The Virgin Intern(28)

Andrew doesn’t move from above me, looking down and holding my gaze. “I want to be with you. Not in secret. I don’t care what anyone thinks about us. I promise everything will be okay. I am going to make sure that you’re okay. Do you believe me?”

I nod. I do. I do believe him, but it still hurts knowing that I’m about to lose everything.

“Come with me to court today,” he says. “It will show him that you’re stronger than what he has to say to you.”

“I don’t know…”

“Please,” he says, his lips against mine, “I want you there.”

I complete this kiss, loving the sensation of his lips. “Okay.” If he wants me there, I’ll go. I can only hope that it doesn’t make things worse.

The sun is fully risen now, and I get up to take a shower. “Can I join you?” Andrew asks.

I manage to smile at him. “If you do, we’ll never make it to court on time.”

“That’s a fair point.”

Once showered and dressed, I see Andrew again in the kitchen. He’s drinking coffee and eating a granola bar. “I have a question,” he says as I come downstairs. “What did you actually find last night?”

I glance toward the dining room. In the emotional mess I had completely forgotten my discovery. Internally cringing, I go into the dining room and grab the Trident Security file. I pass it to Andrew. “Here. It’s the breakdown brochure for people installing systems with Trident. It describes the services involved in every tier, and Mr. Sterling was in the highest. Look what it says.”

He scans it, and his eyes widen. “Multiple secure data back-ups.”

“I looked into it further, and what they mean is that all records are held on a server that only the highest members of the company can access. It’s not something that shows up in their regular database, and because it’s privileged they would never provide it voluntarily.”

“I’m sure Timothy told the police to check every back-up,” he says, and I can see him working through it.

“I’m sure he did too. But the police wouldn’t have known about the fact that there was a back-up like this. The information is private, and kept in the highest confidence—even from law enforcement. Do you see? If it’s not there, we lose nothing. If it is—”

Andrew is beaming now. “You’re right. This could change everything. If it shows that Timothy left the house, it could vindicate him entirely.”

“We’ll have to subpoena the records.”

“How fast can you get one ready?” he asks, downing the rest of his coffee.

“How much time do we have?”





Chapter 14




The courthouse is both beautiful and intimidating. I suppose they probably designed it that way. It’s an old building, all wood and polished floors and delicate moldings. I feel sick. The whole ride in the car I kept thinking about what my uncle will say to me when he sees me and now that Andrew and I are close, I think I’m going to throw up. Suddenly the world feels like it’s spinning and I’m hyperventilating. Andrew takes my hand and his voice is calm and steady as he tells me, “Everything will be fine. He won’t cause a scene here.”

“He doesn’t have to,” I say.

“You’re here because I want you to be. That’s all you have to remember.”

“Easier said than done,” I mutter under my breath.

We turn the corner and approach the courtroom, and I see Uncle Roger standing with Mr. Sterling. I feel like the floor might swallow me up, but I keep walking because Andrew is still holding my hand. My uncle sees Andrew first, then me, then our joined hands. His expression turns livid. He says something to Mr. Sterling and makes a beeline toward us, meeting us halfway. “Naomi, I don’t see any reason for you to be here, as you have nothing of substance to contribute.” His tone is acid.

Andrew squeezes my hand, and I take a deep breath. “I’m here at Mr. Finch’s request.”

“And actually Roger, Naomi may have saved our case,” Andrew cuts in. “When you interrupted us last night she was in the process of uncovering an important piece of evidence.”

My uncle laughs, “That’s impossible.”

Andrew looks over at me. “Naomi?”

My mouth is suddenly dry—the plan was for Andrew to tell him what we found, not me. I don’t even think I can. I feel Andrew change his grip, fingers threading through mine and squeezing. “Tell him what you found.”

I clear my throat. “There may still be evidence that Mr. Sterling left the house on the night of the murder.”