Maura waited until the van had pulled away before saying to Mick, “Seriously, what a pompous bunch of stiffs. Mr. Smarmy in his custom-made suit and all the little smarmies following him around like a bunch of baby ducks.”

“Do I take it yeh’re not impressed by our guests?”

“Go right ahead. Please. Billy, what did you think?” Maura called out to him.

“Sure, and we haven’t seen the likes of them in this place before,” Billy said with a gleam in his eye.

“You think they’re going to want to do business with us? Or have I scared them off?”

“Is that what you were after doin’?”

“Well, it’s my place, so they’re supposed to be wooing me, if that’s the right word. Can you really see a van full of rich tourists pulling out of this posh hotel and coming to Sullivan’s to hear Joe Snot and the Sneezes play? And then they’d go home and tell their friends what an authentic experience they’d had in this nowhere town in Ireland.”

“Yeh sound angry, Maura,” Mick said quietly.

“Maybe I am. They come in and look down their noses and decide whether this place meets their standards. Which I doubt it does. They’re judging the place, and us, and me. You know, they might have done better to slip in on a night when there was music and just look and listen. They’d have learned more about who we really are.”

“That’s a good point, Maura, but from what I hear, it’s not how big companies operate. They like doin’ things by committee.”

“And yet some of them barely opened their mouths.” At least at the end, this Helen person had tried to soften the impression John Byrne had made. But thinking of John Byrne made her mad again. “And they want to ‘improve’ our furniture? Seriously? We wouldn’t be who we are if everything matched. We’ve earned every nick and scratch.”

“So it’s a no I’m hearin’,” Billy said.

“Yeah, I’d say so. Let them find a nice place in Skibbereen that’d be glad to have their business.”

“Don’t be so quick to brush them off, Maura,” Mick cautioned. “Could be there’d be money involved, apart from the money yeh’d make off the drinks. Yeh never got around to discussing that side of the question.”

“Hey, Mick, even I know you don’t talk money at the first meeting. They came, they looked, they left. If they hated the place, we won’t hear from them again. If they’re interested, they’ll get back to us. End of story.”

“It’s your place,” Mick said neutrally and went back to polishing glassware. “But a few more euros wouldn’t hurt.”

“You’re saying we aren’t earning enough?”

“I’m not tellin’ yeh that, but yeh’re cutting it pretty close. All I’m sayin’ is keep yer mind open, listen to what they have to say.”

“Well, I’m not going to lose any sleep over it,” Maura grumbled—and wondered why she was so ticked off at the group. Maybe it was the suits. She didn’t see many of them in West Cork. Maybe it was the way that older woman had kept starting at her like she was judging her. Or maybe it was because they all seemed so out of place, no matter where it was they came from. Anyway, if some kind of deal happened, it would happen, and she wasn’t about to chase after it now.

Business was slow early in the day, so Maura sat on a barstool and grabbed a few minutes to talk to Rose. “What do you know about this Crann Mor place?”

“I’ve never set foot in the hotel, although I’ve heard others talk of it. A bit rich for the likes of us, I’m guessin’.”

“What exactly is it? A hotel? Another place like Mycroft House that used to be a manor except now it’s turned into a business?”

Rose perched on a stool next to Maura. “Back a few years, before my time, it might’ve been a house, but far grander than Mycroft House ever was. I’m told the gardens are something special, and folks like us can walk through them. It’s been a hotel for a while, I guess, but then those new buyers came in. Folks are worried they may turn things upside down.”

“How do you mean?”

“Take a look around yeh, Maura. This part of the country is doin’ well these days. It’s one of those places the travel people like to call ‘unspoiled’ and ‘scenic.’ And the Cork Airport makes it easy to reach. The business folk see an opportunity here.”

Maura sat back on her stool and looked at the girl. “Rose, how come you know so much more about this than I do?”

“Yeh’ve been here no more than a year, Maura. I’ve lived here all me life. And yeh’ve come from a big city where things change all the time. Things move more slowly here, and changes stand out more.”

“Would you play ball with this crowd?”

Rose looked bewildered for a moment, then said, “Are yeh askin’ would I play their games and shine this place up? That’s not fer me to say, but I think it would be like puttin’ a dress on a pig.”

Maura laughed. “So you’re calling this place a pig?” When Rose started to protest, Maura held up a hand. “No, I know what you mean. My gut says it just wouldn’t work. But I’m still the new kid here, and I’d want to hear some other opinions.”

“From what I heard, there’s no choice to be made yet. And Maura? Thanks fer askin’ me what I think.”

“You’re a smart kid, Rose. I should be listening to you.”

* * *

Things picked up over the course of the day, and Maura didn’t give any more thought to the Crann Mor visitors. She really wasn’t interested in becoming part of some corporate scheme, and she hoped she felt that way because she knew the limitations of her business rather than out of fear of change or trying new things. The music side was still growing, and she was curious to see where it went over time. Still, that was reviving an old tradition, not creating a new one. But that was how she saw Ireland: a lot of old things survived, if maybe polished up and pushed forward again. She wasn’t about to tell her patrons that they should move with the times. The old times seemed to suit them fine.

It was past five when Maura noticed a woman who’d come in alone and recognized her as Helen Jenkins. Why was she back? She’d changed out of her serious business clothes and looked almost . . . ordinary. The woman looked around hesitantly, then took a table near the bar. Rose looked at her, then at Maura. “You want me to . . . ?”

“No, I’ll do it, thanks.” Maura came out from behind the bar and walked over to the table, wondering why the woman looked so nervous. “Hi,” Maura greeted her. “You’re Helen, right? Can I get you something?”

“A coffee, please. Do you have time to talk?”

“Sure.” Maura signaled to Rose to start a cup of coffee, then sat down at the table across from the woman. “You were here earlier, with the Crann Mor people. Are you still trying to sell me on your ideas?”

“Well, no, not exactly. I . . . kind of wanted to apologize for them.”

“Why? You already did. Why do you think it matters?”

“Well, John—he’s the CEO—is a smart businessman, but I’m not sure he quite gets the way things work around here—in Ireland, I mean. Or this part of the country. He’s more of a city person.”

“And how do you think things work around here?” Maura had to wonder how much this city woman could know about West Cork.

“Quieter. Slower. Smaller. JBCo has a hotel in Dublin, but of course that’s different. But I think I’m not making myself very clear. I think what I’m apologizing for is making you uncomfortable in your own place. For telling you that we like this place for what it is, but we want it to be different. We have no right to come marching in here and asking you to change if you’re happy with what you’ve got. And I don’t want you to make a decision that doesn’t work for you just for the money.”

Rose arrived with Helen’s coffee, set it down, and winked at Maura before returning to the bar.

Helen watched her go. “Is she old enough to be working here?”

“Barely. It’s complicated. But she’s been working here longer than I have.”

“Which is how long?”

“Just about a year.”

“And before that? You’re American, right?”

“Boston born and raised. I inherited this place.”

“There must be an interesting story behind that.”

Maura shrugged. She wasn’t in the habit of sharing her recent life history with strangers off the street. “About what you said, we get by and we’re growing. Did your boss send you here to talk to me? Maybe soften me up?”

Helen shook her head. “No, I came on my own.”

“Why?”

“This is a fact-finding trip. The consortium owns the hotel property, but how it’s going to be managed and what clientele we want to attract are still under discussion. I know he throws his weight around, but I can tell you he’s very good at what he does.”

“You’d know better than me. Why do you work for him? Because he’s smart and successful? Is the money really good?” Maura saw the woman studying her again, the way she had earlier in the day.

Finally Helen answered. “No, or not primarily. As I said, he’s smart, and he makes good decisions, at least about the business and investments. He’s the guy who charms the high-end investors. I run the numbers and make the deals work.” She hesitated briefly before adding, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure. I’ve been asking you questions.”

“You seem young to be managing a pub—or any business, for that matter—especially in a country that’s not your own. How’s that working for you?”

For a moment, Maura thought that Helen was trying to pry into her private life, but she looked sincerely interested. “I won’t give you the whole story, but the package—pub and house—kind of got dumped on me all at once when I first got here. My choice was either to throw it all away and go back to Boston or to stay here and see if I could make it work. I had no real reason to go back to Boston, so here I am, a year later.”

Helen smiled a little wistfully. “You look like you’re enjoying it. You certainly defended it earlier.”

Maura considered. “I guess I am enjoying it. I never expected to own or run anything. Some days I wake up and look at myself in the mirror and wonder how the heck I got here.”

Helen nodded once, more to herself than to Maura, and then she straightened in her chair. “I don’t want to take up any more of your time, Maura. Maybe we made a poor first impression, but I hope you can see past that. Listen, why don’t you come see Crann Mor? Even if nothing comes of our talks, it’s still a beautiful site, and I think you’d enjoy it.”

“Not exactly my style, you know,” Maura said dryly. “I don’t think I have anything I could wear—anybody who saw me would figure I was hired help. Look, I haven’t been in the business long, and I haven’t been in Ireland long either. I’m still finding my way. But I’m pretty sure I’m not ready to make any changes now. Bringing the music back was a big thing for me, and we’re still working out some of the details. I don’t want to move too fast. So I’m not exactly going to jump in a different direction just because you guys want me to.”

“I understand that, Maura, and nobody’s pressuring you. There are some nice places in Skibbereen or Schull that would be happy to partner with us. All I’m saying is, check out what we’re doing and think about it. Will you do that?”

Maura wondered why Helen was working so hard to enlist her, but she was in fact curious. “How about this? You take me to lunch or tea or whatever at your hotel, but in return you have to come back here Saturday night and see this place with music going on. You may decide it’s not right for what you want.”

“Just me, not our professional management team?” Helen smiled.

“Yeah, just you. Bring the team of suits along, and the whole mood will go flat. Did you bring a pair of jeans along?”

“I think so.”

“Just come and watch and listen. Deal?”

“That sounds good. When do you want to have lunch? Or would you rather have high tea?”

“Lunch is fine. As long as I don’t have to dress up.”

“Does tomorrow at noon work for you?”

“Sure. I’ll meet you there, okay?”

“Great.” Helen drained her coffee, slipped a few euro coins beside her cup, and stood up. “Thank you, Maura. I’ll see you tomorrow. Oh, let me give you my card with my mobile number in case something comes up.” She pulled a card from her bag and scribbled a number on the back before handing it to Maura. “Bye for now.”

Maura stood and watched her leave, then went back to the bar. “So?” Rose said. “Have yeh sold out already?”

“Not exactly. I said I’d have lunch with her tomorrow at her fancy place, but only if she’d come to hear the music on Saturday night. In disguise as a normal person.”

“Grand. At least yeh’ll get a good meal out of it. Take notes fer me, will yeh?”

“What, no doggy bag?”

“Yeh mean leftovers? If yeh can manage it, sure.”