Chasing His Kickass Luna Back

Chapter 0288

Abby

The silence in the room is thick with tension as we wait for Logan’s verdict.

Vanessa’s and Xavier’s praises still echo in the back of my mind, but it’s Logan’s opinion that really

seems to hold the weight of the world. I can’t explain why, but it somehow feels as though Logan’s

opinion holds more sway than the others’; or maybe that’s just how it feels to me, seeing as how slow

he is to dole out praise, just like Professor Hawthorne all those years ago.

Without warning, Karl’s hand finds my knee under the table. It’s a brief touch, but it grounds me. I don’t

pull away, not yet.

Vanessa’s voice is soothing as she picks up on the tension and fills the silence, taking another bite of

her souffle. “Really, Abby, it’s exquisite,” she says with a warm smile.

Xavier nods in agreement. “Definitely. I might just need to ask you to make a few more of these for me

to bring home. My wife and daughter would be angry if I didn’t share.”

I laugh in response, but it’s a hollow sound. Nothing will feel right until I hear what Logan has to say,

and I hope beyond all hope that it’s more than just ‘it’s fine’ again.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Logan leans back in his chair and looks poised to speak. His

gaze lifts to meet mine, and there’s something new in his eyes that I haven’t seen before. He looks less

cold now, but only ever so slightly.

“Good job, Abby,” he says with a curt nod. “I have to say, I’m more impressed than I was at the cook-

off.”

The relief that floods through me is almost dizzying, but his words aren’t a complete balm. There’s still

an underlying tension there that gives me pause.

“Really?” I ask, my voice wavering slightly.

Logan nods again. “Yes, really. Overall, I’d give tonight a seven out of ten.”

Seven out of ten? I repeat the number in my head. That should be good, right?

But it doesn’t feel good. I poured my heart and soul into tonight. A seven out of ten is good, but not

good enough. Not for me. I try to keep my expression neutral and professional, but inside, my thoughts

whirl around like a tornado.

“That’s… Thank you, Logan. I appreciate your feedback,” I manage to say, even though the words feel

hollow.

He nods, a ghost of a smile on his lips, and then leans forward again with his elbows on the table. “Of

course, I’ll need to spend the night considering my final verdict. Whether or not you’re fit to cater the

Alpha party.”

“Yes,” Vanessa says, nodding along with him. “Of course. We should all discuss this privately before we

can make our final decision. I hope you can understand, Abby.”

I nod. “Absolutely. It’s an important event to be catered. Take all of the time you need.”

There’s a moment of silence in the room as Logan’s words linger in the back of my mind. Seven out of

ten. It’s a good score, isn’t it? Yet why does it feel like a failure rather than a victory?

“Would you like some coffee?” I find myself asking, more out of a need to break the tension than

anything else.

“That would be lovely, Abby,” Vanessa says, and Xavier agrees with a nod. Logan, of course, says

nothing, but also makes no motion to leave.

I stand, my legs a little unsteady, and make my way to the kitchen after gathering the empty dishes. I

can feel Karl’s eyes on me, and I wish I knew what was going through his mind.

Once in the kitchen, I take a deep breath. My exhale is shaky, and suddenly I feel like a teenager in

culinary school again, held to a higher standard than the rest of the class.

Why seven? Why not eight, or nine? Or was that giving myself too much credit?

Logan hadn’t hated it, that was clear, but he hadn’t loved it either. That’s fine; I don’t expect everyone to

adore my food. But why wouldn’t he just give me some comments, some critique, anything?

Instead, he had given no specifics, nothing I could use to improve my skills. Just that he was ‘more

impressed than he was at the cook-off.’ And that the meal was a seven out of ten. Nothing more, like a

swift jab to my gut.

I lean against the counter, my eyes closing for a moment. This is out of my hands now, I quickly realize.

I did the best I could. Now, all I can do is wait for the coffee to brew..

And wash the dishes.

The clinking of dishes is the only sound as I scrub and rinse, my hands moving automatically. I;m

barely present in the task, my mind replaying every moment from the meal.

The voices from the other room are muffled, but oddly grounding. Karl is entertaining the judges while

they wait, and I’m grateful he’s here. I’ll definitely need to make all of this up to him later, as soon as I

have the chance.

That’s when I sense it—a shift in the air. I’m not alone anymore, and somehow, I know exactly who it is.

Logan.

I keep my back to him for a moment longer than necessary, gathering my thoughts, steadying my

breath. Then I turn. He’s standing in the doorway, his wine glass in hand.

“Hi, Logan. Can I get you anything?” I ask, forcing my voice to remain steady.

“I decided I’d rather have a little more wine than coffee, if you don’t mind,” he says, holding his glass NôvelD(ram)a.ôrg owns this content.

up.

Finally, I can’t stand it anymore. I set the bottle down, my hands gripping the edge of the counter. “Can

I ask you something, Logan?”

Logan sips his wine, his eyes meeting mine over the rim of the glass. “Certainly.”

I take a deep breath, my words rushing out before I can stop them. “Why do you seem to dislike me? Is

it something I did?”

“Abby, I—”

“I’m sorry,” I say, shaking my head as the realization of my own ridiculousness finally crosses my mind.

“I… I don’t mean to be rude.”

And then he speaks, his voice softer this time. But there’s a tiny hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of

his lips as he does.

“Hasn’t your sous chef told you already?” he asks.