Chasing His Kickass Luna Back

Chapter 0215

Abby

“What’s going on?” I ask Karl as we approach the restaurant, checking my watch. The lights are off and

it’s an hour before closing. “Why is it so dark?”

“Um, actually, I wanted to tell you earlier but I figured you’d rather see it firsthand,” Karl says, looking a

little embarrassed. “So, the power went out…”

My eyes widen. “You’re joking. Seriously?”

Karl nods. “Yeah. We closed the restaurant early. The electric company said it’s a power grid issue.”

I sigh and pass my hand over my face. “Geez. Alright… It’s fine, I guess. Where is everyone? I thought

you said there was a surprise.”

Nodding again, Karl gestures for me to follow. We open the front door and walk in. “They’re in the

back,” he says, clearing his throat. “Just lit some candles and ordered some pizza…”

Suddenly, the lights flick on. My eyes haven’t even adjusted to the sudden brightness when the room

erupts into cheer, and I quickly realize that this entire spiel about the electric company was completely

made up.

“Surprise!” My friends shout in chorus, their faces lit up in glee. A banner hangs above the bar, reading

‘Good Luck, Abby!’

I’m speechless, my eyes scanning over each one of their excited faces. The grins that they shoot back

at me erase any annoyance over the fake electric outage or the fact that they clearly closed the

restaurant early for this.

“You guys did this for me?”

“Of course!” Anton exclaims, emerging from the kitchen, a chef’s towel slung over his shoulder and a

tray of delectable hors d'oeuvres balancing on his hand. “It’s your big day tomorrow! How could we not

celebrate you?”

I feel tears prickling my eyes, but I blink them back. “Thank you, all of you. This means the world to

me.”

Soon enough, drinks are handed out and music begins to play. Hor d’oeuvres are served, candles are

lit, and the air becomes filled with the scent of good food and the sound of laughter. I’m sitting at one of

the tables, a wine glass in front of me, laughing at Ethan and Daisy as they argue over who gets the

last Bavarian pretzel bite.

Just then, Anton sets a dish in front of me. My eyes widen as I recognize the aroma—truffles. “Anton, is

this…?”

He grins. “Indeed. Farro mafaldine…”

“With black truffle butter,” I say with a giddy smile. I take a bite, the explosion of flavors hitting my

tongue and practically sending me to heaven. “This is divine,” I murmur. “You’ve outdone yourself as

always, Anton.”

The night carries on for a while longer. All at once, it’s going too slow and too fast. It’s hard to believe

the cook-off is tomorrow; right now, this moment feels like that’s all that exists. Just us, this restaurant,

good food, and good company. Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

Eventually, I find myself leaning over the bar while Chloe meticulously crafts three cocktails. The others

are playing an animated game of cards at one of the tables behind us. Leah is perched on a barstool

beside me, and we’ve stolen Chloe’s phone to scroll through her Tinder matches.

“Ooh, he’s cute,” Leah says, holding the phone out to show a picture of a muscular guy with a football

jersey on.

I make a face. “Ew. Football guys.

“Yeah,” Chloe adds, putting the finishing touches on the cocktails. “He was weird, too. Wouldn’t stop

talking about how he likes when girls wear a jersey and nothing else. I was like, ‘and hide my figure?

Um, I don’t think so, pal.’”

Leah and I both laugh. When the cocktails are finished, Chloe distributes them.

“How about a toast?” Chloe suggests, holding her glass up.

“Absolutely,” Leah chimes in, her face already glowing from a few drinks.

“To friendship,” I propose, lifting my glass, “and to sticking together, no matter what challenges come

our way. Salut!”

“Salut,” they both echo, clinking their glasses against mine.

The liquid is as smooth as it pours down my throat, and burns in all the right ways. I’m trying not to

drink too much tonight, but I definitely needed a little something after all of the tense moments earlier

today.