"Very good. You're improving, Chase," the short, pink-haired woman nodded her approval at the bowl on the table. I let out a thankful sigh.
"Finally," I muttered to myself, taking the bowl from the woman and turning towards the kitchen. As I poured the remainder of the dish into a container, I glanced around the room. It was just the same as it had been for the last year I'd been here: same wood floors, same wood cabinets, same silvery sink, same tiny refrigerator…
"Chase, come here a moment."
I sighed quietly and fastened the lid on the container. After practically throwing the soup into the fridge, I went out of the kitchen and sat down at one of the tables, across from the short woman who'd called me.
"Yes, Yolanda?" I asked, trying to give her my full attention. She smiled softly—a rarity these days—and began to speak.
"You've been my protege for a little over a year now, and I have to say, you've greatly enhanced your skills as a chef." She leaned back in her chair, fixing her gaze fondly at the ceiling. I scratched the back of my head sheepishly, my fingers almost getting stuck into my chaotic peach hair.
"Um, thank you…?"
She looked back at me, still grinning. "I'm promoting you."
I raised my eyebrow, not fully understanding. What did she mean, 'promoting'? The only two chefs on this whole island were her and me, and the only place that specialized in food was here at the Sundae Inn. I couldn't become the head chef—that would mean replacing Yolanda. Where was there for me to go?
She must've noticed my confusion, since she began to explain. "I am going away for a few seasons with Elli to visit her grandmother in Flowerbud Village, and to help out at their bakery. That means I'm leaving you here, in my place."
I gaped at her, unable to really say anything. It took me a few seconds, but I managed to utter, "Um, thank you…"
She shook her head, still smiling. Goddess, that was really creeping me out. She never smiled when I was with her. She was always frowning, scowling, or she had her face pinched up in annoyance. I had assumed I wasn't the easiest person to work with, let alone teach, but I decided that if I was really that awful, then she'd have already kicked me out.
I looked up at her as she stood, stretching her arms over her head. "Ah… well, it's getting a little late. I don't think Hayden's going to open the bar tonight since Kathy's sick with the flu, so you should just head on home. Oh," she added as I stood and turned to leave, "I almost forgot. We hired another chef from the city to help you out, just in case you got a little… overwhelmed. She should be here tomorrow morning."
"Another chef? Wait—what?" I asked, almost tripping over one of the chair's legs. "You hired someone else?!"
"Relax," she waved her hand at me, closing her eyes, "just think of her as… as a sous chef. She's here to help you. Not hurt you."
And with that, she went back into the kitchen, ending the conversation. I sighed, rather frustrated, and turned to leave again. I was just about halfway through the door when Yolanda's somewhat manly voice stopped me—again.
"I'm leaving as soon as she gets here, so why don't you be a polite young man and meet her here, as well as see me off?" Without waiting for a response, she continued, "Tomorrow morning at seven o'clock, here. Have a nice night, Chase."
Then I finally left, having to physically stop myself from slamming the door on my way out.
...This is... not Graire, as most of you perceptive readers have noticed. However, it is going to be pretty good, I hope, so... read? Review, too, please. And chapters won't be nearly this short - this is just the prologue, so I have something solid to start on. If you consider 700 words solid. Oh, the story isn't as dull and/or glum as the prologue is, either ;-;
Chase FTW. Unfortunately, since this is my first non-GrayxClaire fic, there are a few people out there who now have the right to slap me with an oar. Oh joy. REVIEW! Oh, please, please, please! :D