Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 65: Apologies
The aroma of freshly baked bread and simmering tomato sauce fills the air as I sit at my desk,

reviewing the inventory for the week.

It’s still early in the day, but the restaurant has already started to come alive. My eyes flit over numbers

and figures, but my thoughts keep drifting to the chaos of last night—Karl, John, Ethan, and that cook-

off looming in the future like a beacon of both opportunity and uncertainty.

As I’m about to turn my attention to the newly arrived email from Calvin, there’s a soft knock on my

door. “Come in,” I call out, hoping it’s not another crisis that needs immediate attention.

The door opens, and it’s John, looking a little sheepish. “Hey, Abby, you got a minute?”

I nod, gesturing for him to take a seat. “Sure, what’s on your mind?”

He hesitates, choosing his words carefully. “Look, about last night—I lost my cool, and I shouldn’t have

said what I did. I was…riled up, and I didn’t mean it. It was a long evening.”

I eye him skeptically, remembering his cutting remarks and confrontational demeanor. “You think?”

He winces. “I do. And I’m sorry. If you’re willing to forgive an old dog for his foolishness, I promise I’ll

train Karl properly and be more respectful. To everyone.”

The sincerity in his voice tips the balance for me. We’ve been through a lot, John and I, and though

he’s far from perfect, he’s an important part of this restaurant’s soul.

“Alright,” I say, extending my hand across the desk. “Apology accepted. Let’s move on and make this a

great place for everyone. Deal?”

“Deal,” he agrees, shaking my hand firmly.

“Great. Let’s get back out there; dinner service won’t prep itself,” I say, and we both stand to head back

to the kitchen.

As the door swings shut behind him, I can’t help but feel a small sense of relief. One hurdle cleared, but

still so many more to go.

…

The evening begins like any other, the staff bustling around the kitchen as orders start pouring in.

But there’s a palpable change in the atmosphere. John’s tone is softer, more instructive, less caustic. I

see him explaining the finer points of sauce reduction to Karl, who listens intently. My eyes meet John’s

for a moment, and he gives me a nod.

The dinner rush kicks in, and everyone springs into high gear. Plates are flying, stoves are blazing, and

the air is thick with the tantalizing smells of grilled meat, sautéed vegetables, and melting cheese.

But despite the chaos, there’s an underlying current of teamwork that wasn’t there before.

“Table six is ready to go, Abby,” Ethan calls out, sliding the plates onto the counter. I do a quick check

presentation; everything looks

I yell, and servers swoop in to

commanding but not overbearing, instructing

linguini. “Remember, Karl, it’s all about balance. You want enough

much that it’s

to listen, holding my

replies, his tone earnest. He adjusts the angle

a garnish of parsley providing

beams, clearly pleased by

a giant leap forward for both of

watch Karl and John weave around each

together to get the meals out,

overcooked.

the clock ticks past nine and the last few diners are savoring their

step back and

kitchen is humming with

eat. It’s not perfect, far from it,

could

kitchen, and this time it’s me

his eyes crinkling at the corners as he allows himself a small

…

out from the frenetic energy of the kitchen into the main dining area, the clinking of glasses

air. I’m about to congratulate myself on a night going

the bar, clutching her ankle and rocking back

forth.

happened?” I rush over, my eyes narrowing with

table nine. Just give me five minutes and I’ll get back

says, grimacing with each

her ankle swelling before my eyes, and shake my head.

Put that leg up. I’ll take

to protest, her eyes filled with worry.

that. Whatever tips you miss out on tonight, I’ll cover. Just go

yourself.”

a moment before finally nodding, gratitude flooding her

limps out of the

and grab a notepad, turning

who used to be an acquaintance of mine, sitting there with her

owns the place.

Here we go.

see you all again,” I greet, forcing a smile as

says, a stiff smile taking over her features. “We were

you.”

tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

good things.”

exchange glances, their eyes tw inkling with a fakeness

“Of course,” Emily says.

you started with some

wines, a cosmopolitan, and a gin and tonic,” Emily says, her tone

sweetness.

making a note

I move away, my ears catch snippets of their conversation, laced with contempt. “Wow.

a fluke, but she’s waiting

to run her

can’t handle running the place. Probably gave it over

like that, you know. Letting Alpha Karl run everything, always giving

eyes.”

my hands start to tremble. I head into the back room