Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

Chapter 41

#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.

windows filter in a golden

The melodious chatter of customers combines with the

both lively and

fills the restaurant with both families and lone diners

our famous blueberry pancakes or a hearty

of paperwork—invoices, supplier orders, and the like.

ever romanticizes, but

testament to

My gaze flickers up to find

touch of annoyance bubbles up; I was

to look him in the eyes,

cup in his

the chair opposite me.

coffee on my

coffee mug, then back at him,

all set, but thanks.”

acknowledgment of our shared moment

check on you after

my cheeks. I don’t want to talk about it.

about it.

something unexpectedly sweet in Karl’s gesture. His concern

have been throwing my way sinceI

I lie, managing a faint smile. “Just another bump in the road. We

seriousness in his gaze softening. “True. But if you ever

rant, I’m here.”

chuckle from me. “Thanks. I’ll keep

as if weighing his words. “Look, about

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

a brunch

curl into a knowing smile.

…

enters the kitchen, his face drawn and pale.

fever.”

to be one of our busiest days of the

nightmare. “Is he okay?”

shrugs, chewing his lips. “I think so, but he didn’t look good.

something. He’ll probably be out for a

his face mirroring my concern. “What’re we

We’re fully booked tonight.”

deep breath. “We adapt. That’s all

That’s when I

He’s caught up in his task, but he’s the only

“Karl!”

the

need you in the kitchen,” I state, my

as if hoping to find an

“You can

warily. “Sure, but are you

times,” I reply with

bandana he’s started wearing

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