How Sweet It Is (9 page)

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 intimate 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—”

Brad raised his hands. “Hey, you’re making me
blush.”

“You really must accept some kind of
payment.” She swallowed a lump in her throat, knowing she had
nothing really to offer. Except chocolates.

“Think of it as a work-study program for
me,” he said with a grin. “I’ll put the experience on my
résumé.”

“Still, how can I ever repay you?”

Brad surveyed her for a moment, then put his
hands on her shoulders. The warmth of his hands came through the
thin fabric of her shirt. She couldn’t decipher the expression in
his eyes, and was only aware of an odd breathlessness, of an
unnamed expectation surging through her.

The clock in the back ticked out industrial
minutes, and beyond the shop windows, the sounds of traffic
permeated the otherwise silent room. Brad’s hand strayed to her
hair, smoothing an errant strand from her face. Delphine’s heart
leaped into her throat. She stood motionless, watching him,
wondering what he’d do next.

What if…what if he kisses me again?

What if he doesn’t?

His expression subtly faded. He lowered his
gaze, dropping his hands.

Anticipation melted away under the weight of
disappointment.

Delphine tried to keep the regret from
showing. She took a deep breath. “Um, I’m anxious to start my first
batch of candy in the new kitchen. Want to watch?”

“Are you going to make chocolate candies?”
he asked, his blue eyes gleaming again.

She suppressed a smile. Never had she known
such a hopeless chocoholic. Nodding, she headed into the kitchen
and looped an apron around her waist.

“Can I help?” he asked, following close
behind.

She turned around. “You mean do more than be
my taste-tester?” At his guilty expression, she smiled her assent.
“First, we wash our hands.”

They stood at the sink side by side,
scrubbing their hands, creating mountains of bubbles. Brad insisted
on doing everything the silly way, and managed to get soap on his
face as well as his hands. She went to the stock room and collected
a small supply of ingredients and put them next to the marble slab,
which was set on one end of the wood prep table. Brad plopped onto
one of the nearby stools.

His enthusiasm was infectious, but Delphine
was at a slight loss as to understand it. She made chocolates
because she had a knack for cooking, and while she could discern
good flavor in the product, she was more interested in excellence
of quality than just eating it for fun.

“First,” she said in an instructor’s tone,
“I have to check the temperature of the air conditioner to make
sure it isn’t too warm, or else the chocolate won’t set up.”

He jumped up from the stool and headed for
the thermostat. “I’ll do it. What temp do you need?”

“Below seventy degrees.”

“We got sixty-nine.” He came back to the
stool, his gaze fastened on the eleven-pound slab of chocolate on
the worktable.

She nodded her approval.
“
D’accord
. Now for
dipping chocolate, we need what’s known as
courveture
, and I’m using Callebaut,
one of the best brands.”

She broke off a chunk at the segment mark and
put it in a double boiler on the stove. Brad slid from the stool
and came up to the stove to watch more closely. She smiled at him.
He didn’t notice because his gaze remained fastened on the
chocolate.

Once it began a slow melt at a low
temperature, Delphine pulled a professional grade electric skillet
from one of the shelves and set it on the worktable. Next, she put
out trays lined with wax paper, along with a tray she’d prepared
earlier filled with soft caramel centers to dip into the
chocolate.

“It’s really melting,” Brad said, his voice
tinged with awe. “Is it ready to eat?”

“Nope. We’re tempering it first. It has to
get to about eighty-five degrees before we can start dipping.”

When the thermometer read the correct
temperature, Delphine put her hand in the double boiler and scooped
some chocolate into the skillet.

“What are you doing?” Brad asked, his eyes
wide as if she’d just done something shocking.

“Checking for correct consistency and
temperature.”

“Isn’t it too hot to touch?”

She shook her head.

“Okay, I need to do that, too,” Brad said,
nudging her gently aside.

Delphine laughed. “All right, but no licking
your fingers until after we’re done.”

As if in a trance, he reverently lowered his
hand into the chocolate and scooped some into the skillet.
“Wow.”

“Move your hand in an S motion to cool it
and to keep it from setting up. She guided his hand through the
chocolate as it cooled a little.

He glanced up at her and arched a brow. “I
knew it was fun to eat, but had no idea how much fun it was to
make.”

Delphine lowered her gaze to hide the effect
his words had on her. “Now,” she said in a brisk manner, “touch
your finger to this waxed paper to leave a little blob of
chocolate. If it sets up within three minutes, we know it’s ready
for dipping.”

Brad complied, but after making a dot on the
paper with a chocolaty finger, he stuck his finger in his
mouth.

“Hey! I said no tasting yet.”

Brad raised a brow. “Will this batch be for
public consumption?”

“Well, no, but—”

“But nothing.” He grinned, unrepentant.
“This stuff’s meant for eating and I’m just obliging it.”

She watched him lick his fingers and shook
her head. “I can see you’ll be a threat to my profit margin.”

“Guilty.”

Delphine tried to frown. “When you’re ready
to continue, we’ll be moving to the next step—dipping.”

Brad peeled the wax paper away from the test
dot and pronounced it also ready to eat.

She blew out a noisy sigh. “Pay
attention!”

Brad licked his lips and looked at her
expectantly.

“Okay, now we take the caramel centers and
dip them like this.” Delphine suited action to words and expertly
placed her first candy onto the wax paper lined tray.

“It’s poetry in motion,” Brad said, his
expression mesmerized.

She stepped to the side. “Your turn.”

Brad responded with alacrity. He popped a
bare caramel in his mouth and held up his hand. “Just a little
quality check. The best chocolate in the world couldn’t mask an
inferior caramel.”

Delphine rolled her eyes. “I’d hardly buy
high quality chocolate while using other inferior ingredients.”

He returned her look with a limpid one and
plunked a caramel into the chocolate. When he tried to pick it up,
it slid from his fingers. He scrunched his brows in concentration,
scrabbling in the liquid chocolate before finally holding up the
candy, while melted chocolate ran in little brown rivers down his
arm.

“Set it on the—” Before she could finish the
sentence, Brad had eaten the dipped candy.

“I better try that again,” he said with
smudged lips. His next attempt lacked improvement, but at least he
managed to set the candy onto the paper.

Delphine wedged herself between him and the
table. “I think I’ll take over from here.” She moved her hand in
the chocolate, alternately dipping all the caramels, and tapping
them slightly to make a little decorative squiggle on top. She
added more chocolate from the pan, and continued dipping until the
entire batch was complete.

“You make that look easy,” Brad said,
greedily gazing at the full tray.

Delphine sent him a rueful smile. “You have a
dab of chocolate at the corner of your mouth.” Remembering their
time at the café, she lifted an edge of her apron to wipe it away,
but he took a step backward.

“Don’t waste it!” His tongue darted out and
took care of it.

Delphine cleared her throat. “I have to
remind myself that it’s people like you who will help me
succeed.”

He ate another caramel and sent her a lazy
smile. “Don’t you forget it.”

She cleaned up the workspace, amazed that she
could enjoy a mundane task so much when Brad was with her. What
would she do when he moved on to other things? To other people?

An image of him flirting with some other
female darkened her mind. She frowned, wishing away the
thought.

He stepped in front of her and tipped up her
chin. “Hey, why are you so serious all of a sudden?”

She shrugged, unable to
suppress the notion that she was probably just a temporary
diversion in his life.
But wasn’t that what
I wanted?
“Just tired, I guess. And
hungry.”