Read Stay the Night for Free Online

had the potential to make a killing.
    She faced Geraldine. “What if I bought the bar? We can work out some sort of payment plan.”
    The older woman shook her head. “I don’t want payments. I want to be done with this place.”
    Niamh tapped her fingers on the bar. She didn’t know how much the bar was going for, but that didn’t matter because she didn’t have money in the bank. But she could figure something out, even if she had to play her violin on a street corner. “I’ll get the funding.”
    That made the woman look up, her thin, penciled eyebrows arched in disbelief. “And where will you get that kind of money?”
    “I know people.” She leaned forward. “Will you give me first dibs on making an offer?”
    “I guess.” Geraldine stood up. “Though I don’t know why you want to shackle yourself to this place.”
    It wasn’t a shackle. Niamh loved this bar. It was home. She was comfortable here, more comfortable than she’d ever been at the symphony. It’d made giving up working as a musician easy, because she loved the interaction at the bar and it was more lucrative work—at least, when there were customers. Plus, when it was slow, she pulled out her violin and played whatever she wanted, without anyone telling her how to do it or what to play.
    “When are you listing it on the market?” Niamh asked.
    “Tomorrow.”
    That didn’t give her time. Niamh tapped her fingers on the counter. “Can you wait before you list it? To give me lead time to find the money?”
    “No.” Geraldine picked up her purse and slung the strap around her shoulder. “I want to sell this place as soon as possible.”
    “Wait.” She put her hand on the older woman’s arm. “Then will you at least give me the opportunity to make a counteroffer if someone puts in an offer?”
    Geraldine sighed. “You really want this place that bad?”
    “Yes,” Niamh said unequivocally.
    “You’re a fool,” the woman proclaimed. “You should be playing your violin instead of slaving away here.”
    Geraldine, too? Cormac was sneaky, but she doubted he’d have subverted her boss. “Yes, but I want the Red Witch.”
    “Fine. If I get an offer, I’ll give you time to counter, even if I think you’re being stupid.”
    Niamh grinned. “Thanks for thinking so highly of me, Geraldine. I love you, too.”
    The woman harrumphed as she strode out of the pub. Niamh waited until the door swung shut before doing a celebratory dance behind the bar. Then she noticed the time and began to build three pints of Guinness.
    Like clockwork, the front door opened and Bennett, Clancy, and Sean walked in.
    Niamh hummed as she finished their pints with shamrocks in the foam. The three old men came in every day at a quarter past six. After playing music for high tea at a nearby hotel, they had one pint and then went home to their respective families. Sometimes, they played their fiddles for her. Niamh loved it. The only thing she loved more was playing along with them. Those were the best days.
    “I worked up a wicked thirst today,” Sean said, hoisting himself onto a stool and setting his instrument in front of him. He patted her hand when she pushed a pint toward him.
    Clancy sat next to him and winked at her as he took his glass. “You work up a wicked thirst sitting on your arse.”
    Sean shrugged. “It takes a lot of Guinness to maintain this handsome physique.”
    Niamh bit her lip to keep from smiling. Sean was all wrinkly skin and bones. His eyes shone bright though, the way they must have when he was a younger man.
    Bennett joined them, carefully setting his violin case on the counter. “You look happy, lass.”
    “Geraldine’s selling the bar, and I plan on buying it.”
    The men looked at each other doubtfully.
    “What?” she asked with a frown.
    “Are you sure you want to do that?” Bennett asked.
    Clancy nodded. “You have music in your veins.”
    Not them, too. She pressed her lips together, searching for patience. Then