A what? Did they not have nitro brew here? So you meant to tell her that she couldn't potentially give herself a heart attack with the caffeine intake? No.
"Depends," Beverly drawled, tapping blood-red nails on the countertop. "Are you the espresso?" He caught her in a decent mood, you see. Had this truly been a caffeine emergency, she would rain fire from the walls and ceiling and nothing in this joint would survive that destruction.
Anyway, back to the heart of the matter. "But yeah, sure. That's fine," she added, and though the last thing she wanted was a Christmas cookie (maybe not the last thing - that might be a root canal without novocaine, or watching every episode of Big Brother in production order), she decided she'd try one anyway. "And a cookie. Is this your place?" Bev asked, glancing around. It was quaint, much like everything else. A much different vibe than her 'black coffee, collects murder podcasts' self.