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

John’s voice, commanding but not overbearing, instructing Karl on the proper way

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

much

listen, holding

tone earnest. He adjusts the angle of his

on the plate, a garnish of parsley providing the

comments, and Karl beams, clearly pleased by the

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

on, I watch Karl and John weave around each other

working together to get the meals out, and not a

overcooked.

the last few

back and take

the kitchen is

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

a sign of what could be

and this

eyes crinkling at the corners

…

the kitchen into the main dining area, the clinking of glasses

I’m about to congratulate myself on a night going

the bar, clutching her

forth.

happened?” I rush over, my eyes

my ankle while serving table nine. Just give me five

says, grimacing

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

home. Put that leg up. I’ll take over your tables

protest, her eyes filled with worry.

worry about that. Whatever tips you miss out on tonight, I’ll cover. Just go home

yourself.”

for a moment before finally nodding, gratitude flooding her features.

as she limps out of the restaurant,

tie on an apron and grab a notepad, turning my attention

an acquaintance of mine,

owns the place.

Here we go.

again,” I greet, forcing a smile

Abby,” Emily says, a stiff smile taking over her features. “We

you.”

equally stiff smile and tuck a strand of hair behind my

good things.”

their eyes tw inkling with a

“Of course,” Emily says.

I get you started

and tonic,” Emily says, her tone

sweetness.

up,” I reply, making a note

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

just a fluke, but she’s waiting

run her own restaurant, but has to wait tables

place. Probably gave

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

eyes.”

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