Page 20 of Mine

Sabine.

“She lives in Vegas, is an organ donor, and—holy shit—today is her birthday.”

This gets my attention.

Cillian chuckles. “Wow, what a terrible birthday.”

“How old is she?”

“Twenty-seven, today. Damn. I would have sworn she was younger than that.”

I inwardly cringe. I could be her father ... and why does this bother me so much?

He continues. “Credit card, credit card, debit, Starbucks card, spa card, and ...” He frowns. “Some loyalty card from a place called Titty Titty Bang Bang.”

I snatch the pink card and study it. Relief washes over me. She’s not a stripper ... but no less sexual. Interesting.

“It’s a sex-toy shop.” I toss it back.

Cillian wiggles his brows.

“Stop.”

He laughs. “Okay, what else you got in there?”

I begin filtering out the contents, pretending that we’re not going through her purse with the sick interest and excitement of a child opening a stocking on Christmas morning. No matter how large a man’s ego, a woman will always remain a mystery.

One tube of lip gloss: Candy Apple

One tube of cosmetic concealer

A toothbrush (but no toothpaste, which I find odd. Why have a brush without paste?)

A flosser (Used—gross.)

A tube of perfume named Revenge

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