Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 49: Up Late

Abby

The morning sun bathes my office in a gentle glow as I dial Leah’s number, eager to discuss Chloe’s

upcoming birthday.

The phone rings a few times before Leah’s raspy voice picks up on the other end.

“Abby? That you?”

“Leah, hey,” I greet, trying to hide my concern. “You sound terrible. What’s up?”

She lets out a congested laugh. “Caught a nasty cold. I’m in bed, sipping on some horrid chicken soup.

Can’t believe I’m missing all the action.”

“That’s terrible,” I answer. “I was hoping you could help with Chloe’s party prep.”

A pause ensues, and I hear Leah sigh. “I wish I could, Abby. I had so many ideas, but right now I can

barely lift my head off the pillow.”

I let out a quiet chuckle, trying to keep the mood light. “Don’t worry about it. Just rest up and get better,

okay? We’ll need you at the party in top form.”

“What about the cake? I know you were keen on baking Chloe’s favorite, the red velvet one.”

“I’ve got it covered,” I assure her. “And the party details too. It’s a lot, but I can handle it.”

“You sure?” Leah sounds skeptical.

“It’s no big deal,” I reply, although a nagging feeling at the back of my mind suggests otherwise.

“Alright, if you say so. Just promise you won’t burn out.”

“I promise,” I say, although the weight of responsibility is already settling in my chest. “Oh, and I’ll be

over later to bring you some chicken soup that’s not horrid, okay?”

After ending the call, I immediately switch tasks, reaching for my phone again to book a karaoke place

for the party.

The man on the other end, Mr. Lin, sounds elderly, his voice raspy but jovial.

“Lin’s Karaoke. How can I help you?”

“Hello, Mr. Lin, I’d like to rent one of your rooms for a private party,” I begin, but before I can finish, the

door to my office swings open, revealing Chloe, looking puzzled.

“Abby, do you have a minute?” she asks, her eyes darting to the various party notes strewn across my

desk.

“Um,” I falter, my attention divided between Chloe and Mr. Lin. “Just a sec,” I tell him and turn my

attention to Chloe. “What’s up?”

She hesitates, her gaze fixed on my flustered expression. “I had a question about the bar, but if you’re

busy—”

Panicking, not wanting to raise her suspicions further, I quickly interrupt Mr. Lin, “I’m sorry, can I call

you back?” I hang up without waiting for his reply.

Chloe narrows her eyes, her curiosity evident. “Who was that?”

I attempt a casual shrug, trying to push down the guilt. “Oh, just a supplier. Nothing urgent. What did

you need?”

She looks unconvinced, but she proceeds with her query about the bar. As we talk, I can’t help but feel

her eyes on my desk, scanning the various notes and lists. Her eyes stop on the corner of a sketch

peeking out from under a pile of papers—the design for her birthday cake.

“What’s that?” she asks, pointing at the sketch.

Without thinking, I grab the paper and stuff it into my pocket. “Oh, just some doodles. You know how I

get when I’m brainstorming.”

Chloe squints, clearly skeptical but doesn’t press further. “Alright. Well, I’ll leave you to your…

brainstorming.” She smirks, retreating from my office.

As the door shuts behind her, I sink into my chair, heart pounding. I pull out the cake sketch, staring at

the intricate design I’d spent hours perfecting. The close calls are becoming too frequent, and the risk

of Chloe discovering everything grows with each passing moment.

Letting out a deep sigh, I consider my options. There’s no way I can continue planning during regular

hours with Chloe around. Every single detail could potentially blow the surprise.

Decision made, I grab my bag and start stowing away the various party-planning materials. If I’m going

to pull off this surprise, I’ll have to stay late, work in the quiet hours when there’s less chance of Chloe

walking in on me.

Gazing at the darkening sky outside, I steel myself for the long night ahead. The task seems daunting,

but for Chloe’s smile on her birthday, it’ll be worth it.

…

In the dim light of my cluttered office, I sit hunched over a desk piled high with sc ttered papers,

receipts, and a half-finished cake design.

The soft hum of the overhead light is the only sound accompanying my scribbles. The large clock on

the wall informs me that it’s past midnight, but sleep is a distant luxury, and Chloe’s upcoming birthday

weighs heavy on my mind.

The restaurant, usually abuzz with patrons and staff, feels eerily quiet now, save for the occasional

clatter from the kitchen.

A framed picture of Chloe and me rests beside my workstation, our grinning faces captured during a

sunlit day at a music festival. The warmth and laughter from that day feels a world apart from the cool,

sterile atmosphere of my office.

Lost in my thoughts, I’m jolted back to reality when a paperclip drops from the heap, clinking softly

against the wooden floor. I retrieve it, my fingers brushing against the intricate rug beneath my desk—a

gift from Chloe after one of her overseas trips. Everything in this room reminds me of her in some way.

Tearing my gaze away, I refocus on the list of party essentials. String lights, floral centerpieces, napkins

in her favorite shade of sea blue… Every detail counts. The looming pressure of making everything

perfect becomes a tangible weight on my chest.

The last time we celebrated together, the surprise was spoiled. I won’t let that happen again. And it’s

her twenty-fifth birthday, so it’s a bit of a milestone. I want it to be special.

A distant clang echoes from the kitchen, followed by a muted conversation.

Curiosity piqued, I stand and stretch, my muscles protesting from hours of inactivity. As I step into the

hallway, the smell of lemon scented cleaner wafts toward me. The restaurant’s aged wooden floors,

polished to a shine, reflect the ambient lighting from overhead chandeliers.

“Hello? Who’s here?” I call out as I approach the kitchen, spotting a silhouette moving about.

Karl emerges, wiping his hands on a cloth.

“It’s just me,” he responds, looking surprised to see me. The stainless-steel backdrop of the kitchen

makes his tanned skin and dark hair stand out even more.

“What are you doing here so late?” I ask, trying to keep the weariness from my voice.

He shrugs, glancing towards the line of prepped stations. “Just wanted to give the kitchen floors a good

scrub.”

I’m a bit surprised. “Wow. Thanks, Karl. You’ve been a great help,” I admit, glancing around at the

spotless kitchen. “You can head home, though. I appreciate you staying late.”

Karl, leaning against the kitchen island, raises an eyebrow. “What about you? Don’t you think you

should call it a night?”

I sigh heavily, running a hand through my disheveled hair. “I’d love to, but I can’t. Not with so much left

to do.”

We lapse into silence, the soft hum of the refrigerator filling the void. Karl’s eyes scan the room, taking

in the sca ttered ingredients, the party planning notes, and finally resting on me. “You’re doing this for

Chloe, aren’t you? The whole surprise birthday bash?”

My eyes widen. “How did you know?”

He chuckles. “You think you’re the only one who noticed the extra glitter on the napkins and the

overabundance of party supplies? Plus, I caught Chloe snooping around the back earlier. Had to divert

her attention with some made-up tale about a corporate event next week.”

My heart sinks. “She was that close to finding out?”

“Yep,” Karl confirms. “She’s clever. You’ve got your work cut out for you.”

Overwhelmed, I slump into a nearby chair. “This is all becoming too much. Between managing the

restaurant and planning this, I’m running on empty.”

Karl studies me for a moment, concern evident in his gaze. “You know, Abby, you don’t have to do it all

by yourself.”

“It’s Chloe’s birthday,” I retort, defensive, “I want it to be perfect. She’s my best friend.”

“And it will be,” he assures. “But sometimes, seeking help can make things even better. And well…

healthier for you.”

I frown, not liking the implication. “Are you saying I can’t handle it?”

He holds up his hands, placating. “Not at all. Just… you should take a break.”

I sigh and run a hand through my hair. “Thanks, but I’m good,” I finally say. “See you tomorrow.”

I turn to leave, but before I can, Karl’s hand wraps itself around my arm and stops me. There’s a tense

silence as I slowly turn back to face him, my cheeks flushing red as I realize how close we’re standing

bin

to one another.

Karl finally breaks the silence. “Let me help, Abby.”

I look up, taken aback. “You… want to help?”