Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

Abby

My heart pounds as the room goes quiet. What on earth is happening right now?

We’re all looking at each other—me, Karl, John, and the homeless man. His eyes meet mine, full of a sort

of knowing energy that leaves me speechless. Is this a joke? He really has experience cooking with black

truffles, some of the rarest and most expensive in the world?

“You look confused, so I’ll explain,” he says, smiling through his beard. “I was once a chef in France and

Italy. Emphasis on was. But I’ve still got my skills.”

Karl scoffs, breaking the silence. “You’ve got to be kidding me. A chef? You expect us to believe that?”

The man just shrugs, a tiny smile on his lips. “Believe what you want. I know how to cook with black

truffles, and you, my friends, are missing a crucial ingredient. That’s all I’m saying.”

Enter title…

snorts. “Yeah, right. What’s next?

His skepticism is understandable, but there’s something about this man

eyes, or maybe it’s the unexpected way that

the tiniest chance that he knows

hearing him out?” I say, finally breaking my silence. My

hope it conveys how genuinely curious I am. “I mean, we’re stumped,

but nods. “Fine, whatever. It’s not like

on this

exchange, finally speaks. “I say let’s give

have to lose?”

the air. “My last shred of sanity, probably. But go on,

should we call you?”

call me Anton,” the man replies, seemingly unperturbed by Karl’s

leans against the counter, arms crossed, intrigued. “So, Anton, you were a chef in

with black truffles often?”

for a moment as if

Michelin-starred restaurants in France and

times than I can

Karl’s for