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.

mornings are special here. The windows filter in a golden

wooden floors. The melodious chatter of

both lively and

the restaurant with both

our famous blueberry pancakes or

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

of the job that no one ever romanticizes, but

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

thoughts. My gaze flickers up to

annoyance bubbles up; I was in no mood for interruptions. And

to look him in the eyes, no

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

the chair opposite me. “Do you need

a slight smile, he places the coffee on my desk.

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

all set, but thanks.”

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

wanted to check on you after last night,” he says. “I’m…

don’t want to talk about it. Hell,

about it.

something unexpectedly sweet in Karl’s

have been throwing

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

his gaze softening. “True. But if you ever need to talk or…

rant, I’m here.”

me. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in

hesitates for a moment, as if weighing his words. “Look,

okay? I appreciate the concern, but I’d

got a brunch

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

…

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

fever.”

promises to be one of our busiest days

nightmare. “Is he okay?”

think so, but he didn’t look

food poisoning or something. He’ll probably be out for a

his face

We’re fully booked tonight.”

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

when I spot Karl

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

“Karl!”

up, eyes scanning the kitchen before settling on

kitchen,” I state,

looks around, as if hoping to find an escape

I clarify. “You can

nods slowly, almost warily. “Sure,

reply

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