At No Time || Bruno Mars

13

The loud blare of a 2014 Porsche horn startled Peter as he cantered alongside the studio building. Nearly pissing himself had not been a part of his morning schedule, but he assumed whatever brute thought it necessary to make such bedlam at ten in the morning had not been aware of that.

Heatedly tearing his earphones from their place, he twisted around to see the jesting face of none other than Trystan Wildes. This girl just wants me to hate her, Peter thought crossly as he glowered at the laughing woman. He decided the prettiness of her smile wasn't enough to rid him of vexation.

"Don't you know it's dangerous to walk around with your earphones in?" Trystan giggled, peering over the oval sunglasses perched on her nose as she leaned out the window.

"I think it's more dangerous that I could've just died from a heart attack. You really want that kinda lawsuit on your hands?" Peter suggested half-jokingly, his resolve dimming from the puerile countenance that always seemed to grace her face.

Trystan tittered, and despite his will, evoked Peter's own. He canvassed the exorbitant vehicle she was sporting.  "Where'd you get this kinda ride?" Trystan was a hit-making producer but he was sure she wasn't rolling like that yet.

"Oh, this old thing?" Trystan delicately ran her fingers over the steering wheel. "Just a temporary gift from a car company that had me waiting two weeks for my rental. They're scared shitless about getting bad reviews, so they gave me this baby to make up for it."

"Well they sure as hell hooked you up."

"As they should've." Trystan tossed him a teasingly haughty look before parallel parking beside him.

As Trystan exited the car, Peter came to a realization that her presence in that moment was counterfactual. "Wait a minute. Shouldn't you be in New York right now?"

Trystan pushed her sunglasses onto the top of her head. Through squinting eyes that warded off the late November sun's rays, she inquired as if genuinely bewildered, "Why would I be in New York?" She twisted on her heel and began traipsing toward the entrance of the building as she had the weeks prior.

Doing his best to dissuade his eyes from the sway of her hips as she walked ahead of him, he explained, "You were only supposed to stay here for two weeks."

"Uh huh." Trystan pulled open the door and stepped into the studio.

"To finish the song."

"Yep." They walked down the hallway, Peter catching up to her amenable strut.

"So why are you still here?"

"Jeez, Hernandez. It seems like you want me to go back to New York," Trystan retorted without missing a beat, her eyes ahead of her.

"No, it's not that it's just-I thought-weren't you-,"

Trystan chuckled at his stammering, and dug into the front of her shirt. She withdrew a tag and proudly held it between them both. "You're looking at a new producer of Vivacity Records."

Peter's eyes doubled in size. "Wow, are you serious?"

Trystan nodded and then laughed giddily. "Mr. Benson and I discussed everything over the weekend and basically offered me a position on the spot. To be honest I didn't think my material was good enough yet to get a position at such a big label but . . ." Trystan shrugged incredulously, her eyes on the I.D. card that legitimized her prestige.

"Well, I guess congratulations are in order. I'm proud of you."

Trystan feigned astonishment. "You, the big shot P. Dez are proud of little ol' me Trystan Wildes? I have to admit I am shocked."

Peter shook his head, chuckling. The girl always had jokes. "Seriously, I am. It's good that you're getting away from Brooklyn. Never was much there to begin with."

When Trystan's simper dimmed and her brow roughened, Peter realized he'd permitted his abstruse convictions to be revealed. "What do you mean?" Trystan queried with a tilt of her head. Her eyes were not judgmental but held a regard that she had the potential to be.

'Well, I mean—it's just that—,"

"Is that the new producer of Vivacity Records?" A teasing voice called before them both. Peter let out an inaudible sigh of relief, allayed his response, not that he truly had one suitable to alleviate the likes of Trystan, was interrupted.

Neal ambled down the hallway, arms stretched toward Trystan. Distracted from her earlier inquiry, her attention turned toward Neal, who she let pull her into a congratulatory embrace.

"This girl shows up in L.A. for less than a month and already nabs a deal with one of the best companies in the game!" Neal surmised through his bear-hug.

"What can I say?" Trystan shrugged after pulling away, her notable smirk pulling at her lips. "I'm just that good."

"I remember I was offered a position at Vivacity," Roger voiced, glancing heavenward as he recollected. "But I had to turn them down. They couldn't handle me."

Neal barely let Roger's joke gloss over before scoffing and giving the back of his head a knock with his palm. "You wish you were offered a position there!"

"Hey! I could've been!" Roger defended whilst nurturing his noggin.

"Those who "could've been" had to have potential first," Peter jested, garnering Trystan and Neal's laughter and Roger's scowl.

"But seriously, congratulations, Trystan. This is huge!" Roger enveloped her into a tight hug. His six-foot-two-inch frame giving him leverage to settle his chin atop her head. "This calls for a celebratory dinner!"

"For once, Rog has a good idea," Neal joked before turning to Trystan. "Eight o'clock okay for you?"

Trystan nodded, touched that they wanted to laud her success. She wasn't unused to the idea of being felicitated, but never expected so much love from men she'd only met less than a month prior; even Peter, who she'd technically known since childhood.

"Any particular place you want to go?" Neal enjoined, and for an inexplicable reason, Peter's throat tightened as Trystan stood in thought. He thought it barmy for him to be concerned that she was possibly contemplating going to Lenny's, the diner he'd taken her to. It hadn't been anything special, Peter reasoned, but still hoped desperately she thought of something else.

For the briefest moment Trystan glanced at Peter, who'd removed his eyes from her expertly, before surmising, "Well, I actually haven't been many places out here in L.A., so I don't have much of a preference. Surprise me."

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