Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 79: Mean Spirited
Abby

The lunchtime rush is finally easing up. Much unlike yesterday, it’s been a smooth day so far, and I feel

relieved; but that’s exactly when it happens.

I’m scanning the restaurant floor, making sure everything is running smoothly, when I hear the crash.

It’s a shocking mix of the sound of ceramic shattering, gasps, and the thud of a body hitting the floor,

followed by a loud “Ow!”

My heart lurches into my throat as I rush over to see one of my waitresses, Sarah, sprawled on the

ground amid a mess of broken dishes and spilled food.

“What happened?” I ask, my eyes darting around the room, locking onto a group of snickering

teenagers at a nearby table.

“I saw it,” Karl says, striding past me. “Those little s hits tripped her. Deliberately.”

In seconds, he’s at their table, his face dark with anger. “You think that was funny? Get up.”

“It was an accident!” one of the kids says, feigning innocence. But it’s clear that he’s full of sh it. They all

are.

I kneel beside Sarah, who’s clutching her wrist, her face pale. “Are you okay?” I ask.

“I think so,” she mumbles, grimacing as she attempts to move. I call over two other employees to clean

the mess and guide Sarah to a chair.

Karl reappears, dragging the shame-faced teenagers behind him. “Apologize,” he commands, his voice

icy. They mumble sca ttered apologies, looking anywhere but at Sarah or me.

“Sorry isn’t enough,” Karl continues. “You’re washing dishes for the rest of the night. And if I see any of

you around here again causing trouble, you’re going to wish you never set foot in this place.”

“Karl, you can’t—” I begin, but my voice trails off with a look from Karl. A look I know all too well, one

that embodies his spirit of an Alpha.

I watch the teenagers slink off to the kitchen, led by Karl. The room is quiet now; even the low hum of

conversations has died down. But my focus is on Sarah, who is sitting by the bar and wiping tears from

eyes, her

sorry, Abby,” she says as

your fault.” I give her shoulder a squeeze.

while, I help pick up the slack in the

But it’s not long before the front door swings

tells me all that I need to know: they have

about them, and my heart

the owner of this establishment?” the woman asks, her eyes scanning

I’m worthy of

I reply, bracing myself for

us they’re here, washing dishes? Something about a prank?” the

arms over

in my throat. “They tripped

and there was

for the outburst, the accusations, perhaps even threats of a lawsuit. But

tired look with her

have to deal with this,” she says,

them, but

doesn’t excuse mean-spirited pranks,” the man chimes in. “They told us

goes beyond a joke.

This is not the reaction I was expecting, but it’s

lifting off my shoulders.

be a fitting punishment for them to help clean up,” I

cautiously, gauging their response.

fitting punishment indeed.” The man nods, looking toward the kitchen.

employment, if you’d be willing. A week of scrubbing your

drive the message

you sure?” I ask, stunned. “I

about

and not expect to deal

wiping his hands

a smile breaking

these are the parents,” I explain. “They agree with your

for an entire

parent. “I

learned in a kitchen. I would know.” He glances

my gaze to

man says, shaking Karl’s hand

kitchen, presumably to have a serious

the bar,

barely

slight laugh escaping my lips. “But these

chock full of surprises.”

warm and comforting. “Some surprises

in his words. Maybe it’s the