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.

and saunters in again,

had a question for you about tomorrow’s delivery schedule,

look like you could use some rest

feet in an attempt to make myself look more competent

than I really feel right now. “I’m perfectly fine,” I lie, hoping that he won’t

that I’m wavering slightly where I’m

me without answering. There’s something gentle in

a very long time. And something about it makes my

in a feeble attempt to hide the blush that’s creeping into my

into the dimly lit city street. It’s pouring

it’s getting late and the kitchen will close soon

reality. “You should go home,

“I’ll be fine. I’ll at least

stops raining?” he asks. I nod, and Karl sighs. “It’s supposed

you home, okay?”

another few moments at the

coat h ook reveals that my umbrella is nowhere

desk didn’t really do much

say, turning back to face Karl. He’s got

it quickly.

…

space of my office to Karl’s sleek, black

leather and a hint of pine air freshener. The

off of the windshield as we drive.

stormy

weave through the streets, the bright signs

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

myself lost in the rhythmic hum of the

looked like you were having

drink, and a server shortage all at

health inspection nightmare. I can’t seem

sleep.”

a smirk. “Well, dreams

could get compensation somehow.”

is working overtime,” I reply, my words

my apartment complex—a red brick building with ivy crawling up

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

almost walked into someone else’s

embarrassing.

the engine, then looks at

a vacation? My offer still stands. Remember the pool and the

pool and the hot tub, and all of the luxuries