Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

Abby
Vanessa walks up to me, her heels clicking softly on the tile floor. The room
slowly begins to pick up its volume again, but I feel lost in a giant void.
“Are you okay, Abby?” Vanessa asks, her voice pulling me back to the present.
“I-I’m fine,” I murmur, although the words feel like a complete and utter lie. “I’m
sorry. I didn’t mean to cause a scene.” I glance at Karl, who’s standing a few
feet away, watching intently.
Vanessa smiles, a soft, empathetic curve of her lips that immediately puts me at
ease. “Don’t be sorry. The culinary world isn’t exactly a bed of roses for women,
you know? We’re already at a disadvantage just by being female chefs.”
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“That shouldn’t be the case,” I find myself saying, a hint of bitterness in my
voice. “Skill and talent should be what matters, not gender.”
Vanessa nods, her eyes meeting mine with a look that speaks volumes. “You’re

absolutely right. But sometimes the world doesn’t operate the way it should.”
She hesitates for a moment, as though contemplating whether to continue, then
seems to make a decision. “Let me tell you a story.”
She leans against a nearby table, crossing her arms as she gathers her
thoughts. “Years ago, when I was climbing my way up the ladder, there was a
male chef—I’ll call him Mark—who couldn’t stand me. Not because I was better
or worse than him in the kitchen, mind you, but simply because I was a woman.
And a black woman at that.”
“That’s horrible,” I say, my heart sinking at the thought of facing such blatant
discrimination.
“Oh, but that’s not even the beginning of it,” Vanessa says, her voice taking on a
grim tone.
“One night, during a critical review from a food critic, Mark sabotaged my dish.
He swapped the fresh herbs I’d prepped with ones that had turned, ruining the
entire dish. The critic got sick. It was a whole thing.”

“Oh, no,” I gasp. “Did he get away with it?”
Vanessa nods. “He did. At the time, nobody believed that he could do something
so petty, and I didn’t have the evidence to prove it. No one wanted to listen to
me, the black female chef. I was a nobody, a woman in a male-dominated field.
But you know what? In the end, it didn’t matter.”
“How can it not matter?” The words tumble out before I can stop them. “He
sabotaged your career!”
“And you know why?” she continues, her voice softer now but no less intense.
“Because I didn’t let his petty actions define me. I defined myself, through hard
work, resilience, and a refusal to be put in a box just because of my gender and
my race.” Cotent of Drаmаovels.cоm
I’m on the verge of tears, but I’m able to fight them back thanks to the strength I
see in Vanessa’s eyes and the conviction I hear in her voice.