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 chastised him about. She wanted him to ease into the craft and enjoy his work. But the young chef found that 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, he decided to be compassionate and delve into the art of consolation.

He left his soup to boiling high 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 came to mind. The girl was gangly and awkward and uncharacteristically clumsy. She walked like a 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. Her lip was quivering. "Owen is such a…"

Chase's eyebrows lifted as 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. "Something happened between Owen and Akari, and she won't tell me about it."

He shrugged. "Maybe she doesn't want to."

Kathy stared at him like he had an eyeball hanging from one of his sockets. "Well, she's my best friend, and I want to know."

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 breadcrumbs off the green eyes beamed with an idea. "You!"

He frowned. "Me?"

"Yes! Could you please talk to Akari for me?" She clasped her hands together and batted her eyelashes.

Chase was unmoved. "No, thanks."

"Why not?"

He sneered. "That sort of thing is beyond my area of expertise." From the kitchen, an eerie whistle and the sound of sizzling filled the room. Chase's 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 five pounds worth of burnt soup down the drain. He tried to scrape the charred meat and veggies from the bottom of the pot to no avail. Yolanda would kill him for his carelessness if she ever found out. How does a person, much less a chef, manage to burn soup? He was tempted to hang up his apron and bow out with shame.

"Akari is one of my best friends, Chase," Kathy said. "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. Was that…guilt? It had been so long since he'd felt it, he barely recognized the feeling. Yet here it was, strong enough to make him reconsider. He couldn't believe it.

"Fine," he said.

"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."

She laughed. "You are, Chase. You are."

Chase figured he'd use the time as an early lunch break—keep Hayden from grilling him about where he'd been. Kathy promised to let her dad know, waving him off with a smile. He made her swear not to breathe a word of his "good deed" to anyone. The last thing he needed was for people to get the wrong idea. Not that he was sure what kind of reputation he had, but it kept most people at arm's length. Just how he liked it.

The approaching evening left a chill in the air and the scent of burning wood filled the sky. The trees shimmered gold in the waning light as the sun started to set off in the west. Chase's steps were slow, each one a deliberate stall on his way to Akari's farm. Talking to someone he barely knew? That felt like walking into a trap. The thought of some sobbing girl unloading her problems onto him—ugh. Crying made his skin crawl. But it was too late to back out. His reputation was already shot; he didn't need to add "coward" to the list. He sighed, burying his hands deeper in his pockets.

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