Layla
“I need a drink like you wouldn’t believe.”
“And here I thought you came to visit me because of my winning personality.”
My best friend Quinn owned a bar less than four blocks from my office. O’Malley’s was a local pub that her dad had owned as far back as I could remember. After he decided to move to Florida a few years ago, Quinn kept it running while he had it up for sale. Six months later, she’d discovered what her dad had loved doing his whole life and decided to keep the place herself.
For the most part, it was an old man’s day bar. But it was the perfect place to come hang out after work—no young guys to assume a woman sitting alone at the bar was looking to get laid. It was a good thing I was a workaholic, or I could’ve easily spent all my time in this place and become a
