Too Close for Comfort

“I’d like another,” Dean said, pointing at his empty glass. “A double.”

“You sure about that?” the burly man asked.

“Jordan, just pour the goddamn drink,” Dean growled.

Jordan retrieved the bottle of Lagavulin from the shelf behind him and poured a generous amount into the glass. “I didn’t deserve that.”

Dean picked up the tumbler and drained its contents, then fixed his gaze on Jordan’s questioning leaf-green eyes “Another.”

“No way, man. Not on my watch.” Jordan pointed at the exit. “Go hom...