Chasing His Kickass Luna Back

Chapter 0184

“No hard feelings,” Anton adds. “Besides, you gave me the fire I needed. Every kitchen needs a little

heat, oui?”

…

The evening rush is in full swing, and I’m feeling that exhilarating mix of adrenaline and contentment

that comes from seeing the restaurant function like a well-oiled machine. The clinking of silverware, the

murmur of customers, and the sizzle from the kitchen—it’s all music to my ears.

I’m busy updating the specials on our chalkboard when Daisy rushes over, her eyes as wide as

saucers. “Abby, there’s a guy here. Says he’s a journalist? He wants to talk to you.”

My gut clenches.”A journalist? Now? Why?”

Daisy shrugs, looking just as confused as I feel. “I don’t know, but he’s asking some really specific

questions. I didn’t know what to say.”

Taking a deep breath, I put down the chalk and head to the front of the restaurant, where a man with a

five o’clock shadow and wearing a crumpled suit is flipping through a notepad. He looks up, his eyes

sharp, and extends a hand before I even have the chance to say anything.

“Richard Kohler. I’m with the Daily Dispatch. You’re Abby, right?”

“Yes, that’s me. What can I do for you?”

Richard glances around, his eyes taking in the interior of my restaurant, the pristine table settings, the

wall decor, the soft lighting. It feels like he’s trying to see through the walls, and I’m not sure if I like it.

“So, Abby, word has gotten out that you’ve hired a homeless person as a chef in your kitchen. Care to

comment?”

His tone is casual, but his eyes are predatory. Suddenly, all of this feels like one big trap.

“Yes, I hired Anton,” I say cautiously. “And he’s been an excellent addition to the team. He’s more than

qualified for the job.”

Richard scribbles something in his notebook, not breaking eye contact. “Interesting choice, don’t you

think? Hiring someone off the streets. Doesn’t that concern you, in terms of hygiene and the like?:

I feel my face flush. This guy’s getting under my skin, but I have to keep it together. “Anton is fully

certified and has been trained in food safety. He’s as professional as anyone in this industry.”

“But still, a homeless man, working with food. What will your customers think?”

My heart starts to pound in my chest. This is getting out of control. “I would hope my customers trust

my judgment. After all, the quality of the food and service speaks for itself.”

Richard raises an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied. “And what about the other staff? How do they feel

about working with someone who was, quite literally, a… street person?”

My mouth opens, but words escape me. He’s hitting me from all angles, and I can feel the room closing

in. Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.

“Alright, that's enough. Time for you to leave,” Karl says, his voice rough.

Richard looks taken aback. “Leave? I’m just doing my job. People want to know.”

“And we’ve got a job to do too. Serving customers, not entertaining tabloid journalism,” Karl retorts, his

eyes locked onto Richard’s.

As Karl escorts him out, I feel my knees nearly buckle. The thought starts to gnaw at me: What if this

ruins the reputation of the restaurant?