Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

Chapter 101
The aroma of freshly baked bread and simmering tomato sauce fills the air as I sit at my desk,

reviewing the inventory for the week.

It’s still early in the day, but the restaurant has already started to come alive. My eyes flit over numbers

and figures, but my thoughts keep drifting to the chaos of last night—Karl, John, Ethan, and that cook-

off looming in the future like a beacon of both opportunity and uncertainty.

As I’m about to turn my attention to the newly arrived email from Calvin, there’s a soft knock on my

door. “Come in,” I call out, hoping it’s not another crisis that needs immediate attention.

The door opens, and it’s John, looking a little sheepish. “Hey, Abby, you got a minute?”

I nod, gesturing for him to take a seat. “Sure, what’s on your mind?”

He hesitates, choosing his words carefully. “Look, about last night—I lost my cool, and I shouldn’t have

said what I did. I was…riled up, and I didn’t mean it. It was a long evening.”

I eye him skeptically, remembering his cutting remarks and confrontational demeanor. “You think?”

He winces. “I do. And I’m sorry. If you’re willing to forgive an old dog for his foolishness, I promise I’ll

train Karl properly and be more respectful. To everyone.”

The sincerity in his voice tips the balance for me. We’ve been through a lot, John and I, and though

far from perfect, he’s an

say, extending my hand across the desk. “Apology accepted.

place for

agrees, shaking

back out there; dinner service won’t prep itself,” I say, and we both stand to head

to the kitchen.

swings shut behind him, I can’t help but feel a small sense of relief. One hurdle cleared,

so many more

…

the staff bustling around

a palpable change in the atmosphere. John’s tone is

explaining the finer points of sauce reduction to Karl, who listens intently.

he

in, and everyone springs into high gear. Plates

tantalizing smells of

chaos, there’s an underlying current of

ready to go, Abby,” Ethan calls out, sliding the plates onto the counter. I do a

presentation; everything

and servers swoop in

John’s voice, commanding but not overbearing, instructing Karl on the

“Remember, Karl, it’s all about balance. You want enough sauce so

much

to listen, holding my

his tone earnest. He adjusts the angle of his tongs

plate, a garnish of parsley providing the finishing

comments, and Karl beams, clearly pleased by

it feels like a giant leap forward for both of them—and for me. As