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.

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

chatter of

ambiance that’s both lively and

the restaurant with both families and lone diners

blueberry pancakes or a

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

romanticizes, but

testament to the world I’ve built brick

my thoughts. My gaze flickers up to find

door. A touch of annoyance bubbles up; I was in no mood

in the eyes,

takeout coffee cup in his hand. “Can

towards the chair opposite me. “Do you need

smile, he places the coffee on my desk.

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

all set, but thanks.”

a twi nkle, a silent acknowledgment of our shared moment

on you after last night,” he says.

tinge of embarrassment floods my cheeks. I don’t want to

about it.

unexpectedly sweet in Karl’s

pitying glances others have

faint smile. “Just another

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

rant, I’m here.”

me. “Thanks. I’ll

if weighing his words. “Look,

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

got a brunch

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

…

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

fever.”

John being out on what promises to be one of

nightmare. “Is he okay?”

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

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

his face mirroring my concern.

We’re fully booked tonight.”

take a deep breath. “We adapt.

figure out a solution. That’s when I spot Karl in the

the only other pair of hands I can

“Karl!”

jerks up, eyes scanning the kitchen before settling on

you in the kitchen,” I state, my tone allowing no room

around, as if hoping to

I clarify. “You can

“Sure, but are

reply with a

he’s started wearing when doing his tasks.