Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 53: A Mess To Clean
Abby

The sun’s barely peeking over the h o rizon as I pull open the door to the restaurant.

I can already feel the hustle of a new day, the potential for a fresh start. Walking in, I expect the familiar

comfort of an empty space, but I’m met instead with Ethan’s brooding form. His jaw is set tight, his

brow furrowed.

He doesn’t look up as I approach.

“Morning,” I greet cautiously, sensing the tension in the air.

He sighs heavily. “Abby… What the hell happened here last night?”

Confused, I follow his gaze. The kitchen. Oh no. My heart ski ps a beat as memories of last night flood

back. The cooking. The laughter. The… moment with Karl.

“What do you mean?” I manage to ask, feigning ignorance.

Ethan’s eyes fix on me, and I can see his irritation. “I’ll show you.” Without waiting for a reply, he leads

me into the disaster zone that is the kitchen.

Every counter is smeared with remnants of our late-night feast. Pots and pans are sc at tered

everywhere, some still containing leftover food. The sight makes my stomach churn with guilt. How

could I have been so careless?

I feel the heat rise to my cheeks. “I… I was working late last night. Got hungry and…” I trail off, trying to

find a good excuse, but words fail me.

Ethan just raises an eyebrow, his expression demanding more.

“And… I forgot to clean up,” I finish lamely, avoiding his gaze.

A beat of silence. Then, “Forgot?” His tone is sharp, filled with disbelief.

My mind races. If he even catches a hint of what transpired with Karl, rumors would spread like wildfire,

jeopardizing not only my reputation but potentially the restaurant’s as well.

“I was exhausted,” I murmur.

His eyes scan the kitchen, lingering on a particular spot on the counter, and my heart races. That’s

I… No. I shake my head m entally.

roll up my sleeves. “I’ll

anger simmering down to annoyance. “Just… be

I think grimly. But all I say is, “I promise.”

the mess—both the literal one in the kitchen

scrub the counters, my mind

To Karl.

every dish I wash, feels like an echo of

his laughter, the

I need to stop this. Last night was a mistake. An indiscretion borne out of

happened. I shouldn’t be thinking about him

to erase not just the stains of food but the remnants

confusion. The longing.

pass as I’m lost in my thoughts, cleaning

done, the kitchen is spotless—gleaming counters and organized tools. I wish it was as

sort out my emotions.

the counter, the same one where Karl and I shared that moment, and close

is still fresh, the feelings raw. But this is

push away from the counter, reminding myself of my responsibilities, the

the promises

is a new day, and I need to focus on the present, not get lost in the memories of last

…

half-drawn blinds, casting soft golden beams

a particular rhythm to the

of activity outside my office gently soothes my

there’s a knock, crisp and

expecting to see Ethan or even

door swings open to reveal a tall, commanding figure

sharp charcoal suit, with an air of unquestionable

mine. He extends a hand, introducing himself. “You’re Abby,

restaurant?”

my brow. I wasn’t expecting any health inspectors today. “Yes,”

man smiles. “I’m

greet him, I shake his offered hand,

don’t believe we had an

represent the

your restaurant has garnered

gathering. It’s where deals are struck and alliances formed,

meals and

I promised to go on that date with

mind races, trying to grasp why a representative from the

modest office.

tone steady, “Among countless establishments in

the four finalists we’re considering to cater for our