#same somebody

Castanet was a cesspool--a black kettle, even-- for visitors. It was just that kind of place. To be frank, he couldn’t believe he’d ever gravitate back to it... since it didn’t suit him. The sentimentality. But in hell’s kitchen, sometimes the gut knew before the brain did. Something about Castanet was just... alluring. And he couldn’t do anything about it but go with the flow. Since that was the case, there was no wonder that tourists and visitors alike would gravitate toward it--like the last slice of cake. Gill would probably cry tears of gold knowing his pretty little peninsula brought in a hefty amount of attention. 

Ugh. Speaking of attention...

Yolanda said he had an appointment today, with some girl off from some place with some name. He probably had to have some tact, since she probably wasn’t just some girl from some place-- she had a big name out there in the culinary world. A critic, something about a tongue fit for honey. (A.K.A. the residential poison taster in a King’s Court.) Well... unfortunately, a name was just a name. Chase wasn’t one to remember them, anyway. 

He didn’t bother looking her up. In fact, he used that time that other’s put into research... on better things. A person was an occasion. A dish was forever. Hell, all he had was hard work, anyway, so he spent his time prepping for a better ‘forever’. Whatever she asked him to serve, he’d serve her just the same as he did any other customer. With a dash of hard work and a mentality of a guy who had nothing at stake but... well. Steak.

And speak of the devil.

He might have been wrong about this, but the girl who popped in was just the sort of person who’d be dragged into this homey, cozy, trap of a town. But even if she wasn’t that ‘some girl’ he’d treat her just the same anyway. “Welcome to Brass Bar. What can I do for you?”