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

he’s an important part of

extending my hand across the desk. “Apology accepted. Let’s move on and make

place for everyone.

he agrees, shaking my hand

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

to the kitchen.

can’t help but

many more

…

like any other, the staff bustling around the kitchen as orders start pouring

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

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

he gives me

and everyone springs into high gear. Plates are flying,

is thick with the tantalizing smells of grilled meat,

an underlying current of teamwork that wasn’t there

sliding the plates onto the counter. I do

presentation; everything

and servers swoop in to whisk

John’s voice, commanding but not overbearing, instructing

balance. You want enough sauce so it’s flavorful

much that

pause to listen, holding my

John,” Karl replies, his tone earnest. He adjusts the

a garnish of parsley providing

John comments, and Karl beams, clearly pleased

small interaction, but it feels like a giant leap forward for both of them—and for me.