Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

His gaze finally breaks from mine, looking at anything but my face. “I was just

checking something,” he says, his voice so low it’s a whisper.

“Oh, you were ‘checking something?’” I echo, my tone chalk full of disbelief. “By

switching labels and possibly ruining our dish? Hm?”

He opens his mouth, then closes it again, the perfect picture of guilt.

“I was just…” He stammers, his voice trailing off.

I can’t take it anymore. I’m getting those truffles—the real black truffles, the ones

that are balled up in his filthy little hand, about to be slipped into his pocket—for

Abby, one way or another.

Enter title…

of a plan, I find myself

of the competition, and snatch the truffles out of

call out, loud enough for the others to hear.

you up to this?”

truffles come into my possession, the sous chef’s face

unreadable, and suddenly, he’s cradling his wrist,

pain.

You hurt me!” he cries

“I did no such thing! I didn’t

you!”

off the pantry walls, drawing

falls deathly silent,

eager to capture this drama for live

He’s lying!” I protest, holding out

his deceit. “He was

truffles and—”

late; the narrative has shifted, and I can see it