Chasing His Kickass Luna Back
Chapter 194

Abby

I’m standing in the middle of the restaurant, my phone clutched in my hand as I stare at the screen. The

headline glares back at me: “Inside Abby’s Bizarre World: A Journey into the Mind of a Lunatic.”

“Guys, you have to see this,” I say, grinning as I turn the screen towards Daisy, Chloe, Karl, John, Ethan,

and Anton.

Karl starts to chuckle. “Oh my god, look, she included my quote—’it’s like being a hamster on a disco ball:

spinning but fabulous.”

Daisy snickers. “That was pure gold, Karl. I’m surprised you came up with that one.”

Chloe leans over my shoulder. “And she actually wrote about your ‘commute from Mars’? How gullible

was this lady?”

Enter title…

Ethan laughs so hard he almost spits out his coffee. “This is hilarious. Do you think she realized we were

messing with her?”

“I hope not,” Anton says, shaking his head. “It adds to the mystery, no?”

As we’re reveling in the absurdity of it all, my phone rings. The laughter dies down a bit as I glance at the

caller ID. “It’s Mr. Thompson,” I announce before swiping to answer.

“Abby, good morning. I presume you’ve seen the article.” His voice is stern, making my heart race.

“I was… just discussing it with my team,” I reply, shooting a look at everyone to signal that it’s serious.

“Quite the story, huh?”

Mr. Thompson pauses, and I can practically feel the tension emanating through the phone. “I don’t find it

amusing, Abby. This is terrible press for someone who is competing in the cook-off. What were you

thinking?”

I bite my l*p, realizing the gravity of what’s happening. “Mr. Thompson, I can explain. The journalist was

actually a fraud. We found out too late, and we thought responding this way would at least make the piece

discreditable.”

“You should have been more cautious, Abby. Such naivety doesn’t bode well in the culinary industry.”

I can feel my stomach knotting, the weight of his words crushing my earlier triumph. “I understand that it

was a risky move, but it was an unusual situation.”

“That may be, but you should know better than to retaliate like this. You’re now on thin ice, Abby. Not just

with the competition, but with me.”

I look around at my friends; their faces are filled with concern. “I understand, Mr. Thompson. What should I

do?”

He sighs. “Look, I like you, Abby. Since I believe you’re talented and I want to see you succeed, I’m going

to give you another chance. I’ll send you the contact information of a journalist I trust. You’re going to give

them an interview, and this time, it had better be straightforward. No antics.”

I feel a mix of relief and gratitude. “I appreciate that. Thank you.”

“Consider this your last chance, Abby. Don’t mess it up.”

“I won’t, Mr. Thompson. I promise.”

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