Chapter Three
It was 2 am and Deirdre was so tired her eyelids felt like sandpaper. The short nap she’d taken after working at the bakery hadn’t made up for having to be awake at four in the morning the previous day. Thank goodness she’d had the foresight to ask for tomorrow off. An hour of sleep would never be enough.
She looked around the bar. Last call had been fifteen minutes ago, and people were still murmuring about not wanting to leave. The doormen were excellent at shuttling them out the door anyway. As she hunched over a table to wipe it down for the millionth time that evening, she wanted to continue the downward curl until she was on the bench.
The quicker she got the place cleaned up, the quicker she’d get home and to her bed. Well, Maggie’s old bed. She straightened quickly
