Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

Chatper 243

Abby

All I can do is watch, helpless, as Karl’s form recedes.

He’s being guided forcibly away by the firm hand of a security guard, and he’s

yelling something over the din of the crowd, the announcer, and the sounds of

cooking.

I can’t make out what he’s saying, but whatever it is, it’s frantic. But before I can

make sense of it, a microphone is suddenly shoved in my face, and the camera

blocks my view of Karl’s fading form.

“Abby, what’s happening? Does your sous chef often show such aggressive

behavior?” The announcer’s voice breaks through my train of thought, loud and

Enter title…

grating over the microphone. I feel frozen to my spot, unsure of what to do.

“I… Um… Excuse me,” I manage, pushing past the announcer and hurrying

toward the edge of the stage, toward where Karl and the security guard

disappeared to. But Mr. Thompson is already in my way, grabbing my arm and

yanking me out of the view of the camera.

“Abby, you can’t follow him,” Mr. Thompson hisses, his voice low. “Get back out

there.”

“But I need to—” I begin, but the words are cut off.

“No,” Mr. Thompson cuts in, his tone leaving no room for argument. “What you

need to do is finish your dish. This will be handled, don’t worry.”

“But Karl, he—”

care of,” he interrupts firmly. “The

will not stop. You must continue or

mind races. “But I can’t cook without my sous chef,” I argue, my

Daniel still has his

with a regretful shake of

rules. I’m sorry, Abby, but it’s not up to me. You do

me now. It doesn’t feel

all on my own.

okay,” I

This—this is a farce!”

don’t have to pretend anything,” Mr. Thompson

for, isn’t it? To prove yourself

at the station, at the unfinished

on the stage—all of it is

is right; I can’t

have to go back,” Mr.

laced with concern. “You know Karl would want you to

without him.”

my eyes for a fleeting second, letting his words

Mr. Thompson is right,

though each word feels hollow, even to me.

the dish, but I won’t let this lie. Karl is many things,

one of them.”

Thompson says, squeezing

Personally.”

and run back on stage, where

this time. The

at me from their booth. Daniel and

And the timer hasn’t

already wasted several minutes over

I dash past the camera

ticking time bomb, a countdown to

feel utterly helpless in this

my way past Daniel’s station, I catch his

back at work, his sous chef cooking

Daniel shoots me that look with that

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