Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 66: Practice Makes Perfect
Abby

My office is silent as I scroll through the new emails that have landed in my inbox. My fingers drum on

the desk, anticipating the one email that I’ve been waiting for the most—the details of the upcoming

cooking competition.

And then, there it is, bolded and marked with high importance: Cook-Off Competition Details.

Taking a deep breath, I click on it.

The email is concise but packed with information. Attached to it is a long list, detailing every possible

dish that might come up during the competition.

My heart rate quickens as I scan the list. Some dishes I recognize, ones I’ve made a thousand times

over in my career, but others are unfamiliar, exotic even, presenting challenges I’ve never faced before.

I won’t know which three dishes I’ll be asked to prepare on the spot. Which means only one thing: I

have to practice all of them. Every single one.

Grabbing a notepad, I jot down a list of ingredients I’ll need for the more exotic dishes, then turn my

attention to the restaurant’s supplier portal, adding item after item to the shopping list. The ingredients

range from the ordinary to the obscure. Each addition of expensive truffles, caviar, and fresh scallops

makes my anxiety spi ke.

How can I perfect so many dishes in such a short time?

Once the orders are placed, I stretch and push back from the desk, glancing at the clock on the wall.

It’s getting late, but there’s no time to waste. Without a second thought, I pull my hair into a messy bun

and prepare to head to the kitchen to get started.

Before I can leave, however, a sudden page over the intercom draws me from my task.

“Abby, can you come up front for a moment? I need help with the register.” It’s Chloe, her voice

strained.

my laptop with a sigh, I head to the bar where Chloe is standing. Frustration

as she fiddles with the register. “Hey, what’s going on?”

damn thing,” she mutters, her fingers hovering over the

evening.”

start navigating through the system. A few prodded buttons and

machine whirrs back to life, responding as it should. Chloe releases a breath she’s

been holding.

Abby. I thought I’d have to do

reply, giving her a reassuring smile. “Anything

head. “No, that’s it. But…” She hesitates, her eyes

other night… I shouldn’t have snapped at you. Especially

counter, crossing my arms.

your best friend,

get hurt again, fall into

the fears I keep buried deep down, but I push them away, offering her a

“Chloe, I already married Karl once, remember? Learned my lesson

to happen again.”

know,” she says softly, “but it’s just… you deserve so much better,

him hurting you again.”

appreciate your concern,

own decisions, and I don’t need to be monitored

holds my gaze for a beat, a mix of emotions swirling in

reluctant nod. “I understand.”

you,” I say, my voice soft, before

way back to my office, Chloe’s words reverberate in my head.

but another part is frustrated. This entire situation,

tightrope, balancing between concern and

strain my friendship with Chloe. Our bond means more to me

I want—no, need—her to trust me, to trust my judgments

those years ago, who got

my heart broken. I’ve grown, learned,

my friends just see

that’s

sink back down into my office chair, though, a thought

taste of his lips. Our intimacy in the kitchen,

spoken about.

horrible, delicious

…

has long since fallen quiet, with the last employees