Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 69: Serving Judgments
Karl

“Watch it, you’re massacring those veggies,” John calls out, glancing over from the stove where he’s

sauteeing some garlic and mushrooms.

I chuckle, adjusting my grip on the knife. I’m supposed to be julienning some peppers, but instead I’ve

lost my train of thought and accidentally begun dicing them instead. “Yeah, well, they had it coming.”

John grins, shaking his head. “Y’know, you’re not as unfunny and st upid as I thought you were.”

“Could say the same about you,” I reply, gathering the sliced vegetables into a bowl.

Who would’ve thought? John and I, mortal enemies turned reluctant allies. A couple of weeks ago, we

could barely stand to be in the same room, but time and circumstances—and angry bosses—have a

way of forcing you to reassess your priorities.

“It’s all about collaboration,” John continues, his tone more philosophical than I thought the brute would

be capable of. “You can’t make a great dish with just one ingredient. Same with a kitchen. Everyone’s

got to pull their weight, contribute their flavor for the bigger picture.”

“You should put that on a plaque or something.”

“And have everyone roll their eyes? Nah, I’ll stick to cooking,” he laughs, adding a splash of white wine

to the pan, filling the air with a rich, aromatic scent.

The door to Abby’s office opens, and for a moment, my world narrows. She steps out, her eyes

scanning the room as if looking for something—or someone. When her gaze falls on me, my heart

leaps in anticipation.

But she averts her eyes, quickening her pace as she walks out of the kitchen.

The atmosphere turns brittle around me. John notices, his eyes narrowing. “Hey, snap out of it! You’re

burning the scallops.”

“Sorry,” I mutter.

I refocus on the task at hand, on the sound of the scallops sizzling in the pan, but the weight of last

me like a dark cloud. We’d argued,

earlier agreement. I’d felt betrayed; she’d felt

messed up big

a swirl of regret and

day winds down, as the kitchen grows quieter, the realization sinks in deeper. Abby isn’t just

of this restaurant. She’s not just another

desires should mean as much

insecurities, my fears, get in the way. I shake my

that’s been driven between

good here?” John

you tomorrow,” I say, forcing

somewhat concerned glance my way before exiting the kitchen. Alone

it up. My eyes catch Abby’s office door, still closed, a barrier in

one.

moment, I almost knock. But then, I decide that right now, I think

…

the bar always stays open for

tastes a lot like failure. My eyes catch my

have reacted

have to make things so complicated.

murmurs, his voice a gravelly

proud. Not territorial.”

snort, swirling the whiskey in its glass. “She knew how much

—”

means to her,”

support. Show that you care. And not just about

her,” I shoot back defensively, but my

thoughts and

the bartenders, walks over to

disdain she feels for me

look?” I ask, setting down the glass harder than I mean to. “You’re serving

now instead

who’s asking, I think I can manage both,” she snaps, her

a touch

aren’t I?”

how you missed being supportive of Abby when she

voice drips

So she knows.

know what went down last night, how you made

put her through, you’ve got the nerve to get angry about

I’ve been slapped. Chloe has always been direct, no-nonsense, but this feels like

I wasn’t prepared for right now. For a moment,