Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 41: Sparks Fly
Abby

Pushing the restaurant’s door open, I’m immediately enveloped by the scent of fresh bread and

brewing coffee.

The day beckons, promising a hustle that I’m both dreading and anticipating. Each wooden table is

adorned with a fresh bunch of flowers, the gentle hum of the morning preparations playing softly in the

background.

“Morning, Abby!” Jake, my ever-efficient waiter, calls out, balancing a tray of fresh pastries on his palm.

His smile reaches his eyes, but there’s an underlying tension behind his gaze. Word travels fast, and

I’m sure the staff knows about the disaster that was last night.

From behind the bar, Chloe shoots me a sheepish grin. I narrow my eyes at her, knowing that she likely

blabbed to someone, but I can’t stay mad at her.

“Hey, Jake,” I reply, forcing brightness into my voice, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep and the

emotional hangover.

Daisy joins Jake, her apron already smudged with the morning’s work. “Need a coffee?” she asks, a

knowing glint in her eyes.

“Wouldn’t say no to that,” I respond with a weary chuckle.

She swiftly moves to the espresso machine, her hands practiced and sure, and within moments I’m

cradling a warm cup of comfort. The aroma alone gives me the pick-me-up I desperately need.

“Thanks, Daisy. Oh, and get a new apron from the back before customers start coming, alright?”

“Sure thing, boss!”

The warmth of my office is a welcome reprieve from the bustling chaos of the restaurant. I step inside,

immediately relishing the sense of solitude it offers.

My small haven is dimly lit, decorated with tasteful artwork and an impressive array of certificates that

vouch for my culinary skills. Yet, right now, they feel like mere props to a play that’s become all too real.

Sliding the door shut, I exhale a long, deep sigh. My feet carry me to the plush leather chair behind my

oak desk. As I sink into it, every muscle in my body seems to let go of the tension it’s been holding

onto. My temples throb, a painful reminder of the tears and restless tossing of the previous night.

Yet, there’s a silver lining to my gloomy clouds. My restaurant. My sanctuary.

mornings are special here. The windows filter in a golden hue, casting warm

wooden floors. The melodious chatter of customers combines with

ambiance that’s both lively

means brunch, an occasion that fills the restaurant with

blueberry pancakes or a hearty

a stack of paperwork—invoices, supplier orders, and the like. This

that no one ever romanticizes, but there’s a comfort in the routine of

number I check, it’s all a testament to the

My gaze flickers up to find

of annoyance bubbles up; I was

look him in the eyes, no matter how beautiful and

then I see the takeout coffee cup in his hand. “Can I come

towards the chair opposite me.

smile, he places the coffee on

glance at my almost full coffee mug, then back at him, a teasing smirk playing on my lips.

all set, but thanks.”

silent acknowledgment

after last night,” he says.

my cheeks. I don’t want to talk

about it.

in Karl’s gesture. His concern feels genuine, a

pitying glances others have been throwing my way sinceI

smile. “Just another bump

gaze softening. “True. But if you

rant, I’m here.”

soft chuckle from me. “Thanks.

hesitates for a moment, as if weighing his words.

off. “Let’s not, okay? I appreciate the concern,

got a brunch

smile. “Alright, boss lady. Let’s get to

…

kitchen, his face drawn and pale. “Abby, we’ve got a

fever.”

to be one of our busiest days of the

nightmare. “Is he okay?”

his lips. “I think so, but he didn’t

He’ll probably be

overhears, his face mirroring my concern. “What’re we gonna

We’re fully booked tonight.”

deep breath. “We

mind races, trying to figure out a solution. That’s when I spot

in his task, but he’s the only other pair of

“Karl!”

the kitchen before

you in the kitchen,” I state, my

as if hoping

I clarify. “You

warily. “Sure, but are you sure

times,” I reply with a

he’s started