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.

special here. The windows filter in a golden

floors. The melodious chatter of customers combines with the clink

that’s both

brunch, an occasion that fills the

our famous blueberry pancakes or a

a stack of paperwork—invoices, supplier

ever romanticizes, but there’s a comfort in the routine of

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

My gaze flickers up to find Karl’s familiar

of annoyance bubbles up; I

I don’t want to look him in the eyes, no matter how beautiful and chocolatey they

cup in his hand. “Can I

towards the chair opposite

slight smile, he places the coffee on my desk. “Thought you

at my almost full coffee mug, then back at

all set, but thanks.”

hold a twi nkle, a silent acknowledgment of our shared

to check on you after last

tinge of embarrassment floods my cheeks. I don’t want to talk about it. Hell,

about it.

unexpectedly sweet in Karl’s gesture. His

others have been throwing my way

managing a faint smile. “Just another bump in the road. We all

“True. But if you ever

rant, I’m here.”

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

if weighing his

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

brunch

curl into a knowing smile. “Alright, boss lady.

…

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

fever.”

out on what promises to be one of our busiest days of the week is

nightmare. “Is he okay?”

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

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

line cooks, overhears, his face

We’re fully booked tonight.”

deep breath. “We adapt.

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

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

“Karl!”

the kitchen before settling on

the kitchen,” I state, my

as if hoping to find an escape route.

“You

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

I reply with

takes a deep breath, adjusting the bandana he’s started wearing when doing his tasks. He’s