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 looks

move, people!” I yell, and servers swoop in to whisk the dishes

not overbearing, instructing Karl on

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

so much that

listen, holding my

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

a garnish of

beams, clearly pleased

feels like a giant leap forward for both of them—and for

around each other

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

overcooked.

ticks past nine and the last few diners are

back and

the kitchen is humming with

more than just a place to eat. It’s not perfect, far from it, but it’s a step in the

of what could be rather

this time it’s me who

his eyes crinkling at the corners as he

…

frenetic energy of the kitchen into the main dining area,

the air. I’m about to congratulate myself

awkwardly behind the bar, clutching her ankle

forth.

over, my eyes

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

says, grimacing with

her flushed face, her ankle

Put that leg up. I’ll

starts to protest, her eyes filled with

you miss out on tonight, I’ll cover. Just go home and take care

yourself.”

for a moment before finally nodding, gratitude flooding her

she limps out of the restaurant,

grab a notepad, turning my attention to Daisy’s tables. And then I see

be an acquaintance of mine,

owns the place.

Here we go.

again,” I greet, forcing a smile

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

you.”

and tuck a

good things.”

their eyes tw inkling with a fakeness that makes my

“Of course,” Emily says.

get you started

cosmopolitan, and a gin and

sweetness.

up,” I reply, making a note

snippets of their conversation, laced with contempt. “Wow. Last time

was just a fluke, but she’s waiting

to run her own

the place. Probably gave it over to one of the

that, you know. Letting Alpha Karl

eyes.”

to tremble. I head into