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

melodious chatter of customers combines with the clink of

ambiance that’s both

occasion that fills the restaurant with both families and lone diners

blueberry pancakes or

drawer, I retrieve a stack of paperwork—invoices, supplier orders, and the

that no one ever romanticizes, but there’s a comfort in the routine of it.

all a testament to the world I’ve built brick

My gaze flickers up to find

ajar door. A touch of annoyance bubbles up; I was in

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

the takeout coffee cup in his

chair opposite me. “Do you need

places the coffee on my

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

all set, but thanks.”

silent acknowledgment of our shared moment in my

on you after last night,” he says.

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

about it.

in Karl’s gesture. His concern

pitying glances others have been throwing my

managing a faint smile. “Just

softening. “True. But if you ever need to talk or… well,

rant, I’m here.”

from me. “Thanks. I’ll keep that

a moment, as if weighing his words.

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

got a brunch crowd

smile. “Alright,

…

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

fever.”

to be one of our busiest

nightmare. “Is he okay?”

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

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

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

We’re fully booked tonight.”

“We

That’s when

he’s the only other pair

“Karl!”

head jerks up, eyes scanning the kitchen before settling on me.

kitchen,” I state, my

around, as if hoping to find an escape

clarify. “You can

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

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the bandana he’s started wearing when doing