AllFreeNovel
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He got it a while back when he first started his career. Having bought it from his boss at the time and ever since, it’s been his baby.
I feel bad taking it away, but at the same time, I imagine starting the engine as the V12 power plant roars to life with a symphony of mechanical sounds. The engine produces 300 horsepower, providing ample acceleration and a thrilling exhaust note that echoes through the air.
Engaging the gears with the manual transmission, while I feel the precise and mechanical nature of the gearbox navigating through the gears. With the wind in my hair as the sound of the engine echoes around me, as I experience a sense of freedom and connection to the road.
It’s vivid in my imagination, having researched it for days and days on end.
When I first saw it in Xavier’s garage, I didn’t make a fuss about it. But internally I was practically crying with joy at just the sight.
I asked him how he got it without going into any detail about my obsession.
Every second I was close to the car, I was taking it in for the rest of eternity.
I thought I would only ever see it once in my life, but the opportunity presented itself and here we are, competing for him to keep his Ferrari and for me to own it.
The kitchen becomes my arena, and the ingredients are my weapons. I selected the ripest tomatoes and the freshest herbs, knowing that every choice counts.
Xavier’s hands move with precision and grace, his focus unwavering.
I steal glances at his pasta now and again, scaring myself in the process.
Have I mentioned how much I want this car?
Don’t get me wrong, I love my Mini Cooper, but who wouldn’t want a Ferrari?
I meticulously blend flavors, adjusting spices with a discerning palate. The balance between sweetness and acidity, richness and freshness becomes my obsession.
I am determined to create the best pasta this man has ever tasted.
No thought or question, he has to give it to me.
I pray to God that he gives this to me.
Xavier finishes plating the pasta before me. It looks good.
I don’t want it to look good.
Trying not to be distracted, I plate my pasta meticulously.
I take a moment to breathe, to soak in the satisfaction that comes from pouring everything I’ve watched on YouTube onto the plate.
A flicker of anxiety dances within me, but I refuse to let it extinguish the image of Xavier’s keys to his Ferrari in my hands.
“Ready?” Xavier asks as I stare at this plate of freaking spaghetti that will determine if I own my dream car or not.
“I don’t know.” My words come out forced.
Xavier laughs. “You sound so confident,” he teases.
“Of course I’m not going to be confident about this.” I pause, pointing at the dish. “It determines if I’m going to own the car of my dreams.”
“Wait, I own the car of your dreams?” It’s like his words translate to his face. His smile is dreamy yet infuriating.
“Yes, you do,” I grit out.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I never thought I would have the opportunity to own it.” I shrug as I push my past next to his.
