#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

let’s move, people!” I yell, and servers swoop in

voice, commanding but not

it’s all about balance. You want enough sauce

much that

to listen,

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

on the plate, a garnish of

beams, clearly pleased by the

giant leap forward

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

meals out, and not

overcooked.

the last few diners are savoring their desserts, I

and take

the kitchen

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

what could

across the kitchen, and this

back, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he allows himself a small

kitchen into the main dining area, the clinking

about to congratulate myself on a night going

awkwardly behind the bar, clutching her ankle

forth.

over, my eyes narrowing

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

she says, grimacing with each

look at her flushed face, her ankle swelling before my

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

to protest, her eyes filled

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

yourself.”

nodding, gratitude flooding her

as she limps out of the

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

mine, sitting there

owns the place.

Here we go.

all again,” I greet, forcing a smile as I approach the

a stiff smile taking over her features. “We

you.”

and tuck a

good things.”

her friends exchange glances, their eyes tw inkling with a fakeness that makes

“Of course,” Emily says.

you started with

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

sweetness.

up,” I reply, making a note on

move away, my ears catch snippets of their

a fluke, but

an ex-Luna doesn’t even get to run

running the place.

that, you know. Letting Alpha Karl run everything, always giving him

eyes.”

tremble. I head into

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