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.

good,” I sigh, rubbing my eyes. “Did you

the doorframe and saunters in again, perching

for you about tomorrow’s delivery schedule, but it’s really

could

my feet in an attempt to make

“I’m perfectly fine,” I

that I’m wavering slightly where I’m standing. “What’s your

me without answering.

haven’t seen in a very long time. And something about

I cross the room in a feeble attempt to hide

stop by the window, peering out into the dimly lit city street. It’s pouring

and the kitchen will close soon anyway,”

to reality. “You should

be fine. I’ll at least

and Karl sighs. “It’s supposed

you home, okay?”

stare out the window for another few moments at the rain, listening

glance at my coat h ook reveals that my umbrella is nowhere to be found, and I

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

I finally say, turning back to face Karl. He’s got an almost triumphant look

it quickly.

…

transition from the dim, cramped space of my office to Karl’s sleek, black sedan

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

the windshield as we drive. I’ve always loved the

neon signs look on a stormy night; it’s like something

streets, the bright signs of

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

myself lost in the rhythmic hum of the

silence. “You looked like you were having one hell

tropical drink, and a server shortage

nightmare. I can’t seem to escape

sleep.”

me with a smirk. “Well, dreams are

could get compensation somehow.”

reply, my

front of my apartment complex—a red brick building with ivy crawling up the sides and

door. It’s surrounded by other buildings

almost walked

embarrassing.

the engine,

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

and the hot tub, and all of