But Constance didn't want her uncle to interfere. It would be creepy to snoop. If she and Nick ever spent any time together, he would surely tell her about his early life. No, she would leave his record sealed. She wasn't Burton Westerley, swinging her influence around wherever she liked.
And besides, what were the chances that she and Nick would ever spend any time together? The sad truth was that, regardless of the content of that juvenile record, her parents would never accept a poor man who had a long history of trouble with the law. Her father would go to great lengths to keep them apart, fearing that someone like Nick would try to steal the family's money. She wondered why she'd dreamt of someone that she'd have to fight so hard to be with. It made no sense.
Constance shoved the papers into her briefcase. Then, trying to act normal, she breezed into the conference room, sat down, and finally looked up at him. "Good afternoon, Nick."
He smiled at her. "Good afternoon, Constance. You're looking beautiful."
Much better. Her dream man was less angry today. Funny what a week in jail can do. And he still seemed interested in her which was even better. She was suddenly having a difficult time sitting in the same room with him. That stunning build and lusty smile. She had to get him out of jail.
Constance took too long to respond, so Nick prompted her. "Give me the bad news."
She focused and managed to speak. "Right. The prosecutor is willing to make a deal. I don't think he has enough of a case that you were selling the pictures, and possession is a lighter offense. If you plead guilty to possession, he's offering a fine, community service, and unfortunately, registering you as a sex offender."
Nick groaned. "And I'll never work with kids again."
I hate to be the bearer of bad news. She knew he would be unhappy about this. And as much as she wanted to snap her fingers and make it all good, she couldn't see how that was likely. "Not with a sex offender brand on you. Sorry."
"What about the drug company?"
She flipped through her notes. "I saw the business card they left for you. Phresh Air Pharmaceuticals, right?"
Nick nodded.
"I called the man who left the card." She looked down at her pad. "A Mr. Oliver Cardwell. He knows who you are, but he denied having anything to do with this."
Nick scrunched his mouth. "Of course not."
"I also spoke to your school nurse. She verified your claim, but didn't exactly agree with you about pulling the vaccine clinics out of the school. And of course, she doubts that a drug company would do such a thing. Is there someone else I could talk to? Did you say your brother is a pediatrician?"