Abby
The moment Mr. Thompson utters the words, the whole world seems to stop. I’m still sitting at my desk in my cluttered little office, but I feel as though I’ve been launched into outer space; it’s like that feeling in a dream when you suddenly fall from an impossible height, only to wake up just before you hit the ground.
“Are you... are you serious?” I manage, gripping the edge of my desk to steady myself.
His smile is as reassuring as ever. “Of course, I am, Abby. You think I would joke about something like this?”
It’s hard to breathe. After everything, as though some sort of unseen force suddenly decided to make things right, they want me to cater the Alpha party. Me. Abby. The girl who lost the cook-off miserably on live television. The girl who was sabotaged by a male chef.
