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

her hands

says as

not your fault.” I give her

while, I help pick up the slack in the

the front door swings

glance at them tells me all that I need to know: they have that classic “I’d like to speak

air about them, and my heart sinks. They must be the

this establishment?” the woman asks, her eyes scanning me

whether I’m worthy of her

I reply, bracing myself for a potential scolding—or worse, pressing

here, washing dishes? Something about a prank?” the

arms over his

swallowing the lump in my throat. “They tripped one of my waitresses.

was damage to

the accusations, perhaps even threats of a lawsuit.

exchanging a tired look with her

to deal with this,” she says, shaking

of responsibility in them, but teenagers will be teenagers,

mean-spirited pranks,” the man chimes in. “They told us it was a

goes beyond a joke. Someone got

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

lifting off my shoulders.

cooks, thought it would be a fitting punishment

cautiously, gauging their response.

nods, looking toward the kitchen. “In fact, we’d like

week of scrubbing your kitchen and

drive

ask, stunned. “I wouldn’t want to

imposition,” the woman assures me. “It’s about time they learn

expect to deal

from the kitchen, wiping his hands

I nod subtly, a smile breaking through my

“They agree with your punishment. Actually,

for an

hand to each parent. “I appreciate your understanding. Trust me,

He glances at me, winking

my gaze to my

settled,” the man says, shaking Karl’s hand

kitchen, presumably to have a serious

bar,

shoulder barely touching mine.

all,” I say softly, a slight laugh escaping my lips. “But these past couple of

chock full of surprises.”

at me, his eyes warm and comforting. “Some surprises are good, don’t

I murmur, realizing the truth in his words. Maybe it’s the