“Lover boy will be here.” Sampson winked. “It’s snowing like a bitch, and he’s probably in traffic, so hold your wad. You know how Cleveland traffic sucks around Christmas time.”

Twinkling lights festooned the ceiling and bounced rainbows off the Mylar bows affixed to every table. Clouds of fake snow puddled around the bar top. Carols played on the loudspeaker system, and iridescent snowflake decorations twirled from strings on the ceiling. Raylan glanced at the door once more. Okay, so going to a bar at midnight on a Saturday night in December hadn’t been his best idea. Anything was better than being in the apartment alone to deal with the uncertainty and things he couldn’t control.

“Are you thinking about Jackson?” Sampson kicked Raylan under the table. “You are, damn it. What did I tell you?”

“No,” Raylan snapped, knowing it was a partial lie.

“Look, you spent way too much time in New York on my mandate. It wasn’t my brightest plan, but you did. Jackson Havers isn’t worth trashing what you have with Chase. He’s a drama queen and probably made up whatever he’s claiming happened just to get you back for turning him down. He lives for drama. Don’t feed into that. Focus on the real reason you wanted Chase all alone tonight. He’ll love it.”

Raylan toyed with the umbrella in his mimosa and clenched his teeth. The thing was nothing had happened between him and Jackson. Nothing. No time spent alone together, no long phone calls, not even a quickie in the bathroom. But Jackson had done the one thing Raylan thought impossible—shaken his faith in Chase. And right when he needed his faith the most.

“Isaac will back you up. He was there doing the actual interview. Whatever Jackson says, Isaac can verify the truth. Besides, I’d love to go toe to toe with Jackson. I’d teach him a thing or two.”

“Yeah. He’d love that. He gets off on adulation.” Raylan drew circles in the condensation on the glass. “Believe me, I didn’t fuck him. You can have him.”

“Didn’t fuck who?”

Raylan’s blood ran cold. He knew the voice, but he could’ve sworn he left that disaster back at home in Clearfork, Ohio. A pair of work-roughened hands spread out on the table before him.