Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

Abby
It’s been raining cats and dogs all morning, but I’m too excited to care. All I can
think about is the anticipation buzzing in my chest as I make my way up the
walkway to the upscale studio where the interviews for the cook-off are being
held.
“Hello,” I say from under my umbrella to a security guard leaning against a post,
looking bored. “Is this the right entrance for the interviews?”
“Yup,” he says, nodding, and gestures to a set of double doors behind him.
“Head in there, take a left, and follow the hallway to the end.”
“Thank you.”
Enter title...
As I step through the doors, my heart rises into my throat. It’s all I can do to
swallow it and force my feet to carry me forward.
I’ve never been on television before. This is going to be both exciting and

terrifying, and probably more terrifying than the former. But, thankfully, I’ve
arrived early and I feel prepared. I’ve spent the past week practicing for my
questions, and I have my answers ready to go. All that’s left now is to get this
interview over with, and then tomorrow is the cook-off.
The cook-off.
I can’t believe it’s already almost here. In less than twenty-four hours, I’ll be
walking into another television studio where I’ll be competing in front of a live
audience. Am I just as prepared for that as I am for this interview?
I really, really hope so.
But at the same time, aside from the interview and the cook-off, there’s another
knot of dread forming in my stomach—this time, thanks to Karl.
He’ll be leaving after tomorrow, only returning in a few weeks for the Alpha party,
and then leaving again.
I think, in a weird way, I took his presence for granted. I feel a little selfish
because of that. All this time, he’s been putting aside his extremely important

Alpha duties for me. And I have so much to show for it. But what does he have?
Wasted time? I hope it’s been more than that for him, but I have no way of
knowing.
Suddenly, I’m pulled back to reality. Crisp lighting, a monochrome palette, and a
faint scent of hairspray fill the air as I walk down the hall, my heels clicking on
the marble floor—everything about it screams professionalism.
I’m then greeted by an assistant and directed to a waiting area that looks more
like a beauty salon, complete with hair and makeup stations.
I glance around and spot the three other contestants—a tall, rugged man with a
European air about him, an older-looking man who doesn’t even glance my way,
and an impeccably dressed man with black hair and a disdainful expression that
seems glued to his face. They’re both in the process of having their hair done,
and a makeup artist waits nearby.
I sit in the empty chair next to the black-haired man introducing myself with a
polite smile. “Hi, I’m Abby,” I say, holding my hand out.
“Daniel,” he says, holding his hand out without lifting his gaze from the
magazine in his lap. I shake it, feeling all too awkward as his hand practically
crushes mine. When I pull away, I feel oddly violated in a strange sort of way.
I clear my throat. “Nice to meet you. I’m the owner of La Belle Vie Bistro in
town.”

My eyebrows shoot up involuntarily. “You mean Anton? Yes, he’s an incredible
chef.”
Daniel chuckles as if I’ve just affirmed something he’s been suspecting. “I’m
sure he is. But cleanliness is also crucial in the kitchen, don’t you think?”
“And you are...?” I ask politely, leaning forward a bit to meet his gaze.