Never Let Go (Of Me) • Ferran Torres

Chapter 13: First Dinner

🎶 Gorgeous — Taylor Swift 🎶

Nervously, I was standing in front of the gate to the address Ferran had sent me. This was such a posh neighbourhood, the only time I had been at a place like this, was at Frenkie's party a few months ago. And now I was here, with sweaty hands, not knowing what I should expect from tonight... or Ferran. But stalling had no sense, on the contrary, if I arrived too late, he might even think I'm not a serious person. I hated to leave bad impressions.

So I rang the bell with very shaky hands, until I heard his deep voice through the speaker.
"Hi!" he said.
"Yeah... it's me. Lina... eeerhh Cata" I stammered.
"I know. I can see your whole front on my huge display" he chuckled and I quickly stumbled a few steps back to see the camera that was filming me. Creepy rich people. The gate buzzed and I mumbled a quick "Thank you" before walking inside his garden. An Audi was parked in a garage that was left open and the front door now opened, revealing a very handsome looking Ferran.

"Hey" I said quietly as i put my hands in my jeans' back pockets.
"Hey" he replied as he stepped aside to show me inside. Wow. It was a sleek, modern house with simple interior - I liked it.
"You have great taste" I complimented him and his abode.
"Thanks... I've been doing some... redecorating" he explained and I nodded, understanding what he meant.
"That's good" I replied, with my zero knowledge of a breakup as I had never had a relationship.

"I went to see the therapist you recommended" he told me.
"Oh! How'd it go?" I asked curiously, hoping not to sound too curious however, it was his own business in the end.
"Good! He gave me some advice on stuff I'd have surely messed up all by myself" he chuckled and I laughed a bit too.
"Sounds like me with Sara" I chuckled.

"Have you known her for long?" he asked, genuinely interested.
"Yeah... She's been my best friend since nursery, we've gone to school together and I was there for her when her father died... until I was shipped off to England by my parents" I sighed and he could guess that there was more to the last part of the story, but he was respectful enough to not squeeze me out. He must have gotten the hint that I'd tell him when I'd want to.

"That's nice to have such friends. My bunch of childhood friends all live back at home in Valencia but thankfully it's not too far... They'll come up on Saturday for the trophy presentation. By the way, are you coming too?" he asked and I shook my head.
"I have to work... Every one of my colleagues wants to go so that shift is paid extra - and I offered myself" I mumbled.
"That's a shame... But you could come to the after party! Everyone will be there, also friends, so you wouldn't intrude at all" he offered.
"Um... Can I think about it?" I asked, unsure of his offer.
"Sure. Um... we could exchange phone numbers by now, texting over Instagram is getting strange if you know the person... better" he muttered, trying to find the right words.
"Sure, give me your phone" I chuckled as I saved myself under Catalina Ferrero.

Ferran scoffed when he took his phone back.
"First and last name? You're not a business contact. There we go: Cata. Much better." he said proudly as he tapped around on his phone. "Very well. Now I'll stop speaking Castellano and switch to Valencian/Catalan/whatever. You'll just follow and go along" he said and I panicked.
"No, no! Wait! I know nothing!" I squeaked.
"You'll understand, it's not Chinese!" he shouted as he walked over to what apparently was the kitchen, starting to speak in this weird language.

"We'll cook Fideuà, it's a dish from the Valencian region. It's basically a paella, but with noodles instead of rice" he explained and I just did what he told me to do.
"Can you cook?" he asked, when he saw that I was struggling with peeling the tomatoes.
"I lived in England during the time I would have learnt how to... So I only know how to warm up those disgusting beans. I'm a much better baker though" I replied.
"No! I cannot eat sweet stuff! How will I eat something done by you now?" he gasped dramatically, making me laugh.
"I can think of some sugar-free stuff" I chuckled.
"Good answer" he replied, pointing his knife at me from a few feet away.