Four
Tasa fell in love the instant she walked into the Squad Bar. It had the feel of an old-style dive bar or speakeasy. The scent of old wood hit her as she walked out of the bright sun into the dark interior. Everything was made of wood: the floors, the wainscoting of the walls, and the long, well-used bar. A row of booths lined one wall, and groups of tables and comfy chairs were spread across the floor. The Squad logo, painted on a plaque mimicking spray paint, hung above the bar, a bike dangled from the ceiling by a series of chains, and some Harley paraphernalia was scattered on the walls.
No frills. The opposite of the way her mother had decorated her apartment back in New York. Without gimmicks or over-the-top embellishments, it felt … homey. Yes, that’s the word she’d use. It wa
