Chasing His Kickass Luna Back
Chapter 0274

Abby

The sun is barely up when I begin to stir, but I can't sleep any longer. Today is the day. My second chance. My redemption.

I stretch, feeling a blend of excitement and nerves course through my body. My second chance with the judges, a redemption—or another fail, depending on how things go. I'm hoping for the former. But despite everything, my heart dips as I roll over and check my phone. No new messages; I guess, in my own naive sort of way, I thought that Karl would have answered my voicemail with at least a "good luck” text, but he hasn't. Maybe my fears weren't unfounded. Maybe he really doesn't want to hear from me.

Either way, there's no time to wallow over it, no matter how much it pains me. I've got a restaurant to run, meals to cook, and judges to impress.

Leah waits for me downstairs. We fall into step alongside each other on our way to our respective workplaces, coffees in hand.

“Someone looks like she’s ready to conquer the world,” she says, a smile playing on her lips.

“I think I might be,” I admit, trying to let the excitement of the day overshadow the pang in my chest. “But it also stings a little bit. Karl never answered my voicemail.”

She heaves a sigh, a lock of hair falling across her face as she shakes her head. “If Karl doesn't want to talk, that's on him, Abby. Don't let him crawl under your skin. He's just being a sore loser because he couldn't win you back.”

I mull over her words, watching as a little bird hops along the pavement. “You're right,” I say, taking a sip of my coffee. “l won't let it rattle me.”

Leah nods. “That's the spirit. Remember, today is about you: your talent, your hard work. Nothing else.”

Her words make me smile. We walk in companionable silence for a little while longer before another confession bubbles up, this time more excited than the last. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the FɪndNøvel.ɴᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“I bought a dress.”

"A dress?” Leah's eyebrow quirks.

"Yeah, for the Alpha party,” I continue, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. “Just in case I get a chance to leave the kitchen and... you know, mill around a bit. It's a really sexy one, too.”

Her response is an instant brightness. “Abby! That's fantastic! You're going to kill it.”

A laugh escapes my lips. “Yeah, I hope 50.”

But then Leah's smile softens, a knowing look in her eyes. “Are you doing this for yourself, or to show Karl what he’s missing?”

I freeze mid-step, the question striking a chord. Did I? The thought has crossed my mind, more than once, the image of his reaction. I look away, fixing my gaze on a blooming flower display in a shop window.

“I just... wanted to buy myself a pretty dress,” I say finally, although the words sound hollow even to me.

Leah reaches out, her hand gently squeezing my arm. “Good,” she says simply. “Because you deserve it, Abby. For you.”

As we approach the restaurant, Leah veers off toward her own job. “Knock “em dead, Chef,” she says with a wink.

We wave goodbye and I head inside. The kitchen doesn't feel so much like a battleground anymore as I grab my chef's jacket and get to work.

But Leah's question lingers in my mind as the morning stretches on. The dress, hanging in my closet, is stunning—it makes me feel like a princess.

But did I really buy the dress just for me?

“We're ahead of schedule, Abby. The lamb’s marinating, the herbs are chopped, and everything's prepped for the day.”

John’s words make me grin. It's already two PM, and today couldn't be going any better. I nod, stepping away from the line.

"Good. I'm just gonna be practicing my dishes for tonight one last time before the judges come. Let me know if you need anything.”

John nods, and we go our separate ways. But it's not long that I'm working at my station when I hear it—the sound that no business owner ever wants to hear.

A bang, a pop, and then... rushing water.

I whirl around and the sight makes my heart sink. Water is spewing from a burst pipe beneath the sink with so much force that the floor is already beginning to flood. No, it's not just coming from beneath the sink; it's coming through the wall, too, all around the sink. It must be at least two burst pipes.

But how?

"What the—?!" My words dissolve into the chaos as the kitchen staff springs into action.

“Shut off the water!” I yell over the din.

Anton dashes for the main valve as I wade through the water, which is already soaking into my shoes. The cold seeps in, but it's the panic that's really chilling. Today of all days, this can’t be happening.

But maybe, just maybe, I can salvage this. It's just a couple of burst pipes, right? I've dealt with worse. Way worse.

Time seems to slow. Anton finally makes contact with the main water valve, but it does nothing, no matter how many times he turns the spigot. John races back and forth, barking orders at the servers. Towels are thrown down onto the floor, but it doesn’t matter. The kitchen is still flooding, and there's no stopping it.

And then, it gets even worse. The power goes out.

The restaurant falls into a hush, punctuated by the sound of rushing water and the valve squeaking as Anton continues to turn it. I'm left frozen to my spot, my eyes still adjusting to the dark.

"Abby?" John's voice calls out through the darkness. “What on earth...?"

Finally, the water stops. I can hear Anton's voice as he lets out a deep sigh. “Well, the water is off, but Abby, I am afraid we're standing in the Atlantic Ocean as we speak.”

“Yeah, I know."

As my eyes still adjust, I fumble my way over to the supply cabinet, my shoes soaking through all the way to my socks. The confused murmurs of the customers in the dining area are now carrying through to the kitchen, and by the time I manage to find the spare flashlight and flick it on, my staff are standing around me like deer in headlights.

"What should we do?” Ethan asks, his eyes wide.

I sigh, feeling my heart sink. The entire kitchen floor is sopping wet, the pipe is still dripping, and the power is out. Why did this have to happen today, out of all days? And why all at once?

"Comp everyone's food,” I tell Ethan as I sweep over the kitchen with the flashlight. “And send everyone home. It's not safe to have guests in here right now.”

Ethan nods and limps away, his shoes splashing through the water, but Anton and John remain. “Abby, what about the judges?” John asks, his voice barely more than a whisper.

That's when it hits me finally, and my blood runs cold as the realization washes over me. The judges. How the hell am I supposed to prepare the meal now?!

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