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.

cut straight to the chase, my eyes

running his fingers through his hair. “Look, Abby,

can get downright belligerent when

over my chest, feeling a mixture

an Alpha, and there’s no doubt about it. But it doesn’t

be badmouthed when he’s

been with this restaurant since we opened,” I say gently. “You

they’re not here to defend themselves.

this establishment.”

at my words. “I

better not,” I reply, my voice firm. “I

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

everyone else. Got

I’ll make

do something about Karl. He’s

a sigh, already wondering how to broach the

sort out any issues you have with Karl when he’s present.

his voice tinged with

go,” I say, gesturing to the door.

alone with my thoughts.

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 in

and right now, we’re on the

dissonance.

concerns, even if I don’t appreciate the way he’s expressed them.

to fit into our tightly

willing to learn, two qualities that can’t

from the desk, a heavy sigh escaping my lips. The confined space of my office

air thick with unresolved tension. Deciding I need a break from this

walk out into the bustling

of chatter and clinking dishes serves as a momentary

of tables and servers, I find Ethan by

to be

effortless.

got a minute?”

he replies, looking up

I say, gesturing toward the

on the end

sliding over a bunch of cloth

help but feel a bit more grounded. There’s

repetitive action, a contrast to