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.”

casting a glance in my direction as if to say ‘I’ll

way

watch them go, feeling a strange knot tighten in my stomach.

something—something that unsettles me.

what sounds like outright

I turn back to the counter. “Let’s not focus on her, Elsie.

and it has

right, Abby,” she says. “Though, for the record, you’ve got no reason

your place,

jealous,” I insist, although her words make me feel unexpectedly warm. “Karl

no interest in

gives me a look that says she knows better, but she doesn’t push

the fresh salmon, vibrant vegetables, and a variety of spices

herbs.

ingredients, eager to transform them into

…

kitchen is a lively mixture of scents and spices as

hand me

“Sure thing, Abby.”

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

at my lips. Tonight is

concentration is interrupted when another servant walks

minutes,” I say, not taking my eyes off the

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

not quite. It would be easier to just let it slide, to declare it good enough, but that’s not me.

chef, the one who

I mutter under my breath, reaching for a fresh

from

face, trying so

our ex-Luna has turned into nothing more than a

housemaid.”

recognize that voice: Gianna. I can see the back of her head, her perfectly curled hair and

kitchen door. Heat surges up my neck

housemaid? Really?

That’s it.

I remember that the wardrobe

of silk and sequins. A cun ning plan starts

watch the stove? Take the salmon off in five minutes and

dinner is ready.”

already ripping off my apron

two at

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