Chasing His Kickass Luna Back Chapter 189

Abby

It’s the day before the Alpha party, and I feel as though I haven’t stopped running around since the sun came up. Chloe and Leah, always my biggest cheerleaders, have also been by my side since the crack of dawn.

“Abby, you should take a rest,” Leah says, gesturing for me to join her and Chloe by the bar, where they’ve poured another cup of coffee for each of us.

I sigh, tucking my clipboard under my arm. I’ve made a list of everything that needs to be done—cleaning, dusting, scrubbing, inventory, the works—and it feels like I’ve hardly even made a dent in all of it.

“But I—”

“No buts,” Chloe insists, circling around the bar to grab me by the arm and drag me over to them. “You’re taking ten.”

It seems as though I don’t have much of a choice, so I do as they say. And I hate to admit it, but it is a relief when I slide onto one of the bar stools. Leah shoves a cup of coffee in my hand as she tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“Isn’t the party management company handling the big stuff?” she asks as I take my first sip. It’s light and sweet, just the way I like it.

“Well, yeah,” I say with a sigh. “But they’re not supposed to be here for another couple of hours, and I…”

“You’re being obsessive,” Chloe interrupts, shooting me a stern look. “Abby, you’re the chef. You’re not the chef and the event organizer and the cleaner. You don’t want to exhaust yourself before the big day. You should be resting.”

Resting. I almost laugh at the word. But before I can come up with a retort, my phone rings, interrupting my thoughts. I slip it out of my pocket to see that it’s the electrician; he’s been working in the basement all morning, trying to figure out why the power went out on the night of my dinner with the judges.

We’ve had a backup generator running since then, but I’d like to know why our power suddenly went out at the exact same time a mystery wad of paper towels and other junk just so happened to clog up my pipes and create a huge mess.

“Hey, Frank,” I say, tucking my phone between the crook of my ear and my shoulder as I stir my coffee. “How’s it going down there?”

“Well,” he says in his gruff voice, a telltale sign of years of smoking, “I think I found the issue.”

I can’t help but feel a sense of relief. “Good!” I say. “What was it?”

The electrician hesitates for a moment before answering. “It looks like a line was cut in the basement.”

My heart sinks at his words. “Cut? As in, with scissors?”

I can hear the confusion in my own voice as I try to make sense of it. Even Chloe and Leah shoot me a concerned look from the other side of the bar.

“Well, it could have been an animal chewing the wire,” the electrician explains. “But the part where the wires were severed seems a little too clean for that.”

I frown, considering the implications. “But my restaurant is free of mice or anything of the sort,” I say. “I’m meticulous about that. We all are.”

The electrician sounds just as perplexed as I am. “It’s definitely strange. But, if it makes you feel any better, I’ve fixed the issue down here and you should be all set. Maybe, just to be safe, you should invest in some mouse traps and maybe change the lock on your basement door.”

“Yeah, I guess I should,” I say with a sigh, running my hand through my hair. “Thanks, Frank. Ethan paid you, right?”

“He sure did. Let me know if you have any other issues.”

The electrician and I say our goodbyes, and when I hang up, there’s a brief silence. I’m just about to voice my concerns to Chloe and Leah when the front door suddenly bangs open and a cacophony of sound envelops us, causing all three of us to jump.

We all turn, and that’s when I see it: Mr. Thompson at the forefront of a large group of people in uniforms. They’re carrying boxes of decorations, buckets of cleaning supplies, and all sorts of things that I can’t even recognize.

“Abby!” Mr. Thompson exclaims, holding his arms out as he approaches. “Good morning!”

“Er—Good morning, Mr. Thompson,” I say as I take in the sudden racket and spike in activity. “You’re—”

“I know I’m early,” he says, flashing me a grin. “But I knew you’d be here already. My team is just going to get started on the cleaning and decorating.”

“Thank god,” Chloe huffs. “We tried telling her that she didn’t need to worry about it, but she’s been running around nonstop all morning. We were worried she was gonna hurt herself.”

Mr. Thompson shoots me a sympathetic look. “Is that true?”

I sigh, realizing that I have no choice but to tell the truth, and I nod. “Yeah. I’ve been a bit of a wreck.”

He stops beside me, draping his arm around my shoulders and giving me a friendly squeeze. “Well, we’re here now,” he says. “And my team is the best of the best. They’ll have this place fit for an Alpha party in no time.”

I offer a nervous smile in return. “Thanks, Mr. Thompson. It’s just... I’m not used to letting others handle everything like this. It feels weird.”

“I know it’s not easy, Abby,” he reassures me. “But you don’t need to worry about anything except cooking.”

I take a deep breath, trying to quell my anxiety. He’s right; my passion lies in cooking, and that’s where I should channel my energy; not only to make history catering this Alpha party, but also to prove to people—mainly Logan—that I am capable, and I am passionate.

“You’re right, Mr. Thompson. I’ll make sure the food is amazing.”

Mr. Thompson nods, then reaches into his briefcase and hands me a menu. “Speaking of which, here’s the menu for tomorrow. I can’t wait to see what you come up with.”

I take the menu and glance through it, my eyes widening as I see some of the ingredients listed. They’re expensive and luxurious, not something I usually have in stock.

“Mr. Thompson, I’m not sure if I can afford—”

“Don’t worry, Abby,” Mr. Thompson interrupts with a grin. “Follow me.”

Curious, I follow Mr. Thompson out of the restaurant and see a big box truck parked nearby. Mr. Thompson leads me to the back of the truck, and when I step inside, I’m met with an incredible sight.

Huge crates of the most exquisite ingredients fill the truck, from rare spices to the freshest seafood and the finest cuts of meat. It’s a chef’s dream come true.

I’m at a loss for words, my eyes wide as I walk through the truck and run my hands along the crates of ingredients before I turn back to look at Mr. Thompson. “This... This is amazing! But how?”

Mr. Thompson chuckles. “Consider it a gift, Abby. We want the Alpha party to be a true celebration of your talent, and we spared no expense to make sure you have the best ingredients at your disposal.”

I’m overwhelmed with gratitude, my heart warmed by the support and generosity of Mr. Thompson and the Alpha team. Without thinking, I rush out of the truck and throw my arms around him. “Thank you, Mr. Thompson. This means the world to me.”

He pats me on the back with a smile. “You deserve it, Abby. Now, go back inside and focus on your preparations. Tomorrow is going to be a day to remember.”