The two women stood close to one another on the edge of the sleek rooftop bar that overlooked the city, separate from the rest of the after work crowd. The older of the two women, with her perfectly pressed skirt and blazer, held herself with an easy confidence as she took a long, slow drag from her cigarette. She was perfectly at ease amongst the posh industrial-designed space that was populated by bankers, stock traders and business executives. The younger woman, who was a good head shorter than her companion, fumbled with the lighter unable to light her own stick of nicotine. Actually, girl may have been a better signifier than woman. She looked barely twenty-one, soft in comparison to the hard lines of steel and glass modern furniture decorating the bar. Her bun was falling out, leaving her curly hair at the mercy of the summer night’s humidity; a stark contrast to her partner’s smooth, flat bob. She clicked the Bic a few more times to no avail. The taller of the two women turned slowly from her observation of the city below. Deftly, bespeaking an old habit, a product of muscle memory, she plucked the lighter from the girl’s hand, and flicked it once, leaving the end of the cigarette glowing orange in the twilight sky. The girl blushed crimson, but it went unnoticed by her companion who had already returned to absentmindedly surveying the cars and people twenty stories below, intermittently flicking ash to the far away streets and sidewalks.
The younger one rocked awkwardly from one foot to the other, the hand not holding the cigarette going to her hair, pulling on the loose strands and mussing it up further. The older woman reached, without actually looking, for the girl’s hand, removing it from her hair and enclosing it in her own on the railing. The woman then leaned down to whisper something into the girl’s ear. She blushed again, tucking her chin into her neck and looking in the opposite direction. The woman smirked slightly, but her eyes remained impassive. The younger one, having somewhat regained herself, replied in a hushed tone, standing on tiptoes so that their foreheads almost touched. The woman’s eyes softened slightly, her jaw relaxing as she nodded her head along with the words being spoken to her.
The girl was dressed similarly to her senior but her clothes lacked the air of being purchased in a well-lit, glass-walled high street store. They were all slightly ill fitting; her shoulders lacked mobility in her too tight blazer and her pants were just a hint too long for her petite frame. No tailor or even a snotty sales assistant had likely been part of the creation of this ensemble.
The older then gave the younger a stern look, one that a superior may give when having to admonish a secretary. The girl did not blush but instead made an attempt to remove her hand from the railing where it continued to be trapped by a set of perfectly manicured fingers. She let out a huff of a breath at being stuck to the railing.
The manicured hand did not move. Its owner opened her mouth to let out a quick burst of a laugh, a grin finally extended to her eyes. The girl pouted. Finally the manicured hand lifted to quickly caress the cheek of the younger woman. The exchange was brief; it would have been surprising if anyone else in the bar even noticed.
The older woman then flicked the ends of her finished cigarette over the edge of the railing and turned on her heel, heading towards the exit. The girl stood still for a moment before hurriedly stabbing out her own half finished cigarette and dropping it to her feet. She tripped slightly as she pushed herself from the edge. It was obvious she was not yet accustomed to stilettos. Her eyes swiveled from one side of the rooftop to the other, growing larger when she did not spot her destination. Then her companion came into view, standing near the door with a hand on her hip and looking bored. As their eyes met the older woman flashed a brief smile to the girl hurrying ungracefully across the crowded bar.
