#Chapter 74: Always a Catch
Abby

The clock on the wall reads 11:30 PM, its ticking slicing through the quietness of my office like a knife.

I’m engrossed in the sea of paperwork in front of me when there’s a knock on the door—soft but

persistent. My eyes dart up, half-expecting to see Chloe or maybe Leah, but it’s Karl leaning against

the doorframe.

“Hey,” he says, his eyes not quite meeting mine as he studies the pile of papers on my desk. “Am I

interrupting?”

His sudden appearance sets off a chorus of conflicting emotions inside me. Part of me wants to put up

the barriers again, but another part is surprised and, dare I admit, pleased to see him. It’s late, and I

thought that I was the only one left in the restaurant. As it turns out, I was wrong.

“No, not really,” I reply, setting aside my pen. “Just wrapping up some payroll stuff. What are you still

doing here? It’s late.”

“I wanted to stay late to prep the kitchen for tomorrow.” He pauses, his eyes now finding mine. “Saw

the light on under your door on my way out. Figured I’d check on you.”

The sincerity in his voice is disarming, but there’s a moment of hesitance between us, thick and almost

tangible. Finally, I break the silence. “Oh. Well, I’m fine,” I say, managing a stiff smile. “Thanks.”

Karl stands there for a few moments longer. It’s clear that he’s not planning on leaving, and I sigh,

setting my pen down again. Last night, he helped me with the souffle recipe again. But tonight, I have

other work to do. I can’t focus 100% of my time on preparing for the cook-off.

“What is it?” I ask, glancing up at him.

He shrugs. There’s an almost mischievous look in his eyes, like there’s something that he wants to say

but isn’t saying it. “Bar’s still open,” he says, glancing at his watch. “I was thinking of grabbing a drink.

Wanna join me?”

surprise. All this time, I’ve tried to contain our interactions to

way. But then, at the same time, it is

long that the numbers are starting to

with a resolved

a drink. But

smiles, a subtle lifting of the corners of his mouth that used to

says. “I can

locking up the restaurant, we head to the bar down the street. The transition from

the casual ambiance of the late-night setting feels almost surreal. This bar

creaky wooden floors and comfortable

beside

I’ve frequented this bar on

restaurant.

the bartender says, nodding politely to Karl in turn. “What can

open my mouth to respond, but before I can, Karl speaks

I raise my eyebrow at Karl.

me order my

ordered the same thing anyway. I know you,

know me. Too well, in fact. The bartender pours us a couple of

warmth spreads through me, the lines between past and present blur a bit. I find

our bond, but

little whiskey and some light chit-chat won’t

his fingers nervously circling the rim of his glass. “I need

I thought that Karl’s reconciliation with Chloe yesterday was enough

part, at least for the time

supportive of the competition. I know

a jerk about it. I was…” He pauses, his brown eyes studying the glass

front of him.

the air between us, charged and filled with an honesty that disorients

be skeptical, cautious. But something tells me this

a lot to me, Karl,” I murmur. “Thank you. But you

night.”

But I

“Enough? I—”

he says gently, his brown eyes filled with sincerity. “I’m so proud of you, Abby.

to support you throughout all of this. So whatever you

you win this competition.”

little at his offer. The man I used to love—the man

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