Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 56: Pity Party
The restaurant buzzes with an energy that I haven’t felt in a long while. Streamers hang from the

ceiling, twi nkling fairy lights wrap around the bar, and the laughter of friends and colleagues fills the air.

Tonight is more than just another party; it’s a celebration of someone I hold dear, and I can’t help but

get swept up in the excitement.

“So,” Ethan says as we complete the finishing touches on some balloons. Leah is on her way with

Chloe, who thinks that it’s just going to be the three of us girls going out for drinks. She has no idea.

“You hear anything yet about the cook-off?”

Instinctively, I lower my voice and shoot Ethan a wary look. Karl is floating around here somewhere,

and I haven’t mentioned the cook-off to him yet.

I’m not entirely sure why, other than the fact that I did promise that I would go to the Alpha party with

him, and potentially catering it would get in the way of that.

“Not yet,” I answer as I tie an intricate knot on one of the bundles of balloons. “Still waiting to get the

details.”

“Well, either way, I’m excited for you,” Ethan says gently. His leg seems to be hurting him, and he takes

a moment to lean on the bar. “If you need any help, let me know.”

I can’t help but smile. Ethan has always been one of my most faithful employees, and I’m glad to have

made him the new restaurant manager. He deserves it.

“Thanks, Ethan.”

Just then, a voice cuts through the room.

“Everyone get ready! Chloe is coming!”

In an instant, the room falls into a hush. People dart behind tables, the lights go off, and Ethan and I

duck down behind the bar with smirks on our faces. I can hear the sound of the door opening, followed

by Chloe’s confused voice.

“What the hell? Why is it so dark in here?”

The lights flick on. Everyone jumps out from their hiding places, yelling “Surprise!” at the top of our

lungs. Chloe gasps and claps her hand over her mouth.

“You guys!” she shrieks, spotting me and closing the distance between us to throw her arms around my

neck. “This is so nice!”

“It’s the least we could do,” I say into her ear, hugging her tight. “Happy birthday, Chlo.”

…

floats around, chatting with everyone. Her joy

her this happy makes every ounce of effort worth

survey the room from behind the bar, a contented smile tugging at my lips. But

my eyes catch a

leans against the far wall, nursing his drink. Our

and a mixture of

delicious food wafts through the air as waiters begin to bring out

mouthwatering dishes: lobster tails, crab cakes, rice

the table, Chloe’s eyes light up like a kid on Christmas morning. She

and squeals with

Abby, you made

chef aims to please,” I reply, sharing a knowing smile

stands up, raising her glass. “I just want to say,

she scans the room, locking eyes with each of us,

friendship and fabulous

and for a moment,

Chloe declares, her eyes scanning the room. “I want a

it, trying to find the perfect

a glass, angling

a few failed attempts—it slips, tips over, or just gives a

work, is it?” Chloe notes,

Karl, who’s leaning against the

Karl.”

taking another sip of

the picture

demanding, as though daring him not to take the photo, or

weird tension fills the air for a split second,

over a captivated audience.

a little animosity, a subtle standoff between Chloe and Karl that

me uneasy.

in the picture,” I start to say, not wanting Karl

of this

as if he reads my thoughts. His face softens,

worries. I’d be happy to

a collective sense of relief

around!” Chloe announces,

crew of chefs, servers, friends, and family,

through the thread of this very

phone, getting into position. “Ready?

smiles, joy, and a room

handing the phone

through the pictures. They’re perfect, capturing the essence of

frozen

I think

my side, just like old days. I push the thought away, though, and offer Karl a

tone casual but carrying a depth

moves back to his original spot, my heart twinges with a

to be a part of this moment

the same time, I can’t shake the feeling that he

part of this memory we’ve