CHAPTER 1: The First Cut

CASSIE

It was a new day and I had taken a cooking class all because I wanted to run to the one place what I loved was reachable. The scent of garlic, bay leaf and butter filled the tiny cooking classroom, I inhaled deeply letting the aroma settle in. This was the one place I could act like I had my life all together, that I wasn't drowning from how my life was turning out, that my bank account wasn't a circus, my dreams weren't slipping away from me and my parent's voice weren't and echo in my mind, reminding me how much of a failure I was. It is what I'd call a temporary escape from the chaos my life had become.

I stared intensely at the onions on my cutting board which were meant to be diced. Rather, they looked like large uneven chunks that had been chopped with a blindfold on.

"You're holding the knife wrong".

I froze in my steps. I heard a deep, steady unfamiliar voice that didn't sound like the usual members I knew in this classroom who were just as clueless as I was.

I turned slightly and met a pair of blue eyes. He was unusually attractive… tall, well chiselled jawline and tousled dark hair, and a cherry on top, he was expensively dressed even in casual clothes.

He looked completely out of place in the community centre cooking class. He looked more like someone who should be dining at a penthouse restaurant critiquing the wine list and not standing next to me commenting on my knife skills like he was the Chef here and not a student.

I arched a brow. "Sorry?"

He didn't flinch a tad bit, rather his gaze flicked to my hands then up to my face and said "Your grip is too tight, it makes your movements stiff."

I scoffed "psss, so you're a chef now?"

His lips twitched like it was about to curl up with a smile.

Then he replied "No. But I know enough."

"God, I hate him already" I whispered under my breath.

I adjusted my grip anyway, just to prove I wasn't incompetent as he thought. To my surprise, my next cut came out… well, perfect!

Great. The rich guy was right.

I sighed. "Fantastic. You can cook and be smug about it."

He didn't respond though, he just continued slicing his bell peppers effortlessly… almost like he was some chef at a five-star restaurant. It made me want to throw my poorly diced onions at his face.

Curiosity gnawed at me and I could no longer ignore his looming presence. I mean he obviously doesn't fit in here, what was he doing here? Everyone else present is either here to have fun, laugh, learn and the ones that don't grab things fast fumble their way through class. But him? He was too, grave, too fixated!

I blurted out, "Why are you taking this class?"

A flicker of something spread across his face. Gone so fast, I almost missed it.

Then, he replied softly, "Why are you?"

I hesitated and thought to myself… because this was the only thing in my life that doesn't feel like a complete disaster. He can't know that!

I shrugged. "I just needed a distraction."

His gaze didn't waver. "Same."

I didn't believe him… it was something about the way he replied me, like he just mirrored my behavior. But I didn't press further either.

GEORGE

I wiped my hands on the kitchen towel and my gaze fell on someone out of the corner of my eyes. A young lady struggling with cutting her onions, looking like she has never held a knife in her entire life. I read her name tag "Cassie."

She didn't notice how long I was staring actually; she looked dashing beautiful.

She was way too busy frowning at her cutting board like the onions had offended her.

She seemed to be quite different... A lot different from other ladies that had ever intrigued me. It wasn't just because of her sharp tongue or the way she stubbornly attacked the vegetables. There was something in her eyes, like she was tired of everything, like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders while shutting everyone out.

I knew that feeling far too well.

A few hours more and the class was over. I watched as everyone scurried out of the room... it felt like high school all over again.

'ay, the good old days' I said to myself.

But my eyes were fixated on Cassie, I doubt she got my name.

By the time I got out of the classroom, the night air was crisp, cooling the heat from the kitchen. I had planned to leave without another word until I did my research on her. But when I spotted Cassie standing alone, arms crossed, staring at the empty street, something stopped me.

I sighed to myself "I guess this is the beginning of the end for me…" because I'm rarely interested in anyone that much to do a deep search about them.

She didn't look like she was waiting for someone. She just looked… lost.

"You never answered my question." I said walking calmly towards her.

She turned sharply. "I don't remember you asking one."

I smirked. "Why are you taking this class?"

She tilted her head slightly and exhaled.

"And why do you care?"

I shrugged. "I don't. Just making conversation."

Her eyes narrowed, like she was trying to decide if I was lying.

I was.

She let out a short breath. "Cooking helps me take my mind off things."

Not a lie. But not the full truth, either.

I recognized the deflection. I'd spent years perfecting it myself.

"Maybe I just like cooking," I said, matching her evasiveness.

She gave me a look so skeptical I almost laughed.

I liked that.

She shifted her bag on her shoulder. "Well, see you around, mystery man."

She turned to leave.

Before she could, I said, "Cassie."

She froze in her steps and turned back slowly. I could see the wariness in her eyes.

I held her gaze. "You don't have to fight alone."

For a brief second, something cracked in her expression. A flicker of vulnerability. Then, just as quickly, it vanished.

And she walked away.

CASSIE

His words echoed non-stop in my mind after I left the community center.

"You don't have to fight alone."

What the hell was that supposed to mean? I pouted.

I pulled my jacket tighter around myself as I walked past the broken cars and poorly lit café which meant it was just a few blocks until I got home. The streetlights buzzed as I walked by, casting long shadows on the cracked pavement. The neighborhood wasn't the worst, but it wasn't great either. A place where the rent was cheap, the walls were thin, and the electricity worked most of the time.

My parents would lose their minds if they saw where I lived.

But they didn't know. They didn't know a lot of things.

I climbed the stairs and unlocked the door to my apartment; I stepped into the tiny space I called home. My keyboard sat in the corner, next to a stack of rejection emails I hadn't had the heart to throw away.

I dropped my bag on the floor, ignoring the emptiness in my chest. I was tired of the endless loop my life was in and how much I was failing at these whole charades called LIFE.

I had gotten good at ignoring it, the emptiness I felt.

The cooking class was supposed to be another distraction. Another way to avoid the growing panic of failure, of dreams slipping further out of reach.

And now, somehow, it had been invaded by a ridiculously attractive stranger who had no business saying things that hit too close to home.

I sighed, kicking my shoes off. I picked one leg and carefully examined it. It looked extremely worn out and the sole was already torn. I badly needed a new pair as soon as possible but I know my bankroll for the month can't take it.

I slammed my door in frustration and just immediately, a part of my ceiling fell right on me.

Great.

I didn't have any energy left to think about him tonight.

I had bigger problems and a man wasn't on my bingo cart this year.

GEORGE

The wind whipped through my hair as I leaned against the railing of my penthouse balcony. It is a lovely night today, air cool,night calm and all I can think of is Her, as I watched the busyness of cars and people walking on the street.

It had been a long time since I had been intrigued by someone.

Cassie Davidson had done it in less than an hour… yeah, I had already dug about everything there is to know about her.

One might call it stalking but I term it playing it safe.

I wasn't sure why I cared so much.

But I did.

And that meant trouble but I still loved that.