Chapter 0259
Chapter 0259
Chloe nods emphatically. “Leah is right. You can'’ let one setback define you. And you were amazing at
the cook-off, despite the mishaps. You have a gift, Abby.”
I shrug, avoiding their gazes as I take a sip of my coffee. “Maybe. But right now, I really am enjoying
the managerial work. It’s less... chaotic. And I could use a little less chaos right now.” Owned by NôvelDrama.Org.
“We just don’t want to see you give up on something you’re passionate about,” Chloe says, reaching
for a croissant. “Not because of what happened or because of... Karl.”
The mention of his name like that makes my breath hitch. “I’m not giving up. I’m just exploring other
parts of the business. And Karl has nothing to do with this decision.”
Leah gives me a sympathetic look. “You don’t have to put on a brave face for us, Abby. We’re your
friends. We’re allowed to worry about you.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “I know,” I murmur, “and I love you both for it. But really,
I’m happy with where things are right now.”
Chloe’s gaze is piercing, and for a moment, I’m afraid she’ll see right through me like she did two
weeks ago.
But she simply nods. “If you’re sure... But we’re here for you, no matter what. And this doesn’t mean
the end of your culinary career. You could always come back to it when you’re ready.”
I nod, gripping my coffee cup a little tighter. “Exactly,” I said. “I just need some time. That’s all.”
…
It’s well past noon, and I’m fully immersed in a towering stack of paperwork. Inventory, supply orders,
performance reviews, invoicing, payroll… All of it. It’s hellishly boring and tedious, but I’ve become
used to it over the past few weeks.
Suddenly, however, there’s a knock on my office door.
“Come in,” I call out without looking up, expecting one of the servers with a minor crisis that’s easily
solved from the confines of my desk.
But the door opens and instead, it’s John who stands in front of me. “Abby, could you come and check
on something in the kitchen?”
I feel the color drain from my face, my heartbeat quickening at the thought of crossing that threshold
again. “I-I can't, John,” I murmur, gesturing to the piles of papers on my desk. “Sorry. I’m swamped right
now.”
He frowns. “But it’s about the braising technique for the short ribs—”
“I think Anton can handle that,” I cut in, maybe a little too quickly. “He’s been doing a great job, don’t
you think?”
John’s brows furrow ever so slightly, and I can tell he’s not convinced. “Um… Okay, sure,” he says,
though his tone suggests that there’s more he wants to say. “I’ll ask Anton, then.”
Annoyance instantly flares up in me as I picture John or Anton standing outside the door, poised to
burst in here and drag me to the kitchen. New chąpter avаilable oո Drąмanоvеls.cоm
“I’m busy!” I call out, more harshly than I mean to.
But the door swings open regardless, and there he stands.
My eyes widen. “Mr. Thompson?”