Chop. Chop. Chop.

Plop. Plop. Plop.

Chase sliced the long, slender carrot into perfect round circles and dropped them into the pot of steaming chicken broth. He added a pinch of salt and pepper and a teaspoon of garlic, determined to measure just the right amount. He had always been a perfectionist. It was something Yolanda reprimanded him about. She constantly reminded to ease into the craft and enjoy his work. But the young chef found that nearly impossible. He was, after all, competing against one of the greatest cooks that had ever graced Castanet. Maybe it was her love for each dish that made her the better cook.

A blustery breeze disrupted the warmth of the kitchen as Chase heard the door to the bar close. He turned his head to catch a glimpse of the visitor and was surprised to see a dripping wet Kathy with her head pressed against the wall. Normally this sort of thing wouldn't faze Chase. He was unfamiliar with sympathy and completely clueless to emotions. But Kathy was one of the few people on the island that he got along well with. So for once, just once, he decided to be compassionate and delve into the art of consolation.

He allowed his soup to simmer on low heat as he walked over to the sulking waitress. "What's wrong with you?" He inquired.

Kathy groaned without lifting her head from the wall. "Akari."

Chase smirked. "Akari…?" A petite, brunette with hazelnut colored eyes surfaced to his memory. The girl was gangly and awkward and uncharacteristically clumsy. She walked like duck. He was often entertained by watching her trip over her own feet, which for some odd reason were never parallel to one another. But she seemed nice enough.

"Uh-huh," Kathy replied. She lifted her head and tucked her blond hair behind her ears. To his surprise, her lip was quivering. "Owen is such a…"

The chef's eyebrows lifted in shock as the Kathy spewed out a bunch of derogatory insults toward Owen. And he thought he had a colorful vocabulary.

He blinked. "So this is about Owen now?"

"Ugh!" Kathy cried out. She began pacing around the tables as she explained herself. Chase reluctantly followed. "Something happened between Owen and Akari, and she won't tell me about it."

He shrugged. "Maybe she doesn't want you in her business."

Kathy stared at him like he had an eyeball hanging from one of his sockets. "It is my business if my best friend is hurt!"

Chase opted for arguing but decided it would be pointless. Instead, he asked, "So what are you going to do?"

Kathy sighed. "I don't know…" She glanced at Chase, who was flicking bread crumbs off the table with his thumb and forefinger. Her green eyes beamed with an idea. "You!"

He frowned, confused. "Me?"

"Yes! Could you please talk to Akari for me?" She clasped her hands together and lifted her back leg.

Chase didn't even bat an eyelash. "No, thanks."

"Why not?"

He laughed bitterly. "That sort of thing is beyond my area of expertise." From the kitchen, an eerie whistle and the sound of sizzling filled through the room. Chase's brilliant violet eyes widened in alarm. He and Kathy rushed to the back room to see his pot of soup foaming and bubbling over on the hot stove. The chef swore under his breath and grabbed a dish rag in the drawer beneath him. This is what happened when he was too overly concerned with others. Kathy shot him an apologetic look and turned the stove off. She stuck her nose inside the pot and took a long whiff of the aroma and frowned. But in an attempt to please Chase, she sighed in delight. "Smells great!"

He rolled his eyes. "Save it."

Together they cleaned up the kitchen and dumped about ten pounds worth of burnt soup down the drain. Yolanda would kill him for his carelessness if she ever found out.

"Akari is one of my best friends, Chase," Kathy said quietly after they finished. "I want to know if there's anything I can do to help her. Owen drinks a lot, but he never…" She left her sentence in midair, uncertain if she should confide in him. "Anyway, could you just do this one thing for me?"

Chase groaned. There was no way. Was he actually feeling a twinge of…guilt? It was an emotion his conscious had neglected to reveal to him in a long time, and Chase had never suspected it would be so powerful. Powerful enough to change his mind, even. It couldn't be possible.

"Fine," he drawled.

"Thank you!" Kathy cried as she threw her arms around his waist.

He squirmed. "Please don't hug me. It makes me feel like I'm a good person."

The waitress laughed. "You are, Chase," she said earnestly. "You are."

Chase decided to use the time as an early lunch break so that Hayden wouldn't question his absence when he returned. Kathy promised to tell her dad and waved him goodbye. He made her swear not to tell anyone of his generous deed, afraid that it would ruin his reputation.

The approaching autumn left a chill in the air and the scent of burning wood filled the sky. The trees sparkled gold in the waning light as the sun started to set off in the west. Chase took long, slow steps to prolong his time in reaching Akari's farm. It was daunting having to talk someone he knew hardly anything about. He also wasn't too fond of the image of a blubbering girl crying on his shoulder as she droned on and on about her problems. Crying disturbed him. But it was too late to back out now. His reputation was already destroyed. He didn't want to be known as a coward, too. He sighed, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets.

What made Kathy think that she was going to confide in him? A recluse, sarcastic chef…