Chasing His Kickass Luna Back novel Chapter 277

Karl

The clink of silverware and the murmur of polite conversation surround me, but I feel like I’m underwater, like everything is distant and muffled.

I’m here, but I’m also not here at the same time—my mind is a thousand miles away, tangled in thoughts of Abby. As I lazily stir my drink with my straw, I can’t help but wonder…

What’s she doing right now? Wowing the judges, hopefully.

Across from me sits a woman named Marissa, her laughter ringing out a bit too loudly as she tosses her perfectly coiffed hair.

“And then I told the salesperson, ‘Do you know who I am?’ I mean, really, they should’ve known,” she giggles, sipping her champagne with an air of self-satisfaction.

“Must have been quite the oversight,” I reply blandly, the words tasting like cardboard in my mouth.

The event is a perfect array of the pack’s most eligible bachelorettes, each one more vibrant and vivacious than the last—or so they seem on the surface.

But as the afternoon wears on, everything seems to blend together into one big amalgamation of self-absorption and princess-like entitlement.

I turn to the woman on my right, Jessica, her dress a striking red that seems to hint at something fiery and passionate. But when she speaks, her words are calculated, measured, each one designed to impress rather than anything else.

“I just adore your work, Karl. You have such a... strong presence,” she says, her hand fluttering to rest delicately on her collarbone as she bats her false eyelashes.

“That’s kind of you, Jessica. And you work in...?”

“Oh, I don’t work, darling,” she chuckles, a sound devoid of any real humor. “I prefer to focus on my social engagements and charity events.”

Of course. “Noble pursuits,” I murmur, my smile feeling more like a grimace.

But it’s not just Jessica. There’s Lisa, who hasn’t shut up about her father’s private jet since she got here. There’s Samantha, who keeps biting her lip every time she glances at me. There’s Meg, who is clearly here for the I*******m pictures.

Everything feels the same. Fake, fake, fake. I swear, it’s like they’ll all turn into pumpkins when they leave.