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14
I didn’t wantto meet Hunter in the office with the evidence I’d gathered. I wasn’t sure why I was being so nice but I wanted to give him a shot at doing the right thing.
We met in the RI cafeteria. He was already eating his sushi when I rocked up to the table where he sat. I arrived with a tote bag full of my newly organized dossiers.
I set the tote on the table. “Hunter.”
“Lewis.” He said my name with a mouthful of food, finished chewing, then wiped a corner of his mouth. “Welcome back. So, what do you have for me?” He rubbed his hands together.
I laced my fingers and leaned on my elbows, my chin cradled on my fingers. “What I have is all the evidence you’d need to win the current case as well as the countercase. Turns out Drake is the most meticulous bookkeeper known to man. He kept every receipt and record since turning eighteen. Drake did indeed book all the gigs and pay Mr. Fry from his own personal account. Every. Single. Time. He was even able to find old records from the cloud of texts and WhatsApps, providing evidence of his managerial capacity. We contacted old managers and club owners who were willing to give testimony to only ever dealing with Drake, corroborating the story.”
“Hell yeah. Not bad at all.” He rubbed his hands again, as if cleaning off crumbs, getting ready to touch the precious evidence.
I revealed the beautifully organized files. “Here,” I opened one, “are word collections handwritten by Drake. He also has recordings of him jamming and chord collections that show the origination of some of his songs. The ones Jay claims he was involved with. It’s amazing.”
I closed the lyrics folder and opened another. “Here are the receipts, invoices…” I found an external hard drive. “And on here are the recordings of Drake on his own as well as two very valuable session recordings where we’d likely be able to spin that Jay’s lack of involvement is evident. I’m not sure how admissible something like that is, but we shouldn’t have to go there.”
“Thanks, Maeve. I really owe you one.”
He started to slide one of the dossiers in his direction. I slapped my hand down on it to stop him.
“You’re not taking these with you. Not today. Maybe not ever, Hunter.”
He leaned back. “Pzzt. What’s this about?”
I narrowed my eyes. “You drag your heels. You’re in no rush to serve our clients here at RI nor to bill out well-earned hours. Everyone else knows this. I know this. I’m doing you a favor by making you step up and letting you know you’re not invincible. You need to start pulling your weight. And you’re going to start now.”
He rolled his eyes. “No need to get emotional just because Drake’s your man. We both need to stay professional.”
My fists balled, my fingers pressed tightly into my palms as my body prepared to deck this asshole. What a fucking prick. Then again, I had come out all guns blazing. “If you don’t get the mediation date scheduled in the next two weeks, I’ll take this up the ladder. What I’m asking is that you don’t drag your heels anymore. Drake needs this over and done with ASAP.”
“Oh, you’re gonna play the Lewis card, are you, and go up the ladder? I thought you wanted to earn your place here?”
I lifted a dossier. “I have. Two weeks. Max.”
Hunter shook his head. He glanced at me, but only for a moment, then watched some people walk by. He took a drink from his can of soda. Finally, after fidgeting and squirming just like he deserved to do, he said, “Two weeks isn’t very long.”
“It’s plenty. They served us. Not the other way around. You don’t serve without ample evidence mostly intact.”
“True. But the countersuit…”
“We’re only proposing that if they won’t settle out of court by dropping the case.”
“I don’t get why we wouldn’t…”
Originally, my plan was to make Jason Fry and his pirating production company get kicked to hell by the steel-toed boot of bankruptcy. But now, Drake wasn’t himself anymore. He was burnt out. Tired. I didn’t know exactly how to diagnose what was going on, but it didn’t matter, because the end of this case was likely the cure for whatever was going on. And along with the end of this, the beginning of him hitting a stage again would be better than any anti-anxiety pill I’d ever taken.
“Look, Hunter, Drake doesn’t want to. And why would RI care? In two weeks, if you do your job, we can all move on to bigger and better things. Get the date and you’ll get the evidence. Hopefully, this will be the last time you let someone else do your job for you.”
I really couldn’t waitfor Drake to get back now. All I could think about was getting this lawsuit over and done with so we could move on with our lives. He had one more day with his mom in Seattle. To bide my time, I’d texted Tyran, who’d been working harder than usual recently. He was always a great source of entertainment.
It was eight-thirty p.m., the earliest either of us ever seemed to be able to grab dinner these days, and thankfully, we both worked in Hollywood or it might have been later.
He’d picked a vegan restaurant, and I wondered who he dated this time. I arrived first and used the time to text Drake.
ME: Hey, babe! Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. Less than twenty-four hours to go. I love you so much it hurts. I thought you said love doesn’t hurt lol
DRAKE: It doesn’t hurt. That’s longing. Get your words straight, woman. I miss you, too. Making the most of last night’s lasagne.
