Page 22 of Sugar

At just that word, Joel scowled even as he stood straighter. Sports offered the least amount of journalistic creativity but garnered the most readership. Everyone watched, read, and obsessed about stories that were usually simple recaps. Limits were rarely pushed. Groundbreaking investigations seldom took place. There was no fire to play with.

It might’ve been his least favorite section, but Joel knew the analytics. If the topic was something even vaguely interesting, it would be chosen.

That grudging acceptance my editor had shown in that single second grew to something electric when the guy continued talking. “Is online betting. You can place a wager on anything. I won a grand on an event in Turkey last month.”

“Like you bet on the bird or the food?” some guy I didn’t know asked.

An awkward chuckle petered out when it became obvious he wasn’t joking.

“First of all, please tell me you know the animalisthe food,” Joel demanded as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Of course.” The guy waved his hand and forced a laugh, but it was too late.

We’d all seen the genuine surprise.

“Leave.” Joel pointed to the door. “Go find a map and study it.”

“Why a map?”

“Holy shit. Just get out.”

Lost and confused, the guy grabbed his stuff and left.

Joel pointed at the one doing the pitch. “You. What’s your name?”

He puffed up and glanced at Abby. “People call me Doc.”

“Yeah, I’m not calling you that,” Joel said. “Sports betting. What’s the hook?”

At the blank stare, Abby whispered, “The point of your article that’ll make people want to read it.”

“Oh, right,” the guy said. “Well, Coastal is trying to ban it.”

Mischief glittered in Joel’s anticipatory gaze. “Oh really?”

“Well, they haven’t said anything, but sites and apps are glitching on the school Wi-Fi. Things aren’t loading. It can’t be a coincidence.”

“No. It can’t. This is good. Do you have any writing experience?”

He shook his head.

“Investigation experience?”

He shook his head again. “But I want to try. I understand how the apps and sites work since I use them. That knowledge will be important.”

“True. I’ll pair you with an experienced contributor, you can tag team it.” Joel scanned the room.

I wanted the story.

I would sell my soul for it.

More than that, I deserved it. I was the best investigator in that room. I floated under the radar—underestimated, yet stubborn as hell.

Joel called me the biggest pain in the ass no one knew they had, and he wasn’t wrong.

When his gaze hesitated on me, I thought I had it. But then he moved on and pointed to the far side of the room to our main sportswriter. “Marc, work this with what’s-his-name.”

“Got it.”

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