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 golden hue, casting warm patches of

of customers combines with the clink of cutlery,

both

that fills the restaurant with both

our famous blueberry pancakes or a hearty

paperwork—invoices, supplier orders, and the

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

check, it’s all a testament to the world I’ve built brick

My gaze flickers

annoyance bubbles up; I was

I don’t want to look him in the eyes, no matter

coffee cup in his hand.

towards the chair opposite me. “Do you

the coffee on my desk. “Thought you

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

all set, but thanks.”

hold a twi nkle, a silent acknowledgment of our shared moment in my apartment last

on you after

to talk about it. Hell, I don’t even want to

about it.

in Karl’s gesture. His concern

to the pitying glances others have been throwing my way sinceI got

Karl,” I lie, managing a faint smile. “Just another bump in

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

rant, I’m here.”

from me. “Thanks. I’ll keep

hesitates for a moment, as if

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

brunch crowd

curl into a knowing smile. “Alright,

…

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

fever.”

what promises to be one of our

nightmare. “Is he okay?”

“I think so, but he didn’t look good. Said he’s been

He’ll probably be out

of my other line cooks, overhears, his face mirroring my

We’re fully booked tonight.”

take a deep breath. “We adapt.

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

He’s caught up in his task, but he’s the only other pair of hands I can

“Karl!”

head jerks up, eyes scanning the kitchen

the kitchen,” I state, my tone allowing

hoping to find an

clarify. “You can chop,

nods slowly, almost warily. “Sure, but are you

I reply

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