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 to whisk

commanding but not overbearing, instructing

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

much

to listen, holding my

his tone earnest. He adjusts the angle of his tongs and

garnish of parsley

beams, clearly pleased by the

interaction, but it feels like a giant leap forward for both of them—and for

around each other in

get the meals out, and not a single steak comes

overcooked.

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

and take it all

kitchen is

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

a sign of what could be rather than what has

my eye from across the kitchen, and this time it’s me who

his eyes crinkling at the corners as he allows himself a

…

kitchen into the main dining

about

behind the bar, clutching

forth.

over, my eyes narrowing

nine. Just

says, grimacing with each

ankle swelling before my

home. Put that leg up. I’ll take

her eyes

you miss out on

yourself.”

hesitates for a moment before finally nodding, gratitude flooding her

I say as she limps out of the restaurant,

grab a notepad, turning my attention to Daisy’s

an acquaintance of mine, sitting there

owns the place.

Here we go.

you all again,” I greet,

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

you.”

stiff smile and tuck a strand of

good things.”

friends exchange glances, their eyes tw inkling with

“Of course,” Emily says.

you started

wines, a cosmopolitan, and a gin and

sweetness.

right up,” I reply, making a note on

catch snippets of their conversation, laced

just a fluke, but

to run her own restaurant, but has

giggle. “Maybe she can’t handle running the place. Probably

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

eyes.”

start to tremble. I