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

commanding but not overbearing, instructing Karl on the proper way

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

much that it’s

listen, holding my

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

the plate, a garnish of parsley providing the finishing

beams, clearly pleased by the rare

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

on, I watch Karl and John weave around each other

the meals out, and not a single

overcooked.

and the last few diners

and

first time in a long while, the kitchen is

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

what could be rather than

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

eyes crinkling at the corners

…

the kitchen into the main

I’m about to congratulate

awkwardly behind the bar, clutching her ankle and rocking back

forth.

rush over, my eyes

nine.

grimacing with

face, her ankle

Put that leg up. I’ll take over your

starts to protest, her eyes

you miss out on tonight,

yourself.”

for a moment before finally nodding, gratitude

say as she limps out

an apron and grab a notepad, turning my attention to Daisy’s tables. And

an acquaintance of mine,

owns the place.

Here we go.

you all again,” I greet, forcing a

Emily says, a stiff smile taking

you.”

smile and tuck a strand

good things.”

their eyes tw inkling with a fakeness that makes my

“Of course,” Emily says.

I get you started with

red wines, a cosmopolitan, and a gin and tonic,”

sweetness.

I reply, making a note on

I move away, my ears catch snippets of their

it was just a fluke, but she’s waiting tables

ex-Luna doesn’t even get to run her own restaurant, but has to wait tables

“Maybe she can’t handle running the place. Probably gave it over to one of the

Letting

eyes.”

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