Love in the Dark (LarssonSiblingsSeries#1)

CHAPTER ONE - DELILAH

DELILAH

I'm a creature of habit. I can't help it. Therefore, my morning is always the same. I wake up intending to work out, hit the snooze button twice on my alarm, grab something to eat, skip my shower, and spend the next however many more hours crying into the never-ending pile of paperwork. I have this routine down to a T, which is why I'm currently wanting to pull my hair out at the sight of Edward Larsson stepping into my store.

"Here we go," I say out loud, grabbing the folder at my side to hide the documents I don't want him to see.

I wait for him to approach me, as it gives me the time to gauge his mood. Deep frown—usual. Cocky smoulder—of course. An overpowering scent of arsehole. We match stares until his big hands fall onto the oak desk with a heavy thud.

"Is it true that you're meeting with EcoMax this month?" he says, his dangerously dark blue eyes giving me a once over.

I have this poker face down. Not that it's any of his business, but, yes I have indeed secured a meeting with the company. "No comment."

There are curls on the top of his head that fall forward when he tips his head to mess with them a little as he lips separate into a big grin. "I believe you just gave me the answer I needed."

"I didn't give you a thing," is my reply when he slides his hands further up my desk.

This guy has no bloody boundaries.

None.

And it's highly annoying.

As if he already knows he's not going to get a peep out of me, he steps back to take a look at the room instead. I wish he wouldn't. It's a bit of a dump at the minute, and you can't tell that I slaved for two hours this morning to try to get some order. "With all due respect, how do you expect a multi-million-pound company to take you and this little dive seriously when you don't even have comfortable chairs to sit in? They've got rips all over them."

I use my arms on the desk to push up, causing my chair to roll back and hit the wall behind the counter. "You can take your nasty comments elsewhere and leave."

He lifts his hands. "I didn't mean to offend you."

The sad thing is that he probably didn't; it's as if his social filter doesn't exist. I shake my head. "Well, you did."

"It's business, that's all. Nothing personal," he says, the heel of his fancy Italian shoes tapping on the floor.

"Business is always personal to me," I reply, waving my arm around for the hell of it. "I'm protective of this place. I practically grew up here with my parents, and these trying times have ruined us. So, can't you just let me have this thing with EcoMax? Come on."

It appears that my words connect to someplace within his frozen soul, but something else overrides it. "We have a reputation to uphold. I need them on our books, and honestly, Delilah, you'd be better to sell the building to start a new adventure. It's a money pit that's always empty."

"Yes, because you stole all of our customers by opening across the road from us," I reply out of breath.

We weren't too concerned when AdvertsGo announced that they would be moving their business over to Grimsby, as some competition can sometimes be healthy. Then when the sign went up almost directly across the street from us, my dad aired his concerns. Two years later, and we're on the brink of bankruptcy.

Edward pulls a face at the rug that sits near his feet. "Because we know what we're doing. We have a plan, ambition, and the money behind us."

I pretend to fiddle with the stapler on my desk to try to hide my growing frustration. He's like a Caviller dog, able to smell your fear a mile away. "An unfair advantage is what it is. You have at least twelve people working for you. There's only me."

"That rug looks infected with something," he says, taking a few steps away from it.

I roll my eyes. "Be careful, Edward, you might catch mange from being near it."

"I know," he says under his breath, loud enough for me to hear.

"You're so heartless," I splutter.

He shakes his head. "I'm honest, maybe a little too honest sometimes, but I have standards that I try to live by. You should try it sometime."

The balls on this guy. "You're so perfect, right?"

Richly soft, his chuckle spreads the room "No. Tell me, Delilah. When was Ecomax created?"

The bastard went and put me on the spot, didn't he?

Edward waited patiently - or at least he made it look like he did - for my answer. And when I couldn't respond without my paperwork, he simply shrugged as if to say my point exactly.

There's a burning in my chest. "That doesn't matter." It does, it really does.

"You need to know your clients inside and out. It's the only way to be successful for them. Know the brand, know the advert," he replies, using that as his exit.

It's a powerful one; I'll give him that as he spins around with the grace of a dancer to march his way towards the rotting door that is on my list to fix. The tailoring of his suit is doing everything for his thick thighs too, which makes me write GO FOR A RUN on my notebook beside me.

He stops with his fingers on the edge of the door handle to look back at me. "I don't back down easy, especially when I see something that I want."

I push my eyeglasses up my nose when they slip down. "Neither do I. You've met your match in me."

It seems that this pleases him. "You're playing with fire, Delilah."

"Is that a threat?" I raise my voice.

"No, just facts," he replies as he pulls open the door. "By the way, I like your glasses. They're giving me Coronation Street in the eighties vibes."

Not granting him with a response, I pull open the file on my desk to get back into the accounts, and he seems to get the message when the slamming of the door echoes around me.

My butt back on to the chair. "Mind the glass in the door, douchebag!" It could shatter at any minute.

I need some water, and maybe a vodka shot. There is some alcohol stashed out the back, but it could inflict serious damage to my insides and is a major no-no to running a business. The shop mobile phone starts to ring when I'm coming back from getting my water bottle from the fridge.

I run so fast that my poor heart doesn't know what to do. "Hello, Branding and Co. Delilah is speaking. How may I help you today?"

"Delilah, baby," my father's worried and worn-out voice gasps down the line. "It's bad today."

My heart speeds up as I hear his breathing turn heavier. "Dad, are you on the oxygen?"

"Yes, but I'm go-going to run out soon. The nurses' aren't due in until eleven."

I tackle my way into my faux fur coat, searching blindly in my handbag for my keys. "You shouldn't be running out. I'm on my way."

"It's been a bad few days."

I eventually find my keys and sprint for the door. "I know you've struggled this week. But, we'll get you feeling back to the old you soon. I promise."

Dad coughs, and it sounds like a rusty engine trying to rid oil. "There's no cure. We know this, Delilah."

I cut across the road after alarming up to see Edward's younger brothers Dexter and Levi roughing each other up behind the large open glass window next to a sofa full of at least six clients. I try to ignore the ache in my chest. "Once the business picks up again, we can get you the best care. We'll go private."

"The business is dying along with me, darling. It isn't what it used to be back in the day."

I jam the key in the car door, trying to get the damn thing to open. "You are not dying, and neither is the business. I have that eco company from London interested in our help, remember?"

Dad gasps down the line. "Just get here as quick as you can. I'm in agony."

By some miracle, the car door opens. "I'm there, Dad."

...

HAPPY FRIDAY! ❤️