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

voice, commanding but not overbearing, instructing Karl

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

much

to listen,

tone earnest. He adjusts the angle of

garnish of parsley providing

and Karl beams, clearly pleased

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

weave around each other in a sort of uneasy but

get the meals out,

overcooked.

the last

step back and take it

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

place to eat. It’s not perfect,

sign of what could be rather than what has

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

crinkling at the corners as he allows

…

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

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

Daisy seated awkwardly behind the bar, clutching

forth.

happened?” I rush over, my eyes

my ankle while serving table nine. Just give me

grimacing with each

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

up. I’ll take

eyes filled with worry. “But

worry about that. Whatever tips you miss out on tonight,

yourself.”

moment before finally nodding,

I say as she limps out

turning my attention to Daisy’s tables. And then

mine, sitting there

owns the place.

Here we go.

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

stiff smile taking over

you.”

and tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Hopefully

good things.”

glances, their eyes tw inkling with a fakeness that makes my

“Of course,” Emily says.

you started with

a gin and

sweetness.

making a note on

move away, my ears catch snippets of their conversation, laced

it was just a fluke, but she’s waiting

run her own restaurant, but has to

can’t handle running the place.

you know. Letting Alpha Karl

eyes.”

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