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.

my eyes. “Did

again, perching on the edge of my cluttered

a question for you about tomorrow’s delivery schedule, but it’s really not that important,”

you could use some rest

to my feet in an attempt to make

“I’m perfectly fine,” I lie, hoping that he

I’m wavering slightly where I’m standing.

Karl gazes at me without answering. There’s something gentle in

that I haven’t seen in a very long time.

room in a feeble attempt to hide the blush that’s

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

kitchen will close

“You should go

“I’ll be fine. I’ll at

raining?” he asks. I nod, and Karl sighs. “It’s supposed to rain all night. Just

you home, okay?”

the window for another few moments at the rain, listening as

ook reveals that my

on my desk didn’t really do

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

quickly.

…

cramped space of my office to Karl’s sleek, black sedan is an

fresh leather and a hint of pine air

the windshield as we drive. I’ve always loved

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

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

weight of my job—the critics,

myself lost in the rhythmic hum

silence. “You looked like you were having one

tropical drink, and

“More like a health inspection nightmare. I can’t seem

sleep.”

“Well, dreams

could get compensation somehow.”

I reply, my words tinged with a fatigue

red brick building with

leading to the front door. It’s surrounded by other buildings that look just like

here, I almost

embarrassing.

off the engine, then looks at me, his

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

remember the pool and the hot tub, and all of the luxuries of our old home.