Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 21: Reprimanding the Alpha
Karl

I cross my arms and take a glance around the kitchen. The tiles sparkle like they’re brand new, and the

entire place smells like lemon cleaning solution; I’ve just finished mopping the floor, and although I

would never admit it to anyone, it’s… the first time I’ve ever used a mop.

“Maybe I’m a bit out of my depth here,” I think to myself as I look around. “But I want to do a good job.

For Abby.”

I might not know a great deal about mopping floors, but I do know a lot about running a business. I just

hope that Abby will let me help more in the future. She said she doesn’t need another leader, but that

doesn’t mean that I can’t give her ideas, right?

“Karl,” Abby shouts from across the kitchen, her voice commanding over the din of kitchen noises. “Put

the mop away. We need you over here cleaning dishes.”

She points to the growing pile of dishes on the far counter, then the dishwasher beside it. Ethan had

given me a long-winded tutorial on how the machine worked earlier, but I was really hoping to avoid

that particular job. The idea of touching soggy food and getting hot water all over myself isn’t the most

appealing of ideas, but I know that it needs to be done.

I nod and return the mop to the place I found it. The current dishwasher meets me at the back sink,

where the dirty plates are overflowing.

“Excess food goes in there,” he says, pointing to a nearby garbage bin. “You scrape that off and I’ll

rinse.” Until now, he’s been doing all three jobs himself. It’s clear he’s struggling to keep up with the

never-ending piles of dirty plates that the busboys keep bringing in.

“Geez,” I think to myself. If Abby was worried about losing business and having to close down, she

needn’t have bothered. Now that the place is up and running again, the dinner rush has been nonstop.

Without a word, the dishwasher hands me one of the plates. There’s a half-eaten steak on top, gravy

everywhere, what looks like mashed potatoes that someone swirled around with their fork before

deciding that they didn’t want them. I can’t help but scrunch up my nose at the mess; who orders a

steak and then only eats half of it? It feels like a waste.

the dishwasher, wanting

it. It’s

to memory. I’ve always been good

“Here, Jack,” I say, handing

the garbage

plate. I’ve already scraped

huff, Jack shoots me an annoyed look. “There’s still mashed potatoes on the plate. Are

my dishwasher or

but I decide not to

scrape over the trash can. When I’m satisfied, I turn to

he just makes another face, snat ches it out of my hand, and

out a small sigh of annoyance at

life, and there’s too

go to that party with

be faster if you spent less time rinsing off each plate,”

the counter. If we don’t start moving faster, the dirty plates are going

over us.

me bristle. “You have to rinse them well, or

crusted to the plates.”

just saying. I’m getting the plates ready for you a lot faster than you’re able

should rinse them.”

“That wouldn’t make sense.”

plate and stack it next to the sink. “It makes a lot of

charge here, and I say we do it this way.” Jack shoots me an

filled with annoyance.

to say more, but before

I brace

I say, wiping the sweat from my

she says. “He’s busy and you’re not

help but frown. “I was just

back at the dishwasher. “It’s your job to shut

dishwasher before, and you haven’t. Just do what he tells you. Unless you’re trying to lose

bet.”

grit my teeth, but nod. If that’s

Even if it’s stupid.

…

Abby

his work, scraping food scraps into the garbage. I watch

together. He’s saying something to Jack that I can’t hear, but

on Jack’s

an opinion on. For some reason, he can’t accept

one in charge

to being in charge, and dominance is not something you

to cause problems. The last thing I need is another

a little bit

the top dog everywhere he goes. Restaurant kitchens always teach

part of the