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

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

but not overbearing, instructing Karl on the proper

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

much

pause to listen, holding

replies, his tone earnest. He adjusts the angle of his tongs

garnish of parsley providing

beams, clearly pleased by the rare

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

I watch Karl and John weave around each other in a sort of uneasy

meals out, and not a single

overcooked.

and the last few diners are

back and

first time in a long while, the kitchen is

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

could be rather

the kitchen, and this time it’s me who gives

crinkling at the corners as he allows himself a

…

out from the frenetic energy of the kitchen into

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

when I spot Daisy seated awkwardly behind the bar, clutching her ankle and

forth.

I rush over, my eyes narrowing with

my ankle while serving table nine. Just give me five minutes and I’ll get back

grimacing with

at her flushed face, her ankle swelling before my eyes, and shake

Put that leg up. I’ll take over your

to protest, her eyes filled with worry.

on

yourself.”

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

say as she limps out of the restaurant, supported

and grab a notepad, turning my attention to Daisy’s

of mine, sitting

owns the place.

Here we go.

you all again,” I greet, forcing a smile

says, a stiff smile

you.”

you?” I manage an equally stiff smile and tuck a strand of hair behind my

good things.”

their eyes tw inkling with a fakeness that makes

“Of course,” Emily says.

I get you

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

sweetness.

I reply, making a

of their

a fluke, but she’s

run her own restaurant, but

place. Probably gave

know. Letting Alpha Karl run everything, always

eyes.”

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