#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 looks

servers swoop in to whisk

then, I hear John’s voice, commanding but not overbearing, instructing Karl on

balance. You want enough sauce

so much

listen, holding

John,” Karl replies, his tone earnest. He adjusts the angle of his

plate, a garnish of parsley

comments, and Karl beams, clearly pleased

like a giant leap forward for both of them—and for me. As

weave around each other in a sort of uneasy but

the meals out, and not a

overcooked.

last few diners are savoring their desserts,

back and

time in a long while, the kitchen is humming with the sort of collaborative energy

to eat. It’s not perfect, far from it, but it’s a

sign of what could be rather than what

and this time it’s me who

his eyes crinkling at the corners as

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

air. I’m about

behind the

forth.

over, my eyes

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

she says, grimacing with

take one look at her flushed face, her ankle swelling

that leg up. I’ll take over your tables

starts to protest, her eyes

on tonight,

yourself.”

nodding, gratitude flooding

she limps out of the

apron and grab a notepad, turning my attention to Daisy’s tables. And

of mine, sitting there with her

owns the place.

Here we go.

all again,” I greet, forcing a smile

isn’t Abby,” Emily says, a stiff smile taking

you.”

tuck

good things.”

tw inkling with a fakeness that makes my skin

“Of course,” Emily says.

I get you

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

sweetness.

up,” I reply, making

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

was just a fluke, but she’s

an ex-Luna doesn’t even get to run her own restaurant, but has to wait

running the place. Probably gave it over to one

know. Letting Alpha

eyes.”

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

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