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.

windows filter in a golden hue, casting warm

The melodious chatter of customers combines with the clink of

that’s both

occasion that fills the restaurant

blueberry pancakes or a

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

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

I sign, every number I check, it’s all a testament to the world I’ve built brick by brick,

gaze flickers up to

up; I was in no mood for interruptions. And after

in the eyes, no matter how beautiful and

coffee cup in his hand. “Can I come in?” he

chair opposite me. “Do

coffee on my desk. “Thought

almost full coffee mug, then back at him,

all set, but thanks.”

silent acknowledgment of our shared moment in my apartment

to check on you after last night,” he

want to talk about it.

about it.

sweet in Karl’s gesture. His concern feels

others have been throwing

faint smile. “Just

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

rant, I’m here.”

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

as if weighing his

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

got a brunch crowd

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

…

face drawn and pale. “Abby, we’ve got a problem. John’s down with

fever.”

to be one of our busiest days of the

nightmare. “Is he okay?”

but he

something. He’ll probably be out for a few days

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

We’re fully booked tonight.”

take a deep breath. “We

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

task, but he’s the only other pair

“Karl!”

eyes scanning the

state, my tone allowing

if hoping to find

I clarify. “You can

“Sure,

I reply with

he’s started wearing when doing his tasks.