Chasing His Kickass Luna Back Chapter 115

Abby

The restaurant is closed for the evening, and it’s about time that I gather my team for an impromptu meeting.

“Listen up, everyone. I know it’s been a long day, but we need to talk about something important.”

My eyes scan over the faces of my staff: Anton, the homeless chef who turns out to be a culinary genius; Daisy, our beloved waitress who once worked the streets; Ethan, a war veteran with a limp who has become my trusted restaurant manager; John, a single father with a past alcohol problem; and finally Karl, my ex-husband turned line cook.

Anton sets down his ladle and wipes his hands on his apron. “Is everything okay, Abby?”

“It’s about that article,” I hesitantly begin, fully aware that I’m opening a can of worms. “People are talking, and we need to be prepared for whatever comes next.”

Daisy looks up, her eyes narrowing. “So what are you saying? We should prepare for the worst?”

“Not exactly, but I think we should be cautious,” I say. “I mean, come on, let’s be real: Anton, you’re homeless. Daisy, you have a past you’re trying to move away from. Ethan, you’ve got your own set of scars, and—”

Ethan suddenly cuts me off, a fierce look in his eyes that I’ve never seen before. “Are you trying so say that you’re ashamed of us, Abby?”

“No!” The word bursts out of me, and I feel my face flush. “I’m not ashamed. You all are the best team I could’ve ever asked for. But I have to publish an article before the competition, and—”

Daisy leans against the counter, shooting me a sideways look. “What are you suggesting? That we put on a show? Make the place seem more ‘normal’, like we’re not a bunch of weirdos?”

“I don’t know,” I admit. “Maybe it would be good to be proactive about it, control the narrative a bit.”

Ethan chuckles darkly. “What are we gonna do? Put out a press release saying, ‘Hey, come to our restaurant; our staff is just as messed up as you are?’”

I laugh despite myself. “Well, when you put it that way, it does sound terrible, doesn’t it?”

Karl steps forward, locking his eyes on mine. “So what’s the real issue, Abby? Are you scared of losing business, or are you scared of what people will think of you?”

His words hit me like a ton of bricks. Am I trying to protect my business, or my reputation?

“Both,” I finally confess. “But mostly, I’m scared that if people label us as haphazard or unconventional right off the bat, they won’t give us a chance. People are judgmental. And all your talents—your gifts—will be overlooked.”

Anton nods slowly, taking my words in. “Miss Abby has a point. A restaurant is still a business. But perhaps there is a way to have the best of both worlds; to have our cake and eat it, too.”

John nods, adding, “We’ve all fought hard to be who we are, to get to where we are. Let’s not lose that now. Not for anyone.”

“I agree,” Daisy says, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes. “People will talk no matter what. We can’t control that. What we can control is the quality of our work, our food, and our service.”

I look at each of them, and as I do, I realize that they’re right. Nothing will ever convince people that we’re perfect, and why would we want it that way? Why would I want it that way?

My eyes finally land on Karl, and the sparkle in his eyes steels my resolve. “So we’re all in agreement? We stay true to ourselves, come what may?”

Karl smiles, his eyes softening in that special way that still makes my heart skip a beat. “We wouldn’t have it any other way, Abby.”

A sense of warmth and certainty floods over me. Standing here, in the restaurant we’ve all worked so hard to build, I realize that we’re more than just a team; we’re a family, just like Daisy said.

An unconventional, imperfect, but entirely genuine family. And that’s worth more than any reputation, any competition, any amount of success.

I clear my throat, trying to dispel the sudden lump forming there. “Alright then, let’s prepare for another day of proving the world wrong. One meal at a time.”

As they nod, grins forming on their faces, I feel it deep down—this is exactly where I’m supposed to be, with these people, in this moment. And whatever comes next, we’ll face it together.

The meeting disperses, and my staff go their separate ways. Karl lingers, shuffling his feet in a way that makes me think he has something on his mind.

“Abby, do you have a moment?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“If you’re worried about the article, I can help you find a good journalist. Someone who can capture the essence of the place, the people,” he says.

I’m touched by his offer. “That's really kind of you, Karl. Thanks.”

He clears his throat. “I could walk you home. We could talk more about it.”

I hesitate for a moment, considering. Then, I nod. “Alright, let’s walk.”

We leave the restaurant, locking up for the night. The street is mostly quiet, a few cars passing by, and a low buzz of activity from the nearby bars. The air is cool, a bit crisp, but not uncomfortable.

“You know, I’ve been really impressed with how the restaurant is doing,” Karl says, breaking the silence.

“Oh?” I can't keep the surprise out of my voice.

“Yeah. I mean, I remember being so pissed off when you entered that cook-off. Thought you were going to ruin our chances of going to the Alpha party together. But look at you now, making headlines. I’m sorry that I ever acted like that. I should have been more supportive.”

I look at him, shocked and a bit touched by his candidness. “That’s really sweet of you to say, Karl.”

He shrugs, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Just stating facts. I’m proud of you, Abby. Really, I am.”

“You have no idea how much that means to me,” I reply. “And I’m glad you came back, after everything that happened. So I guess in a way, I’m also sorry—sorry for storming out on you back at the house.”

He sighs. “I’m more surprised you let me back, especially after what happened with Adam. Thanks for forgiving me.”

I stop walking, looking him square in the eye. “Let’s get one thing clear: I haven’t entirely forgiven you for that. And I don’t know if I ever will. But I do understand that your intentions, misguided as they were, came from a place of caring.”

Karl nods, solemn. “I get that. And I mean it when I say I’ll never pull a stunt like that again.”

“I’m glad to call you my friend, Karl, after everything we’ve been through,” I say, extending my hand.

He looks at me, then down at my hand, and for a moment, I think I see a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. But then it’s gone, and he takes my hand, giving it a firm shake.

“Me too, Abby. Me too.”

We resume our walk, nearing my apartment building. “Speaking of friends,” Karl says, “Have you talked to Chloe recently?:

My face falls. “No, I haven’t. She won’t return my calls. I’ve pretty much given up at this point.”

“Don’t give up,” he says firmly. “Chloe will come around. If I have to, I’ll make sure of it.”

We pause outside my apartment building. There’s a silence between us, neither of us knowing what to say. But then, out of nowhere, I find myself lunging toward him. I wrap my arms around him in a tight hug, burying my face in his chest. He stiffens beneath my touch at first, clearly just as surprised as I am.

“Thank you, Karl. For everything.”

He relaxes and hugs me back, just as tightly. “You’re welcome, Abby.”

We say goodnight, and I turn to go inside, my mind whirling. Karl’s words about Chloe stick with me, echoing in my head as I near my apartment. I stop short before unlocking my door, thinking about the unfinished article, the untold stories, the depth of what we’ve all built at the restaurant.

It dawns on me: I can’t do this alone. I can’t complete this news article, can’t attend the cook-off, without my best friends by my side. I need Chloe and Leah back. No ultimatums, no win-lose situations.

Just compromise, understanding, and… family.

I turn around, my heels clicking with purpose as I head back out the building. I need to talk to Chloe; I need to fix this. One way or another, I’m going to make things right.

I march down the street toward her apartment, each step fueled by burning conviction.