Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 85: Housemaid
Abby

I’m in the kitchen organizing my thoughts, sketching out a m ental roadmap for tonight’s three-course

extravaganza as I mumble under my breath.

“Sauvignon Blanc with the salmon… Hmm… Maybe I should prepare cappuccinos with the torte for

dessert…”

Just then, the door swings open, and in walks Karl, bags of groceries in hand. Gianna, his ever-present

secretary, trails closely behind him.

My heart does a little dance at the sight of Karl, a knee-jerk reaction I’ve never been able to fully quell.

Even with my wolf being asleep, the presence he creates when he walks into a room always makes her

lurch in my mind, as though she can always sense him in her sleep.

In a way, it’s frustrating. I want to yell at my wolf for leaving me alone and then momentarily

reappearing every time the man who broke my heart walks into the room, but I know it won’t do any

good.

However, something else is on my mind right now. I can’t help but notice how well they seem to get

along, Gianna laughing at something Karl has just said. A pang of jealousy surges through me.

“Hey, Abby. Got everything you asked for,” Karl announces, setting the bags on the countertop.

I shake off the jealousy, reminding myself that Karl and I are just friends now. “Thank you, both of you.

This means a lot to me.”

“It’s nothing,” Karl replies, a softness in his eyes that makes my stomach churn with a mix of nostalgia

and longing. “Need anything else?”

I shake my head. “No. I’m good, thanks.” Then, I turn to Gianna, determined to be cordial. “How are

you doing, Gianna?”

“I’m fine,” she responds tersely, a frosty undertone to her voice. Then, shifting her attention to Karl, she

says, “Could I speak to you privately? We need to sort some things out before the dinner.”

my direction as

room, Gianna leading the way

feeling a strange knot tighten in my stomach. It’s not jealousy,

something—something that unsettles me.

with what sounds like outright disgust. “G ods, I can’t stand

turn back to the counter. “Let’s not focus on

to prepare, and it

Abby,” she says. “Though, for the record, you’ve got no reason to be jealous. No one

your place,

make me feel unexpectedly warm. “Karl

I have no interest

a look that says she knows better, but she doesn’t push it. Instead, she helps

out the fresh salmon, vibrant vegetables, and

herbs.

hands reach for the ingredients, eager to

…

kitchen is a lively mixture of scents and spices as I work with meticulous

hand me the

“Sure thing, Abby.”

few years ago, when I was still the Luna, I prepared this very meal for the

triumphant smile tugs at my lips. Tonight is a reminder that I haven’t

servant walks in.

taking my eyes

realize that the crust isn’t quite what I wanted.

It would be easier to just let it slide, to declare it good enough, but

renowned chef, the one who always

I mutter under my breath, reaching for a fresh piece of salmon. I’m about to season

voices filtering from the dining

you should have seen the look on her face, trying so hard to impress everyone with

we’ve forgotten that our ex-Luna has

housemaid.”

back of her head, her perfectly

door. Heat surges up my neck and into

housemaid? Really?

That’s it.

I remember that the wardrobe upstairs still

A cun ning plan starts

watch the stove? Take the salmon

dinner is ready.”

already ripping off my apron

two at

I slide