Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 54: Cookoff?!

Abby bin

“This… Isn’t a prank, right?”

Even as I utter those words, I feel like an idiot. But I can’t help myself; I just can’t wrap my head around

this whole situation. My little restaurant was chosen as one of four finalists for the Alpha gathering out

of all of the amazing restaurants in the city?

The rich timbre of Calvin’s chuckle fills the room. “A prank? No, ma’am, this is as real as it gets. But, I’d

advise you not to pop the champagne just yet.”

I raise an eyebrow, my heart still pounding hard. “Why’s that?”

“The selection process requires a cook-off,” he explains. “Each of the four chosen restaurants will

compete to showcase their culinary prowess. Based on this, we’ll decide which establishment will have

the honor of catering for the Alpha gathering. It will be quite rigorous.”

The gravity of the competition he’s describing does little to dampen my excitement. This is an incredible

opportunity, and even just being considered feels like a massive win. “So, what you’re saying is that

there’s a chance, even if it’s one in four?”

“Exactly. And considering the caliber of dishes you serve here, I’d say you stand a good chance.”

Calvin’s smile is enigmatic, but it’s clear he’s not just trying to flatter me. “If you accept our offer to

participate, I’ll make sure all the details and requirements are sent to you ASAP.”

A whirlwind of thoughts race through my mind. The dishes I’d prepare, the strategies I’d employ, the

possible reactions of the judges. But even amidst this rush, the answer is clear.

“Of course I accept,” I say, my voice firm and decisive.

“Excellent. I believed you would,” Calvin nods, pulling out a sleek card from his pocket and placing it on

my desk. “This is my direct contact. Should you have any questions or need clarification, don’t hesitate

to reach out.”

I take the card, the cool, smooth texture a stark contrast to the warmth of my fingers. “Thank you, Mr.

Thompson. I won’t let you down.”

A glint appears in his eyes. “I’m counting on it.” With that, he rises, the action smooth and full of a quiet

grace that makes me all the more aware of the significance of this meeting.

After he leaves, the weight of what’s just transpired hits me.

The room suddenly feels too silent, too still. I gently shut the door and then, unable to contain the surge

of excitement, lean back in my chair, covering my face with both hands. A m uffled yell of pure,

unadulterated joy escapes my lips.

It’s more than just an opportunity. It’s a validation of every sacrifice I’ve made, every late night I’ve

endured, every ounce of passion I’ve poured into this establishment. Winning this cook-off would do

more than just garner business. It would be the realization of a dream, a testament to the love I have

for the culinary arts.

The idea of my restaurant’s name being spoken in the same breath as the city’s elites, the increased

footfall, the credibility—the implications are heady.

But more than that, it’s the recognition. Every chef, every restaurateur dreams of being acknowledged

for their craft. And this? This is as big as it gets.

Even though the road ahead is uncertain, even though the competition will be stiff, this moment, this

opportunity feels golden. It feels like the universe’s way of telling me that every challenge I faced, every

hurdle I overcame, was leading up to this.

The stakes are high, yes. But the thrill? The thrill is unparalleled.

Adrenaline pumping through me, I burst into the bar area. Ethan and Chloe are engaged in what looks

to be an amusing chat, judging by their smiles. But all that is forgotten as I dramatically slam both

hands on the bar counter, grabbing their attention.

“You guys! You will not believe what just happened in my office!” I nearly shout, my voice an octave

higher than usual. The sheer excitement makes it difficult to control my volume.

Ethan’s grin fades to an expression of curiosity while Chloe’s eyes widen. “What is it, Abby?”

Without pausing for a breath, I recount my meeting with Calvin. “We’ve been chosen as one of the

finalists to cater for the Alpha gathering! There’s going to be a cook-off and everything!” I can barely

contain the elation bubbling within me.

The pair’s expressions morph from surprise to pure shock. “Are you serious?” Ethan gasps, his blue

eyes searching my face for any sign of jest.

Chloe’s eyes sparkle with shared excitement. “Oh my Go d, Abby!” She squeals, wrapping her arms

around me in a tight embrace. The warmth of her hug only adds to the fuzzy happiness that engulfs

me.

“I’m so, so proud of you!” she gushes, pulling away but holding my shoulders at arm’s length, looking at

me as though she’s seeing me for the first time.

Ethan clears his throat, a playful tw inkle in his eye. “Do I get a hug, too?”

Laughing, I envelope him in a hug, his lanky frame bending to accommodate mine. “Of course, you do,”

I mumble against his chest. Pulling back, I add, “I’m going to need all hands on deck. This could

change everything for us!”

“We’re with you every step of the way,” Ethan promises, his tone sincere. “Whatever you need, Abby.”

A cacophony of clinking dishes and muted conversation from the kitchen is momentarily overshadowed

by the sound of a door swinging open.

From the corner of my eye, I spot Karl, clad in his bandana and t-shirt, striding into the dining area. His

brow is furrowed, presumably from the loud commotion we were causing.

He takes in the scene, confusion evident in his gaze.

“What’s going on? Why’s everyone huddled here?”

My heart does a little flip, and I’m instantly transported back to our stolen moment in the dim kitchen

last night.

The sensation of his lips, his breath against my skin, and the electricity between us makes my cheeks

flush. The very thought of looking into his eyes threatens to unravel me. I quickly glance down,

desperately hoping to regain some semblance of composure.

Chloe, ever the keen observer, smirks ever so slightly. “You gonna tell him or should I?” she teases,

nodding towards Karl.

Gathering up every ounce of courage I possess, I lift my gaze to meet his. His brown eyes are filled

with curiosity, but there’s also a hint of… concern? It makes it all the more difficult to breathe, but I force

myself to speak.

“I… Um…”

I’m about to tell him everything when it suddenly hits me: I promised to go to the Alpha gathering with

him, and if I were to win this competition, then catering the event would impede on our date.

I’m not sure how he’ll react, and I especially don’t want everyone finding out about our bet. That’s why,

in a nervous state, I decide not to tell him.

“An undercover food critic came and reviewed our food,” I say, a half-truth. “We got a really good

rating.”

Karl pauses for a moment, clearly a little confused. But a slow smile spreads across his face, and he

nods, giving me a thumbs up. “That’s awesome, Abby. Proud of you.”

Before anyone can say another word, Karl turns around and heads back to the kitchen. I feel frozen to

my spot as I watch him leave, until Chloe grabs my shoulder and turns me back to look at her.

“What the hell was that?” she asks.

I shake my head, avoiding both hers and Ethan’s confused gazes.

“It’s nothing,” I say, biting the inside of my cheek. “I just don’t want the news to get out just yet.”