Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

Abby

Applause begins to ripple across the studio audience, but all I see is Karl, sitting

in the back, staring down at me. He’s wearing a blue surgical mask, but I know

it’s him. I can tell by his eyes, by the way that my wolf stirs ever so slightly just

from looking at him.

“Wow, Abby,” Sarah says, drawing me back to the present, back to the interview.

“That was lovely. Your staff must be really grateful to have you.”

I shake my head. “No. I’m lucky to have them.”

“Well, that’s all, folks,” Sarah says, turning back to face the crowd. “Everyone

give a big round of applause for Abby, the owner of La Belle Vie Bistro!”

Enter title…

Another wave of applause washes over the room, smattered with a few cheers.

The cameraman gives me my cue, and I stand, waving as I jog off stage. Once

backstage, the assistant from before gives me a nod and a thumbs-up, then

points for me to head back to the greenroom.

As I head down the hall to the greenroom, I feel like I’m floating on air. So that

was it; that was the interview. I did it!

The greenroom is a modest room, furnished with a couple of sofas, a coffee

table littered with fashion magazines, and a snack bar.

The walls are adorned with photos of previous guests who came on the show,

from famous musicians to local artists. There’s a bathroom in the back, and

feeling like I’ll be sick now from the nerves of it all, I head to the bathroom to

water on my

behind me and let out a

process. Tomorrow, I’ll be headed to the cook-off,

feel as though the real fight

water on my face to calm myself, I

jars me, but I can still see myself:

army of amazing

I’m about to head back

hear a voice in the

is a serious competition. I’ve been training

and I can’t afford to be

recognize the voice instantly: Daniel. My ears

accomplished chefs, who could she possibly be talking about?

to eavesdrop, but then she

non-factor. No, seriously, have you

he’s listening to someone, likely over

like it’s about to pound

but a fangirl with no

a silly little homemaker who

the help of her male chefs—one of whom is

homeless man!”

his

a field dominated by men, and being beaten

me, but the essence of La Belle Vie,

is part of

man,’ as he so insensitively put it, is

chefs I’ve

Daniel continues, his voice fading. “I’m not worried about

in the slightest…”

Daniel’s voice fades away. I can hear his shoes clicking on

fade into nothing. Only then do I finally turn

letting out a shuddering

step out of

although it’s empty, feels like it’s shrinking.

can still hear Daniel’s

head like an awful,

Fangirl. Amateur. Homemaker. Silly.

it’s dropping into my stomach. How can a fellow