#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

my head m

my sleeves. “I’ll clean

annoyance. “Just… be more careful, Abby.

But all

he walks away, I’m left with the mess—both the literal one in the kitchen and the tangled one in

mind can’t help but drift

To Karl.

I wash, feels like an echo

his laughter, the touch of

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

I shouldn’t be thinking about him

scrub, the more I try to erase not just the stains of food but the

The longing. The

I’m lost in my thoughts, cleaning up my

I’m done, the kitchen is spotless—gleaming counters and organized tools. I

sort out my emotions.

lean against the counter, the same one where Karl and I shared

this is

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

restaurant, and the promises I made to

on

the half-drawn blinds, casting soft

a particular rhythm to the mornings here,

office gently soothes my usually anxious

knock, crisp

call out, expecting to see

door swings open to reveal a tall, commanding figure that I

suit, with an air of

hand, introducing himself. “You’re Abby, correct?” he asks. “The owner

restaurant?”

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

man smiles. “I’m

hand, slightly taken aback

we had an appointment. How can I

he begins, “I represent the Alpha Gathering Committee. I understand

a surprise, but your restaurant

gathering. It’s where deals

meals and

that date

representative from

modest office.

continues, his tone steady, “Among countless establishments in

the four finalists we’re considering to cater for

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