Chasing His Kickass Luna Back

Abby

It’s been a few days since Anton first stepped into my restaurant, and already Anton is fitting in perfectly

with the team.

That morning when I walked into the restaurant, not knowing whether I had been taken for a fool or not,

now seems so distant. Anton and John are running like a well-oiled machine, and the customers have

never been happier. I’ve decided that today, at the end of the day, I’m going to offer Anton a full-time

position here.

“Abby, table six wants to know if we can make the duck confit gluten-free?” Daisy asks me.

“We can do that. Just make sure to mention it might take a bit longer,” I reply, jotting down an order for the

kitchen staff.

Enter title…

Daisy pauses, and I sense she’s gearing up for something more than a simple question about dietary

restrictions. “Hey, um, I just wanted to say, Anton’s pretty awesome, isn’t he?”

I glance toward the kitchen, where Anton is in full chef-mode, effortlessly instructing John on how to sear a

filet to perfection. His transformation still surprises me—a clean-shaven man in crisp chef whites, as if the

person who first walked into my restaurant was a distant relative and not the same man.

I smile. “Yeah, he is. How’s he fitting in with everyone?”

Daisy grins. “I know it’s only been a few days, but we all really like him. He’s so friendly, and such a

gentleman, too. I’m glad that he’s a part of our little family now.”

Daisy’s words make me grin. “That’s fantastic to hear, Daisy. I’m really glad you feel that way.”

As if on cue, Karl walks out of the stockroom, his arms laden with bags of flour that seem like they weigh

nothing to him. At first, Karl and Anton were like oil and water.

I was surprised that Karl was even willing to entertain the idea of letting Anton work here, let alone going

so far as to pay for Anton’s lodging. But these past few days, I think that has changed.

“Karl, can you put those down for a sec?” I catch his eye, and he obliges, dropping the bags onto a nearby

table with a quizzical look on his face.

“What’s up?”

“There’s something I think you should do,” I say, glancing back at Anton, who is at the moment engrossed

in a playful argument with Daisy over the correct pronunciation of ‘croissant’.

Karl arches an eyebrow. “And what would that be?”

I nod my head toward Anton. “An apology, maybe?”

Karl looks confused for a second, then his eyes soften with realization. “Ah, right. The whole ‘chasing him

away like a stray dog’ incident.”

I nod. “Exactly.”

Karl blinks at me for a few moments as though he’s about to refuse my request, maybe even tell me that

he’s done enough by paying for Anton’s lodging. But he doesn’t.