“It's the American Dream, isn't it?” Cope asks from behind me, and I glance over my shoulder to find him flipping through his book but not really reading any of the words. “What's wrong with getting excited about it?” “American Dream?” Paxton asks, turning around and hoisting himself up onto the surface of the bar. “Well, shit, I'm an Englishman. All I want is to smell honeysuckle and roses through my cottage window and have myself a nice cup of tea.” He digs a pack of cigarettes out and gets a weird look from Octavia as he slips one between his lips. Pax rolls his eyes and continues on in
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