"An espresso machine in prison? That is class," he laughed. "I don't remember ever having anything like that, but then again I wasn't a person they were so quick to please. Apparently, people don't particularly care for unleashing hell on the streets of London." He shrugged, as if genuinely perplexed, but then a grin curled the very corners of his lips.
"I'll let you do the ordering then, Harley. I'm interested to know what your go-to drink is."