Aleska came and stood next to me, her olive skin shining under the glimmering lights. Her eyes were trained on the East River, which was below us, snaking it's way through the urban sprawl. She looked almost exactly the same as she had the day she saved me in the bathroom, the only thing changed about her appearance since then being her height, making her taller-- just not quite as tall as me. I also knew her eyes were a peculiar color of grey, like a nickel that glints from the bottom of a pool.

"Ezra," She singsonged, her head tilting slightly to the side as she pressed her hand next to mine on the glass, her fingernails coated in clear nail polish. She always turned her head when she spoke, always; it reminded me of the way birds move, how they train one of their eyes on you so they can see you better. "Deno wants you to check on your section. He thinks you've been here for too long. 'Obstructing the view.'" I knew she was rolling her eyes; she did every time she used a direct quote from the Deno handbook.

He was always lecturing the wait staff on how not to obstruct the view, which was one of the bar's greatest selling points. The floor plan was tiered, designed so all the guests could see the city-- not just those seated directly next to the windows. They were a pain to clean-- floor to ceiling, requiring bulk cases of Windex, specialty cotton towels Deno swore by, as well as a fair amount of painkillers and an endless supply of patience. The staff vigorously complained about cleaning them-- it took forever and was an intense experience if Deno insisted on supervising-- but he refused to get a cleaning crew. He claimed they wouldn't 'appreciate the view' as much as we did. 

Deno was a good man, though, who loved his business and his staff-- he was one of the best people I'd ever met, actually-- but I still had to tease him.

"I'll show him how I obstruct a view," I held up a fist, brandishing my knuckles like I was going to punch Aleska. She smiled, her nose crinkling, and batted my hand away as she turned to check the kitchen for outgoing meals. After her back was turned, I quickly wiped our fingerprints from the glass, leaving it as streak free and clear as it had been before. 

As I waited my own tables, busing them between clients, I took a few moments to admire the view as it surrounded us. My eyes memorized every detail they could-- I loved it up there. It seemed like, while we were so far away from the bustle of life in New York, we were also right in the heart of the madness. 

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