The stars were out, a bright reflection of the glow Rachel Linden felt within. She never expected to be singled out in a mass of so many, let alone pulled up onto the stage to sing with an established musician. It had happened, though. It had really happened! She squealed with giddy delight, turning to Song Lynn, an interpreter she found through the local VA who had quickly became a good friend.

“Thank you,” she signed. “This was a fabulous night.”

The woman gestured in return. “I had a blast, Rachel. Thanks for inviting me out.”

They said their goodbyes, agreeing to catch up soon over cups of coffee, and each headed towards their cars. Rachel had parked further out than usual since the only two parking spaces designated for handicapped occupants were already filled when she arrived. She wouldn’t have minded so much if the cars occupying the spaces displayed the appropriate permit to be there, but neither did. To add insult to injury, not a single one of the individuals who piled into either vehicle appeared to have special needs.

Rachel glanced away, reminding herself that looks could be deceiving – like in her case. Most individuals didn’t know that she was legally deaf just by her outward appearance. It was one of the reasons she took every opportunity to educate people about the varying degrees of deafness. It was also the reason she refrained from being too judgmental of the people parked in those marked spaces.

Perhaps they forgot to hang the permit on the rearview mirror. Happens to the best of us.

Rachel surveyed her surroundings, noting other music goers who were filing out of the club and into the parking lot. There were all kinds of people out tonight – old and young; posh and punk. Couples held hands; one pair with their heads lovingly close together in what should have been a secret conversation full of passion…

Except she knew how to read lips. Something she learned as a child because of a grandmother who had lost her hearing, the skill had proved useful in the army, and downright vital when she returned from Afghanistan with only twenty percent of her hearing. Of course, there was the unintentional “eavesdropping” that occasionally occurred.

She turned away to allow the couple some privacy and that’s when she saw a string bean of a man jogging towards her, his oily hair greased back in a way that declared the brisk winds of autumn stood no chance. He looked like a man on a mission… and that set her on full alert. She quickly reached into her purse and pulled out a can of pepper spray just as he neared. The man skidded to a stop, his hands held up in self defense.

“Whoa!”

He took a couple of steps back and the muffled sound informed her that he must have been talking, but she couldn’t quite make out what he was saying with his hands blocking his face. She slowly lowered the can, hoping that the move would put him at ease and he’d drop his stance so maybe she could figure out what was going on.

“What?” She asked, clearly annunciating the word. The man slumped with obvious relief, but she still didn’t know what he had said. She waved a hand and shook her head “no” to indicate her confusion.

“No?” The man’s brows shot up with surprise. She stared at his mouth as he questioned her. “You don’t want a private meeting with Eddie Rivera? Well, that’s a first.”

Eddie Rivera?

Was she mistaken, or had he just really mentioned meeting her new favorite singer? She stared at him, trying to formulate the words that would communicate her interest without sounding too desperate. The man shrugged his shoulders and turned to leave.

“Wait.”

The man spun back around and smiled. “Change your mind?”

She squelched the urge to squeal with delight, simply nodding instead. The man held out a hand, which she eagerly took and pumped. His smile grew even wider. “Well, I’m Eddie’s manager. The name’s Jimmy, sweetheart, Jimmy Lee. What’s yours?”

She managed to squeak out her name behind a tight smile of clenched teeth.

He released her hand to playfully bow and then motioned back to the club. “A pleasure, Ms. Linden. Please allow me to escort you to the place where your dreams are bound to come true.”

Rachel followed Jimmy, her mind reeling with a myriad of questions. What did he know about her dreams? Had this all been a setup to begin with? Her friends had opted out of going to the concert – some because of previous engagements and others due to the fact that they didn’t like Latin fusion rock. They all knew she loved it, though. They also knew her longtime dream of singing. Had they purposely set her up for this? Had Song Lynn knew all along she would be pulled on stage? Maybe it was her other friend, Lucy. After all, she was the one who had hooked Rachel onto this kind of music to begin with.

She turned back, but Song Lynn had already left. Rachel could think of no other explanation, though. What were the chances that she would have an interpreter for a friend who specifically signed for concerts, and then get pulled up on stage the same night to sing… only to be approached afterwards by the band manager to help make her dreams come true?

She picked up the pace to keep up with the lanky manager’s long stride, two scurried steps for each one he took. They reached the club and he pulled open the door, holding it for her as she passed back into the building. The colorful stage lights of blues and greens had changed to bright white lights shining down on the crew, busy untangling wires and packing musical instruments. The manager motioned for her to follow him up the same set of stairs she had climbed earlier in the evening to sing onstage. Now she was crossing the same spot she had stood an hour earlier and heading back behind the curtain to a closed door marked “Private.” The manager knocked and it swung open.

There stood Eddie in the entrance, leaning against the frame, long and lean with a sleeveless shirt showing off bulky arms. The left one was tatted with two flags wrapped around each another – one American and the other apparently Mexican.

Rachel squeezed her eyes shut.

Dear God, this might be my only chance. Please don’t let me have a fan girl moment.

She felt a light tap on her arm; heard the muffled voice of someone speak. Her eyes popped back open. She forced a tight smile to keep herself from freaking out. Why had she closed her eyes? She missed whatever he had said.

Eddie frowned, looked over at his manager and then back to Rachel. He cocked his head as if waiting for some kind of response.

“I’m sorry,” Rachel apologized. “I had my eyes closed. I couldn’t read your lips. Not the best move to make when everything sounds like you’re living underwater.” She tried to laugh, but Eddie only stared at her.

“Read my…”

His eyes grew wide. Mouth opened, he turned to his manager shook his head in response.

“Yo, Eddie, I had no idea.”

“You mean you didn’t know that I’m deaf?” Rachel asked, quickly recognizing his look of shock. It was the uncomfortable one she often received whenever someone first learned of her hearing impairment. She would assure him it was not an issue, though. “I was sure Song Lynn or whoever arranged for me to sing onstage would’ve told you. But no worries! I promise I am good for the job.”

“Good for the job?” Eddie mouthed.

“Yes, sir.” She almost raised her hand in a salute, but quickly remembered she was a civilian now. “I may have lost my hearing, but not my voice. I promise I’ll make a great backup singer.”

“A great wha—”

“Excuse us, honey.” Jimmy Lee stepped between her and the musician, pushing Eddie back into his dressing room. “Mr. Rivera and I need to have a quick talk. Why don’t you relax for a minute? There’s a table right over there with a bunch of food on it. Go on and help yourself.”

Rachel glanced over her shoulder to where Jimmy pointed and noted a table filled with a variety of beefy sandwiches, chips, cookies, and any number of soft drinks. It wasn’t exactly the kind of food to make a meal of, but she was feeling hungry despite the nerves beginning to coil in the pit of her stomach. She started towards the table, casting one last look behind her. She wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, but one thing was certain…

Contrary to the lyrics of his rising hit, Eddie Rivera looked less than pleased that she had stepped out of the shadows and into his life.