Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

Abby
“Your sous chef... I saw him trying to bribe the judges earlier.”
Daniel’s words land on me like a lead weight. Karl? Bribing the judges? He
wouldn’t do something like that. When would he have even had the time? Why
wouldn’t he have told me?
My gaze locks with Daniel’s, and disbelief tightens around my chest as though
some invisible hand is gripping my heart, squeezing tighter and tighter.
“What do you mean by that?” I demand, my voice trembling despite my
desperate attempts to keep myself steady, to maintain control in a situation
that’s making me feel like the world is tilting on its axis.
Enter title...
Daniel’s wry chuckle bounces off of the walls of the breakroom. His voice
sounds like a taunt as he takes a step closer, narrowing his eyes. “Come on,
Abby. Don’t act like you don’t know. You put him up to it, didn’t you?” he asks.

“Your performance during round two was so awful, surely you thought you could
bribe the judges into keeping you on the show.”
My eyes are so wide they feel like they’ll pop out of my head. “Never,” I hiss. “I
would never do any such thing, and neither would he. You’re full of it, Daniel.
Absolutely full of it.”
But Daniel just chuckles again. “Then explain this to me: why, during the break,
did I see your sous chef...” he leans in, his breath foul with the scent of coffee
and arrogance, “going into the judges’ room? He looked pretty cozy too, tucking
a wad of cash into his pocket.”
I recoil away from him, my heart racing, a mix of anger and dread coursing
through my veins. “You’re a liar,” I say, my voice sharp. “You’re just trying to
throw me off. First you sabotage me, and what now? You’ll accuse me of bribery
on live television?”
But even as I speak, Daniel’s smug expression doesn’t falter for even a

moment, and a sickening realization dawns on me that he might not be making
up lies.
“Don’t believe me?” he asks, straightening. “Why don’t you ask him yourself,
then?”
With that, Daniel jerks his head toward the door to the breakroom, which I’ve
had my back to throughout this whole godforsaken conversation. My heart feels
like it stops, like the room has been sucked out of air.
I whirl around, and the room tilts, time stopping in its tracks