It was the first time I’d heard it since that night on the tailgate all those years ago, and even then, it was incomplete. When she finished playing, all I wanted to do was rush the stage and pull her into my arms.
Stacy’s eyes cut over to Ruby, and her lips tip into a sly grin. “That’s correct.”
“After the concert, you approached Miss Hayes in her tour bus. What did she have to say for herself?”
“She said, and I quote, ‘God forbid their cash cow steps a toe out of line’. Then she told me to go fuck myself—pardon my language. She said she doesn’t care if the label sues becauseshe doesn’t need them anymore, and she said she would accuse them of abuse if they tried to take her to court.”
Ruby slaps her palms on the desk and stands. “That’s a lie!” Her voice echoes through the room, and all eyes turn in her direction.
The bailiff watches the judge’s reaction with a hand on his belt, and my jaw clenches against the barely contained anger rising within me.
Judge Henderson bangs her gavel twice in quick succession. “Order in the court. I will not tolerate any outbursts, Miss Hayes. Your lawyer will have a chance to cross-examine the witness. Please continue, counselor.”
“The plaintiff rests, your honor.”
Ruby leans in close to Adam. “I said the cash cow thing, but everything else is bullshit,” she whispers.
He rubs his hand up and down her back. “We were ready for this. I’ll handle it.”
A fleeting moment of jealousy overtakes me. I want to be the one soothing her, but I’m stuck being a spectator, helpless to do anything but offer my silent support.
“Defendant, you may now question the witness.”
Adams stands and approaches the bench with a stack of papers in hand. “Miss Jones. Were you aware that Miss Hayes was running a fever of 104 degrees the day of the concert in question?”
“She was treated by an on-site doctor, and the fever was under control at the time of her concert,” she says defensively.
“But you were aware that my client was ill, correct? It’s a yes or no question.”
“Yes,” she mutters through gritted teeth.
“And were you aware that Miss Hayes had been ill for quite some time, and the doctor advised her to postpone the final three shows of the tour and go on vocal rest?”
“I was notinformed, no.”
“I have a note here from Ruby’s personal doctor that proves otherwise, Miss Jones. You and the label were both emailed a copy, and we have the records to prove it. Exhibit B, your honor.”
The judge adjusts her glasses and reads through the paper. “You may proceed.”
“Thank you, your honor.” Adam turns back to the witness stand. “You were the tour manager on duty for the last three shows, which took place over three days in three states with tour bus travel in between, is that correct?”
She tugs at the neckline of her jacket and straightens her spine. “I don’t see how that’s relevant. It was my job.”
“It’s a yes or no question, Miss Jones. Were you the manager during those shows or not?”
“Yes.”
“And at any point when Miss Hayes was suffering, did you contact the higher-ups to advocate for my client?”
The opposing lawyer stands. “Objection. Relevance?”
Adam’s confidence doesn’t waver for a second, and I’m suddenly grateful he’s on our side. The man clearly knows his shit. “It speaks to the case for negligence, your honor. If the tour manager failed to protect my client, it is irrefutable proof of my client’s claims.”
Stacy eyes the judge expectantly.
“I’ll allow it,” Judge Henderson says. “Overruled. The witness will answer.”
“They advised us to have a doctor administer medication and proceed with the shows as planned.”
