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

fingers through his hair. “Look, Abby, he makes a lot of mistakes. He’s s

can get downright belligerent when

feeling a mixture of frustration and disappointment.

an Alpha, and there’s no

he’s not even

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

not here to defend themselves.

this establishment.”

at my words. “I understand that, Abby. It won’t

voice firm. “I don’t want you making a bad impression on the

isn’t one of those restaurants where it’s a free-for-all. Everyone needs

else.

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

something about Karl.

know,” I say with a sigh, already wondering how to broach the subject with Karl when

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

replies, his

the door. He nods, stands up,

alone with my thoughts.

lean back in my chair, my mind racing. The atmosphere in the restaurant,

a finely tuned instrument.

head chef, plays an important role. Disharmony in

the entire composition, and right now,

dissonance.

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

in the culinary arts, and struggling to fit into our tightly knit team. But he’s also

willing to learn, two qualities that can’t

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

the air thick with unresolved tension. Deciding I

walk out into the

lively hum of chatter and clinking dishes serves as a momentary distraction from

Navigating my way through the maze of tables and servers, I find Ethan by the

to be in his element,

effortless.

minute?” I

What’s up?” he replies, looking up and

if I help with the silverware?” I say, gesturing toward the pile of spoons, knives, and forks that

on the end of

sliding over a bunch of

but feel a bit more grounded. There’s something

simple, repetitive action, a contrast to the complicated