"I'm going to find out who she is!" George called after his friend as Oliver walked away from the table. He smirked and settled back in his bench, one arm thrown over the back and drinking his pint. Absently, he brushed his hair over his missing ear. Yes, war wounds were great for winning the ladies, but only after the stories were told.
He sat up as the girls approached and gestured to the empty seats. "Hello, ladies. Welcome to the best table in the joint."