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.

filter in a

wooden floors. The melodious chatter of customers combines with the clink of cutlery,

that’s both lively and

an occasion that fills the restaurant with both families and lone

blueberry pancakes

drawer, I retrieve a stack of paperwork—invoices, supplier orders, and the

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

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

knock interrupts my thoughts. My gaze flickers up to find Karl’s familiar

ajar door. A touch of annoyance bubbles up; I was

in the eyes, no matter how beautiful

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

chair opposite me. “Do you

coffee on my desk.

coffee mug, then back at

all set, but thanks.”

a silent acknowledgment of our shared moment

you after last night,” he

want to talk about it.

about it.

there’s something unexpectedly sweet in Karl’s gesture. His

to the pitying glances others have

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

the seriousness in his gaze softening. “True. But if

rant, I’m here.”

soft chuckle from me. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in

if weighing

“Let’s not, okay? I appreciate the concern, but I’d rather

a brunch crowd to

a knowing smile. “Alright, boss lady. Let’s get

…

pale. “Abby, we’ve got a problem.

fever.”

heart sinks. John being out on what promises to be one of

nightmare. “Is he okay?”

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

He’ll probably be out for a

my other line cooks, overhears, his face mirroring my concern. “What’re we

We’re fully booked tonight.”

deep breath. “We adapt. That’s all we can

solution. That’s when I spot Karl in the

but he’s the only

“Karl!”

jerks up, eyes scanning the kitchen

you in the kitchen,” I state, my

looks around, as if hoping to find an escape route.

clarify. “You can chop,

warily. “Sure, but are you

I reply with a

deep breath, adjusting the bandana he’s started wearing when doing his tasks.