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

everything

servers swoop in

hear John’s voice, commanding but not

“Remember, Karl, it’s all about balance. You want enough sauce so it’s flavorful

much

to listen, holding

it, John,” Karl replies, his tone earnest. He adjusts

plate, a garnish of

John comments, and Karl beams,

small interaction, but it feels like a giant leap forward

Karl and John weave around each

communicating, working together to get the meals out, and not a single

overcooked.

past nine and the last few diners are savoring their desserts, I take

back and take it

the first time in a long while, the kitchen is

a restaurant more than just a place to eat. It’s not perfect,

sign of what could

and this time it’s me who gives the

at the corners as he allows himself

…

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

I’m about to congratulate myself

when I spot Daisy seated awkwardly behind the bar,

forth.

happened?” I rush over, my eyes

I rolled my ankle while serving table nine. Just give

says, grimacing

look at her flushed face, her ankle swelling before my eyes, and shake my head. “No,

leg up. I’ll

to protest, her eyes filled with worry. “But

on tonight, I’ll cover.

yourself.”

a moment before finally nodding, gratitude flooding her features. “Thank

as she limps out of the restaurant, supported by

an apron and grab a notepad, turning my attention

of mine,

owns the place.

Here we go.

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

well! If it isn’t Abby,” Emily says, a stiff smile taking over her features.

you.”

tuck a strand

good things.”

her friends exchange glances, their eyes tw inkling with a fakeness that makes

“Of course,” Emily says.

I get you

red wines, a cosmopolitan, and a gin and

sweetness.

right up,” I reply, making a note on

move away, my ears catch snippets of their conversation,

fluke, but she’s waiting tables

to run

giggle. “Maybe she can’t handle running the place. Probably gave it over to one of the

Letting Alpha

eyes.”

I listen to their words, my hands start to tremble. I head into the back room to catch