He leans back, looking at me while idly stirring his tea, the way men in the American Mafia do when they realize they’re made men. Except made men drink cocktails. Irvine Welsh drinks tea.
He leans back, looking at me while idly stirring his tea, the way men in the American Mafia do when they realize they’re made men. Except made men drink cocktails. Irvine Welsh drinks tea.
