Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 60: Harmony
I’m standing over a steaming pot of ragù, stirring as I listen to the sizzle and pop of ingredients melding

together in culinary harmony.

The kitchen is a whirlwind of activity, the dinner rush in full swing. But amidst the orchestrated chaos, a

discordant note strikes my ears. It’s John, my head chef, talking to another member of the kitchen staff.

“The guy just can’t get it together,” John grumbles. “It’s like he’s deficient or something. Honestly, why

Abby even hired him of all people is beyond me.”

I immediately recognize that he’s talking about Karl. I would normally be bothered by this sort of talk to

people’s faces, but today is Karl’s day off, which makes the conversation even more inappropriate.

And despite what I think about Karl, it’s not cool to be talking behind a coworker’s back. Especially not

in my kitchen, where I value respect.

“I swear,” John continues, oblivious to the fact that I can hear him, “he’s a downright jackass. And he

can’t follow directions to save his life. Hell, my kid was watching that one movie the other night, what’s

it called… Alice in Wonderland. He reminds me of Tweedledee. Now all we need is a Tweedledum.”

John bursts out into laughter, clearly amused by his own jokes. No one else laughs; maybe because

they’ve realized that I’m right here, listening to every word.

I’m well aware that Karl is still new to the restaurant business, still trying to acclimate to the hierarchy

and flow of the kitchen. But we all started somewhere, and the last thing he—or any of us—needs is a

colleague undermining him behind his back.

With a sigh, I delegate the sauce to someone else and wipe my hands on a kitchen towel.

“John, could you come into my office for a moment?”

His face pales a fraction, as if he knows he’s been caught. “Erm… Sure, Abby,” he responds, his voice

edged with trepidation.

Once we’re behind the closed door of my office, I sink into my chair. I watch John as he hesitates,

clearly uncomfortable, before taking the seat across from me.

Karl?” I cut straight to the chase, my

sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “Look, Abby, he makes a lot

belligerent when anyone tries

my arms over my chest, feeling a mixture of frustration and disappointment. John

it firsthand. Hell, I’ve lived it. Karl is an Alpha, and there’s no doubt about it. But

should be badmouthed when he’s not even

restaurant since we opened,” I say gently. “You know better than

coworker when they’re not here to defend themselves. That’s not how we

this establishment.”

seems to flinch at my words. “I

I reply, my voice firm. “I don’t want you making a bad impression

restaurants where it’s a free-for-all. Everyone

everyone else. Got

get it, Abby. I do. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.

gotta do something about Karl. He’s not exactly

how to

ground. “We’ll sort out any issues you have with Karl when

replies, his

can go,” I say, gesturing to the door. He nods, stands up, and

alone with my thoughts.

my chair, my mind racing. The atmosphere in the restaurant, especially the kitchen, is

a finely tuned instrument.

individual, from the dishwasher to the head chef, plays an important role. Disharmony

composition, and right now, we’re on the cusp of some

dissonance.

I don’t appreciate the way he’s expressed them. Karl

fit into our tightly knit

to learn, two qualities that

a heavy sigh escaping my lips.

the air thick with unresolved tension. Deciding I

and walk out

lively hum of chatter and clinking dishes serves as a momentary

the maze of tables and servers, I

As always, he seems to

effortless.

minute?” I ask, forcing a

What’s up?” he replies,

I say, gesturing toward

on the end of the

a bunch of cloth

we start rolling silverware, I can’t help but feel a bit

simple, repetitive action, a contrast to