once
again. Brad stepped forward and put his hands on her upper arms.
“Hey! You’re white as a sheet! What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Making a monumental effort to compose
herself, she attempted to smile. “I…won’t be on your flight.”

To her horror, tears began rolling down her
cheeks.

With Brad on one side and his mother on the
other, they hustled her to one of the curved benches and made her
sit down. Mrs. Larsen produced a tissue and pushed it into
Delphine’s hand.

“You must tell us how we can help,” she
said.

Her maternal tone nearly crumbled Delphine’s
defenses. Through a blur of tears, she glanced up at Brad. When she
saw the sincere concern in his eyes, she buckled completely. While
despising herself for her weakness, the whole sorry tale poured
out.

Mrs. Larsen waved her husband over. “Don, we
need to purchase a ticket for Miss D’Arleux. We’re taking her
home.”

Despite her tears, Delphine suppressed the
hysterical urge to giggle, feeling like a stray puppy about to be
adopted by an animal rights activist.

She wiped the moisture from her cheeks with
the tissue. “Mrs. Larsen, thank you for your generosity, but I just
need to hash it out with the airline. I’m sure I’ll be able to work
everything out. It’s the heat and the crowds—”

Mrs. Larsen stood, pulling Delphine up with
her, and led her back toward the ticket counter, deaf to her
protests.

****

Brad stretched out his legs in the first
class section of the plane, still amazed that his prayer had been
answered. Not only had Delphine appeared at the airport, but his
dad had been able to purchase a ticket in first class where they’d
booked their seats.

Now he had Delphine right
where he wanted her—in the seat next to him. She sat nearest the
window. His parents sat one row ahead.
The
girl from the chocolate shop is really here right beside me. Thank
you, Lord
.

Brad glanced at her again, seeing the worry
etched on her features, the rigid set of her posture. He grabbed
her wringing hands.

“Relax and try to enjoy the trip. It’s a
straight shot to L.A., so it’ll be a long one.”

Her dark gaze restless, Delphine worried her
bottom lip with her teeth. “You need to make your father understand
that I will pay him back as soon as possible.”

Brad’s gaze dropped to her mouth. “Hush, or I
might be tempted to kiss you again, just to silence you.”

Her cheeks flooded with color. She snapped
her mouth shut. Brad wondered what it was about her that made him
behave so badly. But he smiled to himself anyway. When she turned
her head to look out the window, he speculated what she might be
thinking about. She leaned back against her seat and blew out a
breath.

Brad drummed his fingers
against his leg, trying to come up with something to say, still in
awe that she was sitting next to him. He didn’t question why God
had apparently answered his prayer, but he did wonder how to
proceed.
How can I gain her trust and make
sure I get to see her again?

He cleared his throat. “Are you still mad at
me about that kiss?”

Her head swung around and she stared at him.
“Why should I be angry that a complete stranger took such
liberties? When I travel, I expect nothing less.”

Her icy sarcasm made him
shiver.
Yep. Still mad
.

He cleared his throat. “Forgive me, for, um,
taking such liberties.” He ducked his head and peered up at her
with what he hoped was an appealing expression. “Does it make you
feel any better to know I’ve never done that before?”

She spread out her hands. “Tremendously. What
a comfort.”

Ouch
. Brad shifted in his seat.
The puppy
dog eyes didn’t work and I’m running out of
ideas
.

Delphine leaned back against her seat, her
starchiness seeming to wilt. The slump of her shoulders and shadows
under her eyes reminded him of her ordeal at the airport. She’d
looked about to drop when they’d found her. After a few moments, he
noticed her eyes flutter closed.

Poor thing, she’s obviously
exhausted
.

Brad watched her until he
was certain she’d fallen asleep. He knew what he wanted to do, but
also knew he’d probably get in trouble again.
I just want to help…her be more comfortable
. Surely she’d understand. Gazing at her tired face, he made
the decision. Brad pushed the armrest to an upright position and
scooted closer to her. With extreme care, he eased his arm behind
her until her head rolled into the hollow of his shoulder. A light
fragrance of flowers drifted up from the silkiness of her hair.
Brad sighed happily. A French damsel in distress who could make
chocolate.

What man could resist?

****

Delphine slowly awoke with a distinct feeling
of security. She half-opened her eyes, reluctant for the sensation
to end. The drone of engines reminded her she was on an airplane.
Dim light filtered through the cabin from a few overhead lamps. The
other passengers were shadowy figures, snoring softly or speaking
in hushed tones.

Turning her head, she realized her pillow was
warm—and breathing. Delphine let out a squeak of distress to find
herself nestled in Brad’s arms. She jerked away, causing his head
to roll back. He blinked a couple of times and smiled sleepily in
her direction. She gave him a little push when he tried to cuddle
up to her again.

“What time is it?” he asked in a husky
voice, stretching like a cat.

Delphine shot him an outraged glare, unable
to believe his nonchalance. When she didn’t answer, he checked his
watch.

“Two-thirty in the morning, Paris time.” He
turned to her. “How are you doing?”

Gritting her teeth, she edged further away.
“Are you working on another slap in the face?”

“Shh. People are trying to sleep.”

“
Well?
” she hissed.

Brad let out a cavernous yawn and settled
himself more deeply into his seat. “Just with you, Delphine. And
you have to admit, it was very comfortable.”