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.

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

melodious chatter of customers combines

ambiance that’s both lively

fills the restaurant with both families and

famous blueberry

paperwork—invoices, supplier

one ever romanticizes, but there’s

I check, it’s all a testament to the

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

touch of annoyance bubbles up; I was in

want to look him in the eyes, no matter how beautiful

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

gesture towards the chair opposite

he places the coffee on my desk. “Thought you might

at him, a teasing smirk playing on my lips. “Seems

all set, but thanks.”

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

after last night,” he says.

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

about it.

in Karl’s gesture. His concern feels genuine,

others have been throwing my way sinceI got

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

“True. But

rant, I’m here.”

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

a moment, as if weighing his

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

brunch crowd to

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

…

and pale.

fever.”

what promises to be one of our busiest days of

nightmare. “Is he okay?”

“I think so, but he didn’t look

or something. He’ll probably be

my other line cooks, overhears, his face mirroring my concern.

We’re fully booked tonight.”

take a deep breath. “We adapt. That’s all we

figure out a solution. That’s when I spot Karl in the corner, working away at

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

“Karl!”

the

the kitchen,” I state, my tone allowing

as if hoping to find

“You

nods slowly, almost warily. “Sure, but

I reply

breath, adjusting the bandana he’s started wearing