Page 89 of Exposé

I jerked upright, elbows smacking the desk, sending a tingling spark to my fingers. "Is it bad?"

"Nope, it’s acetylsalicylic acid. Plain ol’ aspirin."

I paused, my heart thrumming like an out-of-control bull. "Come again?"

"Unless you're planning on taking down headaches across America, I'd say you're safe. No secret formulas, no bad guys hiding in the shadows. It's a glorified painkiller you can pick up at any corner store."

"That’s it? Are you sure?"

He scammed me.

That little dirtbag...

"Sure as I’m alive and my back still aches every morning, which, for the record, is one hundred percent." He chuckled and tapered off with a groan. "The compound's as basic as they come. Someone either really wanted you to have a headache-free day or thought it'd make for a killer joke. Pun absolutely intended."

I glared at Aria, who sat wide-eyed, her body leaning towards me. "And there is no way you made a mistake?"

"None. Now I have other things to get to. Remind your colleague this was it. I'm done."

The phone went dead and I dropped it onto the desk. My fingers dashed through my hair, tugging on the loose strands at the base.

"Well?"

"He is the most annoying source I've ever had the displeasure of working with."

She laughed. "He's eccentric."

I rolled my eyes. "I'll say."

"Did he figure it out?"

I bit the inside of my cheek, my knee bobbing beneath the desk. "That little shit scammed me."

"Who?"

"The drug dealer," I whispered. "He gave me goddamned aspirin."

Aria's suppressed laughter broke free, spilling into a full-bellied giggle.

"This is so not funny." I shook my head in my hands, then sat back. "He said that was the last favor he's doing. So you lost a source for nothing."

She wiped a tear from beneath her mascara eyelashes. "Yeah, he says that every time." Aria sucked in a shaky breath and released it with the remnants of laughter. "Don't worry about him. He's eccentric, remember?"

"What do I do now?"

"Wait for the Mayor's office to call for an interview?" She shrugged. "Harass the ATF for your FOIA or whoever you submitted that to."

"Right. Because that works so well."

"Go on a date." She spun in her chair. "Speaking of—"

"No."

"No? I didn't even ask my question."

"You didn't have to. The answer is no."

"Come on. Let me live my life vicariously through you."

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