I don’t know her last name and I’m in a country where people aren’t impressed with my attempts to speak the language.
This problem requires going to the top.
Brad’s gaze arched upward past the dark medieval lancet windows of the guild houses. He looked past the black, yellow, and red Belgium flags snapping in the rising wind, beyond the towering spire of the Town Hall, to the eggshell blue sky above.
He closed his eyes and said a prayer, hoping that somehow Delphine would reappear once more in his life.
Feeling a strange sense of peace, he plunged his hands in his pockets and went back to the chocolate shop to buy that candy.
Two
Delphine arrived at the Charles De Gaulle airport as the last vestiges of pink and orange sunlight shimmered below the hazy Parisian skyline. She stepped from the TGV train and walked to the Delta desk, one stop on her way to Aérogare/Terminal 2C.
She sighed, wishing she’d had more of a chance to sightsee. I missed so much, but then my budget was so tight. Delphine wondered if she’d ever make it back to Europe to explore at her leisure.
Not likely.
But the courses she’d attended, hosted by a world-renowned candy makers, would give her much needed cachet, especially after she’d exhausted all the classes at home. She hoped to incorporate the Old World skills she’d learned here into her future business back in Glendale.
She thought back to her decision to come to Europe. Deep price cuts in airfares had made the opportunity irresistible, and in an uncharacteristically impulsive move, she’d drained her meager savings to make the trip. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity she couldn’t pass up.
Now, with her head full of new skills and recipes, along with distressingly empty pockets, she wondered if she’d been insane to embark on such an endeavor. For a moment, she wished she possessed the optimism of someone like Brad Larsen.
Delphine’s lips thinned as she remembered his audacious kiss. That man was best forgotten.
Unfortunately, the recent memory of his behavior had plagued her for the rest of the day. When he’d kissed her, her world had tilted out of focus. Treacherous feelings had surged through her body at his touch—feelings that left her alarmed, bewildered, and angry—angry that a flippant philanderer could provoke such a melting reaction in her.
Stop thinking about him!
She took a deep breath and joined the crowded queue to check in for the Delta flight, wondering if the two hundred thousand travelers who passed daily through CDG airport were all trying to get on the same plane as she was.
“Identification, please?”
Delphine looked up to see she was next. She handed her driver’s license to the clerk. The harried employee scanned it, then shook his head.
“I’m sorry, we don’t have any record for you. If you want to purchase a ticket, you’ll have to go to the other desk.”
Smiling a thin smile, Delphine cleared her throat. “I bought a round trip ticket, which I used to fly to France. Now I would like my boarding pass so I can fly home.”
The man scanned the license again. “No, you must be mistaken. There’s no record of your reservation.”
Delphine groped through her purse until she came upon a wrinkled itinerary, printed off when she’d reserved her flight online. She handed it to the clerk.
“This is proof, non?”
He glanced at it. “Not really. Even though the flight number and time is correct, my computer still shows nothing about your having a reservation. You’ll either have to purchase another ticket or talk to an airline representative.”
“Then can you scan the bar code on my luggage tag? Surely, that should tell you something.”
The clerk passed a device over the barcode attached to her bag. “This shows that you arrived from LAX but gives no other information.”
“This is ridiculous!” Delphine cried, beginning to feel ill. “I would like to speak to your supervisor.”
The man nodded distractedly, made a quick phone call, and moved on to the next passenger.
Delphine glanced at her watch. Two hours. Her flight left in two hours. Surely this would be straightened out quickly and she could slump into her airline seat and close her weary eyes.
“Excuse me?” asked a voice in French. “You are in need of assistance?”
Delphine looked up at a male airline representative in a dark blazer with the name of the airline embroidered into the pocket. She handed him her license and itinerary as she quickly sketched out the problem. The man led her to another desk where he accessed a computer. As his fingers tapped on the keyboard and his frown deepened, her stomach twisted into a Gordian knot.
Finally, he shook his head. “We’ve been having occasional glitches with our new software and this morning the computers were down for a while, but everything’s up and running again. However, we have no record of your reservation and I cannot issue you a boarding pass.”
“Glitches? Well, tell me how I can get home. My flight leaves in two hours.”
Still shaking his head, he looked up from the screen. “You will not be able to get on that flight unless you purchase another ticket. When the problem is taken care of, you may be assured will refund your original ticket price once we confirm your information.”
Delphine stared at him in disbelief. A thin line of sweat trickled between her shoulder blades. “I bought a round trip ticket and flew into France without any problem. This is not my fault, this is the airline’s.”
The clerk tapped on the keyboard again as if he hadn’t heard her. “You’re in luck. On the flight you want, there are two seats left in first class. But as I said, you will have to purchase a ticket to be on it.”
When he named the amount, she nearly fainted. It was triple what she’d paid originally. “What if I don’t have the money?”
The clerk’s impassive face regarded her. “Then you will not be on that flight. I’m truly sorry, but with security precautions, and no record of your reservation in our computers, there’s nothing else I can do at the moment.”
Delphine pushed her hair back from her damp forehead, her mind racing. Dear Lord, I need Your help. Suddenly, she remembered that she should have just the amount in her checking account, since she’d used only her savings to finance the trip. The only problem was it could take months to get a refund from the airline when they found the problem. And the money in her checking had been carefully budgeted and set aside for household expenses—not this trip. How could she make it until her next paycheck? Then again she wouldn’t have a job if she failed to show up to work.
But what choice do I have? I can’t just hang around hoping they’ll fix the problem. What if they never find my reservation?
Delphine grabbed her wallet and pulled out her debit card. “I’ll be filing my complaint with the airline,” she said, her voice shaking. “And I expect full reparations to be made.”
“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 b
ottom 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.
How Sweet It Is Page 2
