"I am a firm believer in better living through chemistry," he said. He pounded another coffee. "Ahhh. Coffee and modafinil are an amazing combo." She'd taken hers that morning when the alarm got her up. She'd been so tired that it actually made her feel nauseated to climb out of bed, but the modafinil was getting her going. She knew a little about the drug, and figured that if the TSA approved it for use by commercial pilots, it couldn't be that bad for you. "So, my girlish figure. I work for a firm that has partners here in Petersburg who work on cutting-edge pharma products, including some stuff the FDA is dragging its heels on, despite widespread acceptance in many nations, this one included. One of these is a pill that overclocks your metabolism. I've been on it for a year now, and even though I am a stone calorie freak and pack away five or six thousand calories a day, I don't gain an ounce. I actually have to remember to eat enough so that my ribs don't start showing." Suzanne watched him gobble another thousand calories. "Is it healthy?" "Compared to what? Being fat? Yes. Running ten miles a day and eating a balanced diet of organic fruit and nuts? No. But when the average American gets the majority of her calories from soda-pop, 'healthy' is a pretty loaded term." It reminded her of that talk with Lester, a lifetime ago in the IHOP. Slowly, she found herself telling him about Lester's story. "Wait a second, you're Suzanne *Church*? New Work Church? San Jose Mercury News Church?" She blushed. "You can't *possibly* have heard of me," she said. He rolled his eyes. "Sure. I shoulder-surfed your name off the check-in form and did a background check on you last night just so I could chat you up over breakfast." It was a joke, but it gave her a funny, creeped-out feeling. "You're kidding?" "I'm kidding. I've been reading you for freaking *years*. I followed Lester's story in detail. Professional interest. You're the voice of our generation, woman. I'd be a philistine if I didn't read your column." "You're not making me any less embarrassed, you know." It took an effort of will to keep from squirming. He laughed hard enough to attract stares. "All right, I *did* spend the night googling you. Better?" "If that's the alternative, I'll take famous, I suppose," she said. "You're here writing about the weight loss clinics, then?" "Yes," she said. It wasn't a secret, but she hadn't actually gone out of her way to mention it. After all, there might not be any kind of story after all. And somewhere in the back of her mind was the idea that she didn't want to tip off some well-funded newsroom to send out its own investigative team and get her scoop.