Chasing His Kickass Luna Back novel Chapter 224

“Abby? What’s going on? Shouldn’t you be at the studio?” I ask, blinking in confusion. Did I sleep through the whole day or something? Did I miss the cook-off?

She pushes past me, her eyes scanning me from head to toe like a worried mother as she makes her way into my apartment. “Karl, you’re not sick, are you? Please, for the love of god, tell me you’re not sick.”

I close the door behind her, my brows knitting in confusion. “Sick? No, I’m just a bit hungover, but other than that, I’m fine. Why? What are you doing here?”

“You’re sure you’re not sick?” Abby presses, leaning in, her eyes still wide but now tinged with a sliver of hope.

I throw my hands up in the air. “Would I lie about that? No, I’m not sick, just hungover, Abby. Now will you tell me why you’re here looking like the world’s about to end when you’re supposed to be heading to the competition?”

She sighs, the tension leaving her shoulders, but only for a second. “Karl, both John and Anton have food poisoning. They can’t even stand, let alone be my sous chefs for the cook-off today!”

I stare at her, my eyes wide with shock. “Food poisoning? From where?”

“Most likely from that seafood dish we had at the party last night,” Abby responds, her voice tinged with a mix of worry and annoyance. “You didn’t eat it, did you?”

I shake my head. I don’t like seafood very much, so I avoided it.

Abby huffs. “Can you believe it? Of all the days for something like this to happen!”

I look at her, then glance over at my reflection in the mirror hanging on my wall. I look like a disheveled mess, not at all like the Alpha I’m supposed to be. “What can I do, Abby?” I find myself asking, my gaze sliding back to her.

Abby looks me dead in the eyes, her gaze piercing. “I need a sous chef, Karl. And you’re the only one I can think of who might be able to help me out. So, please, will you be my sous chef today?”

#Chapter 136: A Hasty Replacement

Abby

He grimaces, crossing his arms. “It’s not about being good at things, Abby. It’s about being good at the right things. I don't think I’d be any help to you in the kitchen, especially not to that capacity.”

“But, Karl, I’m desperate here. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. You know how much this competition means to me.” My eyes plead with him, taking in the stubble on his jaw, the dark circles under his eyes.

He sighs. “I know, Abby, but being an Alpha comes with its own set of complications. The cooking world is your domain, not mine.” He stops pacing and looks at me, his eyes locked onto mine. “And if someone recognizes me? If word gets out that I was there, can you even imagine the kind of trouble that could cause? No one here knows that I’m an Alpha!”

I flinch at his words, but then come up with an idea. “Okay, so put on a disguise! Wear a hat, sunglasses, whatever it takes! Wear that blue surgical mask again, just like you did yesterday!”

He snorts. “A disguise? Really, Abby? You want me to wear a disguise on live television?”

“You’re missing the point,” I snap, my hands clenched in frustration. “Trust me, we could make it work. I need you.”

He opens his mouth to argue, but I cut him off. “Please, Karl. I need you,” I say, my voice more pleading than I’d ever like to admit. “I don’t have anyone else right now. And besides, no one would be thinking about you. You’d just be the sous chef, the assistant.”