Caine looked up at the mirror and stared at the girl's eyes. She bent forward, her smile a quirk at each corner of her red mouth. She wore a thin blue dress that matched the color of her eyes, and its neckline was cut so that, as she leaned forward, Caine could see that she was probably tanned all over.
She smiled her white smile and her teeth were even and small. "Name," she said.
"Caine," he snapped.
"First name."
"Nicholas."
"Do they call you Nick?"
"My friends call me Nic. N-i-c. Pronounced like Nick. My friends call me that."
"That's what I'll call you, Nic."
He stared at her in the mirror, his mouth tight.
"Aren't I your friend, Nic?" she said, wiggling her toe.