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.

sigh, rubbing my eyes. “Did

saunters in again, perching

for you about tomorrow’s delivery

look like you could use

my head, pushing myself up to my feet in an attempt to make myself look more

I really feel right now. “I’m perfectly fine,” I lie, hoping that he

that I’m wavering slightly where I’m

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

time. And something

the room in a feeble attempt to

peering out into the dimly lit city street. It’s pouring

getting late and the kitchen will close soon

“You should go home,

be fine. I’ll

I nod, and Karl sighs. “It’s supposed

you home, okay?”

the window for another few moments at the rain,

coat h ook reveals that my umbrella is nowhere

my nap on my desk didn’t really do much to cure

back to face Karl.

quickly.

…

space of my

smells like fresh leather and a hint of pine air freshener.

we drive. I’ve always loved the

neon signs look on a stormy night; it’s

the bright signs of late-night diners and convenience stores

the weight of my job—the critics, the health inspectors, the

and I find myself lost in the rhythmic

breaks the silence. “You looked like you were having one hell of a dream back

and a server shortage

nightmare. I

sleep.”

dreams are just unpaid labor

could get compensation somehow.”

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

brick building with ivy crawling up the sides

the front door. It’s surrounded by

I almost walked

embarrassing.

engine, then looks at me, his eyes searching my

need a vacation? My offer

remember the pool and the hot tub, and all of the