Fire Meet Gasoline

chapter 2 | nights with champagne.

B R UN O.

"Mind if I join you?"

It only took half a second for me to realize that this may not be such a good idea. But going back to that ... party was the last thing I wanted to do. It was a snooze-fest from the moment I arrived. Granted, I had wanted to go initially. Thought it would be a step in the right direction and get me a few more connections but all it gave me was a case of exhaustion. The people there were uptight and snooty. The music was even worse. They had hired some boring pianist to hash out classical music and slow renditions of top 40 music and to top it off, they served that L.A. crap for food. The only actual thing I liked about the party was the champagne. Oh. And her.

She hadn't noticed me – at least I hoped not – watching her. She had been standing in the corner with a glass in her hands looking just as uncomfortable as I felt. Still, she was beautiful. I almost went up to her but was cock-blocked by a girl who had squealed when I bumped into her on the way to the bathroom.

As she looked up at me, her once pinned-up curls now cascading down her back bounced as she wiped her tear-stained cheeks. She shrugged and motioned for me to sit down.

A few minutes ago, I had watched her flee the party. I figured she left but when I went out to the balcony to get some air, I saw her sitting down at the beach. Alone. With her head in her hands. She had cast her shoes into the sand a few feet behind her. I'm no asshole – I knew that now was not a good time to try and get my mack on. She just seemed down for some reason and truth be told, I could relate. I hadn't been in a good head space since I got to Miami, so maybe all she needed was a good laugh and some good company. I took a bottle of champagne and made my way down to the beach.

As I took a seat in the sand next to her, I popped open the champagne, the cork flying into the water. I took a long swig and without a word, offered her the bottle.

She gave me a weak smile and took it, taking a long swig.

"Thanks," she said quietly before handing the bottle back.

It was quiet for a moment, neither one of us saying a thing and looking out towards the ocean. The waves crashing against the sand were relaxing. No wonder she ran out here.

"I'm not sure I'll be good company right now," she said, her voice shaking me out of my thoughts. "And I'm sure you don't wanna hang out with a loser who can't get over her ex-boyfriend."

I nodded. "Believe me, you're the best company I got right now. As far as losers go, you're not the only one. I'm still reeling from my ex myself."

She looked over at me, eyebrow quirked up. "I have a hard time believing that."

"Well, believe it," I told her, passing the champagne her way. "She cheated on me."

She gave me an apologetic look, taking a drink. "Mine too. In fact, the lovely Jessica and Isabella decided it was their civic duty to clue me in. What's that saying? Ignorance is bliss."

I chuckled. "Is that why you ran out of there?"

She smiled. "That and the party was boring as hell."

With a laugh, I said, "True shit. I thought I was going to fall asleep standing up."

"I almost did." She smirked.

After a moment, I asked. "So you from here?"

"Miami?" She turned to look at me, shaking her head. "No, actually, I'm from New York. I'm here on vacation. It was supposed to be a vacation for me and ... the ass -- "

"The ass?" I asked, interrupting her.

"The ex, but ass has a better ring to it," she replied. "But, anyway. I ended up coming here with my best friend. Her dad owns the condo up there. He's letting us have it for the summer."

"You mean Arthur Song is your friend's dad? That's his party?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I usually don't go to those things but Marie really wanted me to, so here I am. What about you?"

I took another swig as she passed the bottle back to me. "Well, after me and my girl called it quits. I decided to take a vacay. I had just gotten off tour and figured it'd be a good time recuperate, you know."

"And party?"

"And party," I confirmed with a smile. "So, tell me all about this asshole who had the audacity to break up with someone who can throw back champagne like you."

She laughed softly and I swore I felt my heart skip a beat. And that's how it began. My night on the beach with this perfect stranger, getting a buzz while the ocean waves touched our toes. She filled me in on the details of her break up. How he convinced her it was for the best and they'd be back together soon. How she had planned this entire trip for them because they had been distant lately and finally how she found out he cheated. With Caylor Fitz, of all people. I had met her at a couple of award shows and she seemed nice enough, but loved victimizing herself in her music. I wasn't a fan of that but hey – it sold.

Then she asked about my break up. I told her how it went down – a short story. I found my ex, Alicia giving one of my in-house producers the ride of his life in the studio. How I had been in the middle of the tour when I found out and taking this vacation had only given me the time to think about it even more. She stayed quiet for most of my story. Giving me sympathetic nods every now and then. It was nice talking to someone who seemed totally unfazed about who I was. She treated me like any other normal human being and didn't go out of her way to feel pity for me just because I was Bruno Mars.

The night slipped away from us just like the champagne did. As we exchanged random stories about our lives – the time she got to meet Whitney Houston as a kid or when I played Elvis in a movie – the sun came up in the sky. I could see the hues of purple, blue, and orange painting the sky as the sun peeked its head up over the horizon.

She yawned. "Maybe we should call it a night – or morning. The sun is already up."

I looked out towards the sky. "Yeah, yeah. That sounds like a good idea."

I got up, dusting my black slacks off before reaching my hand out to her. She took it and rose from the sand. Her gold dress sparkled in the sun matching her golden-brown eyes. She shook the sand off her dress before heading back towards the condo.

"I don't think I got your name," I said.

"Kimbra," she replied.

"Kimbra," I repeated, liking the way it rolled off my tongue. I opened my mouth to tell her my name but she stopped me.

"And your Bruno Mars, believe me, I know," she said with a laugh.

"Well, feel free to just call me Bruno – or Peter – whatever strikes your fancy," I replied.

As she nodded, I took her hand. "May I walk the lady home?"

"I'd like that," she said, giving my hand a gentle squeeze.

We walked back to the condo in silence, standing side by side in the elevator. She insisted the entrance was fine but I was a gentleman. I wasn't going to disappear until she was behind that penthouse door. When we got to the door, she turned to face me.

"It was nice talking to you, Bruno. Thanks," she said, grinning.

"The pleasure was all mine. And if you need anything, I'm in the condo next door, just holla at me from your balcony," I told her.

She did that same giggle that made my heart skip a beat and began opening the door. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind. Goodnight."

"You mean good morning."

"Good morning," she repeated, and with that, she disappeared behind the door.