Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 100: Mushroom Hunting
Abby

The weight of failure feels almost physical, like there’s something sharp and heavy literally lodged in

my chest.

I stare at the computer screen displaying “Truffles Unavailable” in blunt, red letters. I’ve sent countless

emails to suppliers, spent hours scouring online marketplaces, and I’ve even visited local storefronts to

browse their selection, all to no avail.

A part of me wants to give up on the recipe altogether, to throw in the towel and declare the universe

the winner in this sadi stic game it’s been playing with me. I could hope that this recipe won’t be chosen,

or at the very least, that I can read enough about it online to get a good idea as to how to make it.

But another part—perhaps the stubborn or perhaps the hopeful part—won’t let me settle for that. What

if this recipe is chosen for the competition? What if the online recipes just don’t do it justice? I need to

be prepared, and this could be my last shot at turning things around.

I close the laptop with a sigh, my eyes drifting to a framed picture of me and Chloe on a past

mushroom hunting trip. It’s not truffles, but maybe, just maybe, I could find something close, something

that’ll at least help me practice the textures and flavors.

…

“Going somewhere?” The voice slices through my thoughts, and I turn around to see Karl standing at

the doorway, his eyes lingering on my hiking boots and backpack. It’s early in the morning, too early for

anyone but me to be here. And yet there’s Karl, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, as my grandmother used

to say.

“That’s none of your business,” I shoot back, my voice carrying a sharper edge than I intended. But

really, the last thing I need right now is more complications, more entanglement with him.

He steps into the room, the door falling shut behind him. “Abby, don’t be like this. I told you that I want

to help.”

need help,” I

“I’ve been mushroom hunting since I was a kid. I’ll be

penetrating, like he’s looking right through me. “You’re

truffles around here, you know that,

I need to do something,

his demeanor shifts, his voice turning stern, his posture more rigid. “Then let

you.”

energy in his eyes, a silent, commanding

the restrained Karl I’ve been dealing with lately. And in that moment, something in

way.

hear myself

mine, and for a split second, I see something there, a glint of

“Good,” he says, his

he’s gone, leaving me alone in my office, staring at

did I just

…

floor is soft beneath my boots, each step mu ffled by a layer of damp leaves

earth.

casting the forest in surreal

through a dream. Or maybe a nightmare, if

respectful distance, his footsteps softly echoing my

the ground for any

point to a cluster near a huge oak tree’s gnarled

leaning down to take a closer look.

laugh, brushing away leaves to reveal the reddish-brown caps. “Definitely not the truffles

yes, they are edible.”

discovering various fungi sca ttered throughout

colors, others more muted but no

biology lesson as I identify them, and the tension that’s been clinging

slowly begins to lift.

remember that time we went mushroom hunting

breaking a prolonged silence. “You had to stop me from

at the memory, a tinge of nostalgia sweeping over me. “You were so excited, you didn’t even

You would have sauteed it right up and ended up

in the laughter, and for a brief moment, the forest becomes a sanctuary, a place

nothing else. But then guilt seeps in, muddying the moment.

laughing, not like this, not when I just

But then, something happens.

as a distant shout cuts through the mist, followed by the disconcerting sound

echoing between the

instantly, grabbing my arm and pulling me behind a large