Page 132 of Broken Lines

“You’re sure?”

“It wasn’t him. Look, Chuck, I can pay you back for the plane tickets and the motel—”

“Stop.”

He shakes his head, and when he looks up at me again, he’s actually smiling wryly. He’s even looking at my face instead of my tits.

“You did good, Mel. I mean, it’d be better if you’d found him, but you put the effort in. I can appreciate that.”

My brows lift.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Not a lot of people would have stuck that out.”

“Thanks, Chuck, I really appreciate that.”

He shrugs.

“So…” My brows knit. “Do I—”

“Work here? Oh, yeah, no.”

My shoulders sink, but it’s fine.

“Sorry, kid. The gig was dependent on you landing the Havoc story.” He shrugs. “That’s journalism. Sorry.”

“No, that’s fine, I get it.”

I know I’ve got the music news of the decade in my hands. But I also know I’m not telling it. Because it’s not mine to tell, and it’s not the world’s to use up and cut to pieces.

Instead, I smile, shake Chuck’s hand, thanks him again for the opportunity, and then walk out the door.

“Mel!”

Outside Chuck’s office in the general bullpen area of the Ignition offices, I startle as Becca, June’s reporter acquaintance who got me the initial interview here, runs up to me.

“Hey…” she makes a face when she sees mine. “Oh,shit.”

I shrug. “Oh, it’s fine. I mean, I didn’t get the story. And the job was only mine if I did.”

She gives me a slightly overdone sympathetic look and hugs me as if we’re good old friends. I’m reminded of June’s thoughts from before my trip that the only reason Becca even got me that interview is because she wanted a story with June.

“Hey, publishing is hard, Mel.”

“Totally.”

“Well, I’m sure there’ll be something else!”

I smile. “Well, we’ll see, I guess. And thanks, Becca. I mean for getting me the interview. I really appreciate it.”

She shrugs and waves me off. “No worries.”

Her brow ticks though. She glances around and then leans conspiratorially close.

“It’s true, then?”

I frown. “What?”

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