Chasing His Kickass Luna Back

Abby

The atmosphere shifts as our arms untangle. We’re all a little teary-eyed, but none of us say it. Instead,

Chloe reaches for a tissue from the box on her coffee table, and holds it out for me.

“Well, I didn’t expect this tonight,” Leah says, sniffling.

“Yeah, me neither,” Chloe says, dabbing at her eyes too. She looks at me, her gaze still soft but

punctuated by a new intensity. “But I just have one more thing to say: it can’t always be this easy, Abby.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, bracing myself.

Chloe seems to choose her words carefully as she speaks. “I need to know you’re serious about what you

said. Karl gets one more chance, Abby. One. If he messes up again, and you keep giving him the time of

day, then—”

Enter title…

She doesn’t finish, but she doesn’t need to. “I get it,” I say quietly, locking eyes with her. “And thank you.

Thank you for giving me another chance, too.”

Chloe nods, her l*ps twitching into a reluctant smile. “Well, someone’s gotta keep you on your toes, right?”

“Speak for yourself,” Leah chimes in, picking up her wine glass from the coffee table. “Keeping both of you

in check is like my full-time job at this point.”

A ripple of laughter goes through us, as if the pressure has been released. We settle into Chloe’s plush

sofas, the soft cushions embracing us like an old friend. Chloe refills our wine glasses, and we toast.

“To friendship,” Leah says, lifting her glass higher.

“To all it’s messiness,” Chloe adds.

“And to understanding,” I finish.

…

As Chloe and I walk through the front door of the restaurant, I feel lighter. It’s a new day, both

metaphorically and literally.

“Chloe! Welcome back!” Daisy exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air.

Chloe grins, genuinely happy. “It’s good to be back, Daisy.”

“Everything’s been dull without you,” Daisy jokes with a wink, even though it’s been anything but.

But then, I feel a sudden tension coil in the air. I glance towards the kitchen’s swinging door just as Karl

steps out. His eyes lock onto Chloe’s for a moment, and I can practically feel the static between them.

Here it comes.

Then, in a move that leaves me speechless, Chloe walks up to him and extends her hand. “Karl.”

Karl hesitates, then takes her hand, shaking it firmly. They exchange a few inaudible words; Chloe

whispers something into his ear. He nods, almost imperceptibly, before breaking away and heading back

to the kitchen.

“What the hell was that?” I ask Chloe as she returns to my side.

She smirks. “Oh, nothing. Just a little warning.”

I roll my eyes but can’t contain my grin. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

“But you love me for it,” she counters, winking.

The day flies by in a flurry of orders, invoices, and brief exchanges with staff. I almost forget about the

morning’s events. But then there’s a knock on my office door, and I look up to find Karl leaning against the

frame.

“Got a sec?” he asks.

“Sure. What’s up?”

He walks in and hands me a piece of paper with a name and phone number scribbled on it. “This

journalist, Alex, is super interested in covering the restaurant for you.”

I take the paper from him, somewhat surprised. “Thanks, Karl. You didn’t have to do that.”

He nods, offering a half-smile. “Just doing my part. Gotta get you some good press, right?”

As he leaves the office, I dial the number. My pulse races a little; I can’t believe I’m nervous about this.

“Hello, this is Alex,” the female voice says from the other end.

“Hi, Alex, this is Abby from La Belle Vie Bistro. I heard you were interested in writing a piece on us.”

“Abby? I’m so glad you called!”

The excitement in Alex’s voice is contagious. “Great! Would you like to come in tonight, get a feel for the

place?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Alex says.

…

That evening, as the restaurant buzzes with the dinner crowd’s lively chatter, Chloe leans over the bar and

grins at me. “You seem pleased. Did Karl actually come through for once?”

I chuckle. “You could say that. But let’s not jinx it.”

“Agreed,” she says, flashing a mischievous grin before heading back to mixing drinks.

Right on cue, the door chimes, and a young woman with curly brown hair holding a notepad and wearing

an inquisitive smile on her face walks in. Alex, presumably.

“Abby?” she says, extending her hand.

“That’s me,” I say, shaking it.

“This is quite the place.” Alex pauses, looking around. “How long have you been in business?”

“Just a couple of years,” I respond. “Hopefully many more.”

Alex smiles. With that, she launches into her routine; trusting Karl’s judgment, I give her free rein of the

floor to interview the staff, and she makes a beeline for Daisy.

“You’re Daisy, right?”

“Yep. That’s me!”