Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 78: A Little Vacation
Abby

My eyes snap open to discover that someone, in the span of what feels like five minutes, my office has

grown dark. There’s a hand on my shoulder, and an all-too-familiar face—with a smirk on it, of course—

staring down at me.

“Sleepy?” Karl asks, his lips twitching into a grin.

I shake my head and sit up, trying to regain a sense of reality. The glare of the desk lamp sca tters

across stacks of invoices and order forms, casting a dim amber glow over everything.

“No,” I lie, looking away as Karl crosses the room back to the doorway. “I was just putting my head

down for a few minutes.”

A quick glance at the clock reveals that it’s almost eight o’clock, and considering the fact that it’s a

Wednesday, the restaurant is already mostly quiet. Through my half-open office door, I can just barely

make out the faint sound of sc at tered voices and silverware on plates from the few customers who are

still hanging around, post-dinner rush.

Karl laughs and leans against the doorframe. “Sure. And what looks like drool on your cheek must just

be condensation or something, right?”

Drool? I swipe my cheek with the back of my hand and sure enough, it comes away wet. Great.

“Okay, you go me,” I mutter, smoothing down my messy hair. “This morning was hectic, and I didn’t

sleep too well last night…”

Karl shrugs. “Don’t sweat it,” he assures me. “In fact, you’ll be happy to know that after the health

inspector left, everything else went smoothly. No more food critics, no sick servers, no arguing

employees.”

I force a half-smile. So word really does travel fast; or rather, Karl is more attuned to the drama than I

thought. I never mentioned the sick servers and arguing employees to anyone, but someone must have

noticed.

I sigh, rubbing my

off the doorframe and saunters in again, perching on the edge of

a question for you about tomorrow’s delivery schedule,

you could use

my feet in an attempt to make

perfectly fine,” I lie, hoping

wavering slightly where

moments, Karl gazes at me without answering. There’s

time. And something about it makes

a feeble attempt to hide the

peering out into the dimly lit

kitchen will close soon

to reality. “You should go home,

shrug. “I’ll be fine. I’ll at least

I nod, and Karl sighs.

you home, okay?”

stare out the window for another few moments at the

reveals that my umbrella

my nap on my desk didn’t really

face Karl.

it quickly.

…

of my

and a hint of pine air freshener. The

rain, bounce off of the windshield as we drive. I’ve always loved the city in the rain, especially

neon signs look on a stormy

the streets, the bright signs of late-night diners and convenience stores flashing

moment, the weight of my job—the critics,

lost in the rhythmic

finally breaks the silence. “You looked like you were having

a tropical drink, and a server

“More like a health inspection nightmare. I can’t seem to escape the restaurant, even in

sleep.”

at me with a smirk. “Well, dreams are just unpaid

could get compensation somehow.”

subconscious is working overtime,” I reply, my words tinged with a fatigue

my apartment complex—a red brick

door. It’s

here, I almost walked into someone else’s apartment. That

embarrassing.

and turns off the engine, then looks at

sure you don’t need a vacation? My offer still stands. Remember the pool and

look away. Of course I remember the pool and the hot tub, and all of the