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

cold water on my

let out a sigh, knowing that this is just

to the

feel as though the

face

makeup still jars me, but I can still see

army of amazing

moments, I’m about to head back out to grab my things when

in the other room, and

is a serious competition. I’ve

afford to be distracted by—by

My ears perk up. Amateurs? In

could she possibly

but then she

No, seriously, have you seen

pause, as though he’s listening to someone, likely over the

feels like it’s about to pound out of

a fangirl with no real experience. You know what

a silly little homemaker who can

her male chefs—one

homeless man!”

air in the room gets thick; his words are a

field dominated by men, and being beaten

not just me, but the essence of La Belle Vie,

of their background, is part of a

resident ‘dirty homeless man,’ as he so insensitively put it,

chefs

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

in the slightest…”

that, Daniel’s voice fades away. I

nothing. Only then do I

door knob with shaking hands, letting out a

out of

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

can

like an

Fangirl. Amateur. Homemaker. Silly.

dropping into my stomach. How can a fellow chef