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 looks

I yell, and servers

but not

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

so much

pause to listen, holding

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

plate, a garnish of

comments, and Karl beams, clearly pleased by the rare

a giant leap forward for both of them—and

around each other in a

working together to get the meals out,

overcooked.

the last few diners are savoring their desserts, I

and

long while, the kitchen is humming with the sort of

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

what could be rather than

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

the corners

…

kitchen into the main dining

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

spot Daisy seated awkwardly behind the bar,

forth.

over, my eyes

table nine. Just

says, grimacing with each

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

home. Put that leg up.

eyes filled with worry. “But

Whatever tips you miss out on

yourself.”

before finally nodding, gratitude flooding

as she limps out of the restaurant, supported

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

mine, sitting

owns the place.

Here we go.

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

says, a stiff smile taking

you.”

an equally stiff smile and tuck a strand of

good things.”

their eyes tw inkling with a

“Of course,” Emily says.

get you

a cosmopolitan, and a gin and

sweetness.

I reply, making a note

catch snippets of their conversation, laced with contempt.

a fluke, but she’s waiting

run her own restaurant, but

place. Probably gave it over to one of the

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

eyes.”

to their words, my hands start to tremble. I