Chasing His Kickass Luna Back
Chapter 0290

My smile wavers as I turn away, my mind still on Logan's words. Hasn't your sous chef told you? The question echoes in my mind, over and over, like a broken record on repeat.

As I busy myself with doling out the coffee, my eyes keep flicking to Karl. He's listening to a story of Vanessa's, laughing at something she’s said, and he looks up, catching my eye.

He smiles, but I don't smile back. Not this time.

Because now I need to know. What really happened between him and Logan? And if it's so important, why didn't he tell me?

But this isn't the time or the place. Not with the judges here, not with the evening still going on. I'll have to wait, to put on a brave face and play the perfect hostess until they leave.

"Well, Abby,” Vanessa says, her coat in hand, “tonight was lovely. We'll be sure to send out our verdict tomorrow.”

“You'll receive a call from Mr. Thompson, of course,” Xavier chimes in with a warm smile.

I nod, although the movement feels robotic. “Thank you. I'll be looking forward to it.”

The judges say their goodbyes—even Logan offers a curt nod. But as the door clicks shut behind them and their voices fade away into the night, the air seems to rush out of the room.

I stand by the door, my hand still resting on the cool metal of the handle, watching through the glass as their figures disappear down the street. The tension I've been carrying in my shoulders all night seems to unwind ever so slightly. I finally feel like I can relax, like the mask can come off. Then I hear his voice, gentle yet uncertain. “Abby?”

I turn to find Karl standing there, his expression unreadable. In the quiet space of the now empty room, his presence is both a comfort and a reminder of Logan's cryptic words earlier.

For a moment, I just stare at him, trying to find the right words, trying to make sense of it all. Finally, I can't hold it in any longer. I need to know.

“Karl,” I start, my voice not quite steady, “Logan said something strange to me in the kitchen earlier.” "Oh?" Karl's brow furrows, and he takes a step closer, his hands tucked into his pockets.

"He implied that you... that you knew something. That there was some “truth’ you hadn't told me from the day of the cook-off.” The words come out in a rush before I can stop them.

Karl's face changes. The easy openness that was there a moment ago now seems to be replaced by something else, something that I can't quite put a finger on.

“Did he?” His voice is even, but I can sense the tightness lurking beneath.

I nod, folding my arms across my chest as if that will somehow comfort me.

"Yeah, he did. He said, “Hasn't your sous chef told you?" when I asked why he seemed to dislike me. Then he said it wasn't his place to say, but that I should talk to you and get the truth. He wouldn't waste his breath twice.”

Karl's eyes shift away from mine for a fraction of a second before returning, but in that brief moment, I see something like regret flicker across his face.

“I see,” he says quietly, and it's all too clear now. There's a hint of something behind his words, something that tells me all I need to know; that Logan wasn't just toying with me earlier. That there was some truth to his statement.

"So?" I prompt, the word filled with a combination of confusion and hurt. “What is it that I don't know? What truth was Logan talking about?”

Karl lets out a long breath, and when he looks at me again, it's as if he's deflated ever so slightly. “Abby, I..."

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