So the Heart Can Dance (A Hidden Beauty Novel Book 2)

by Mary Crawford

  The contract is burning a proverbial hole in my pocket. Part of me wants to just brush aside Tara’s concerns and sign the darn thing, just to get it over with. Unfortunately, I can’t un-hear the conversation and pretend everything is hunky-dory.

  I hear the sliding door behind me open and Tara steps out. She’s carrying two cups of coffee. I can’t contain my grin when I see her.

  Much to my relief, Tara returns the smile with a bright one of her own. Her distress of last night seems to have dissipated.

  “I got you some coffee,” Tara says, putting it on the small table next to me. “I figure today’s going to be a long day, and you might need it.”

  “Thanks, Gracie,” I respond, drinking deeply from the large coffee. “You’re a lifesaver.”

  “What are you doing out here?” Tara asks between sips of coffee.

  “I’m trying to decide which song to start with,” I explain. “We all need a song from each decade, but I think it’s up to us which one we choose to perform first.”

  “I was going to ask you what songs you’ve chosen, but I changed my mind,” Tara remarks. “I want to be surprised like everybody else. It doesn’t matter what you sing anyway; whatever you sing, I know you’ll knock it right out of the park.”

  “It’s too bad that you can’t sit on the judging panel,” I quip.

  “I wish I could too, but you don’t need that kind of help. You’re going to do just fine,” Tara says as she walks over and gives me a kiss. It catches me off guard. After last night, I expected her to be withdrawn and shy this morning. It doesn’t take long, though, before instincts override logic and I kiss her back. Her kisses taste like coffee and cream, and I struggle to keep my body calm. I don’t want to trigger a setback again.

  Reluctantly, I break the kiss and draw her into a hug. I rest my chin on the top of her head. I can’t help but marvel how natural it feels. All the nerves and angst I was feeling melted away when she walked in the room.

  “I have to say, this is my favorite way to start the day, ever,” I murmur against her hair.

  Tara giggles. “It doesn’t suck, that’s for sure.”

  “Well, technically, it could,” I quip, wagging my eyebrows at her.

  Tara rolls her eyes. “You couldn’t just leave it at sweet and romantic, could you? You just have to push those boundaries.”

  I grin, “You know me, I have a talent for sticking my foot in my mouth.”

  “It’s going to be hard to sing around that!”

  I laugh and tweak her nose. “You’re so funny, I forgot to laugh.”

  She ducks and laughs, “You sound really mature there, AJ. Are you sure you’re old enough to enter the singing competition?”

  “Did you not see that nine-year old yesterday?” I counter.

  Tara arches her eyebrow and deadpans, “Exactly!”

  I look around at the warehouse-turned-sound-stage. There are significantly less people today, yet the sound level isn’t any better. Even Tara winces as a group of teenage girls shriek wildly. Tara winks and puts on her name tag. She signs, “You may as well take advantage of the silence. I don’t think you’re going to miss anything right now.”

  I gratefully sign, “Thank you,” and reach up to turn off my receivers. “I owe you big-time for thinking of this.”

  Tara just shrugs and signs, “That’s why I’m here, and there’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

  I find a quiet deserted corner of the warehouse and pull out my guitar. I start with a dry run through the cords in the song I plan to do first. I’m on the third practice run when Tara alerts me to the fact that Clover Branch has arrived. I place my guitar on the chair next to me and stand up to shake her hand. “Good morning, Ms. Branch. How are you, this morning?”

  “Oh, Aidan, I’m glad to see that you made it bright and early. Are you ready for this?” she asks as she fiddles with the clipboard she’s carrying. She seems surprised to find me here. I don’t know if it’s because she expected me to chicken out or if she’s merely distracted.

  “I honestly don’t know. Is anyone really ready for all of this?”

  “No, but it helps us sort out the people that aren’t serious about this. I’m sure you’re going to do just fine. Do you have the paperwork I gave you yesterday?”

  I walk back over to where my guitar is and pull the paperwork out of my guitar case. Clover takes it from my hand and leafs through it. “You missed the signature page,” she observes as she points out the empty page.

  “Actually, that was intentional. I have some questions about the contract.” I respond. I know this is a huge gamble, but there are some things in the contract which bother me.

  Clover looks shocked as she exclaims, “You actually read this whole thing?”

  Now it’s my turn to be perplexed. I ask Tara in sign language if I understood correctly. When she confirms that I’m correct, I ask Clover, “Doesn’t everyone read the contract before they sign it?”

  Clover grimaces. “You’d be surprised. Most people only check to see how much they’re going to get paid. They never read the rest of the contract. The fact that you did impresses me.”

  “Wow, that really shocks me,” I remark. “This contract basically means I’m signing my life over to you forever. I’m not sure I’m okay with that. Can we see about changing the language in the contract?”

  Clover looks like I’ve slapped her in the face. Her confident body language disappears and she definitely looks less than intimidating now. “I don’t know the answer to that,” she responds. “I’ve never had anybody ask about the language in the contract. I’ll have to talk to my supervisor. I’ll let you get back to practicing while I make a few phone calls,” Clover instructs brusquely.

  I glance at Tara to gauge her reaction, but she has her professional front up, she's in full interpreter mode. Her expression is completely placid and neutral.

  “Well, I guess I’ll go back to tuning my guitar. You know where to find me.” There’s not much else to say. I really can’t believe people sign up for things as big as this, without reading what they’re committing to.

  I gather up my guitar and notes and leave the room with Tara following. As we return to our little corner of the ‘holding pen’, I turn to Tara and sign, “Can you believe that?”

  Tara nods. “You’d be surprised what people agree to, when they think it might get them fame or fortune. More often than not, common sense is left at the door.”

  “I wonder what she’s going to say? I can’t believe they’ve never had this issue come up before.”

  Tara shrugs. “I don’t know, but almost any alteration, if you can get one, would be an improvement.”

  A few minutes later, Clover returns to where Tara and I are sitting. She motions me over to a small office. “The show’s producers want to know what you object to in the contract,” she demands in an agitated tone.

  “Well, I guess I don’t understand why you would need my image in perpetuity. If I win this contest, I would be touring and doing publicity for the show for a couple of years –- that should be enough.”

  Clover’s eyebrows scrunch together as she writes my comments down on her legal pad. “Is there anything else?” she inquires, in a tone which conveys the message that she would really rather not hear any more of my concerns.

  I’m not sure if I’m about to commit professional suicide or not. I could be kissing my dreams goodbye as I continue. “Well, I would like the contract to be amended to reflect our discussions about not using my deafness to promote me over other candidates,” I add.

  The corners of Clover’s mouth turned down in a full-fledged frown. “Well, I’ll see what I can do. I can’t make any promises.” With that big declaration, Clover abruptly leaves the room.

  Tara and I look at each other in shock. Suddenly, Tara starts to giggle. “What’s so funny?” I inquire.

  “I don’t think Ms. Branch is very happy with you. You just made her day exponentially harder. But, I want you to
know that I’m so proud of you for standing up for yourself.”

  I lean over and give her a quick kiss on the forehead. “How can I not? How could I disregard what you have to say?”

  Tara smiles up my answer. “I wondered how long it would take you to say that,” she says with a wink.

  “What do you think she plans to do?” I ask, nervously pacing the length of the small office.

  She shakes her head and replies, “I have no idea. But your singing career is safe, because you’re just amazing. If it isn’t this show, it will be something even more promising. I don’t know what it is about this show, but things may not be as they appear. So, I don’t think it’s a bad idea to let them know upfront that you have boundaries.”

  “But what if I pushed too hard? I know this seems like just a stupid reality show to you. Still, it’s more visibility than I’ve ever had. I’m not sure that I can afford to turn it down.”

  Tara shrugs. “Well, you’ve already put it out there. You can’t take it back. But these things have a way of working themselves out, in the end. I think this show needs you more than you need them. Maybe I’m biased, but most of the other talent just isn’t even close to what they need.”

  “I hope you’re right,” I mutter. I pull my guitar out of the case. Since the environment is quieter, I’m able to turn on my receivers again.

  Tara looks at me quizzically. “I totally forgot you had unplugged. How can you tune your guitar without hearing it?”

  “It’s easier with the cochlear implants, but before the implants, I got used to playing a guitar with no hearing. Each note is a vibrating string, and I can feel it in my fingers. After all these years, I know what a note should feel like. My vocal coach was blown away, when he compared my results to a tuning fork.”

  “Wow!” Tara exclaims. “That’s so impressive.”

  I shrug as I brush off her praise. “It’s not all that impressive, it’s just what I do.”

  “It may be easy for you, but I’ll bet nobody else in this building can do it! Eventually, news will leak that you’re deaf, and people will be fascinated by what you can do. It’s human nature.”

  I stop pacing to look at Tara. “Sure, but I don’t want people thinking I’m milking the deafness card.”

  “I understand that, but whether you like it or not, people will see you as a role model. Think about what your example can mean for other deaf people. You’re not the only one affected. You want to be self-reliant, and I admire that, but take it too far and you could be considered selfish.”

  “I don’t have any choice, do I? It’s not like I can get up in the morning and shave off all my deafness,” I answer sarcastically. I immediately feel like pond scum when Tara’s smile disappears and she stiffens.

  “Forget I said anything,” Tara says tightly. I watch in dismay as a glacial mask falls over expression and she retreats behind the wall of professional behavior.

  “Sorry, Tara, I’m tired and cranky, but you make a valid point.”

  “Aidan, I know this stuff is crazy stressful, but you can’t let it all get in your head,” Tara advises.

  The door opens abruptly and Clover walks in followed by a serious guy wearing a suit. I look at Tara and my uneasy feelings must be written all over my face, because her professional mask slips for just a moment. But then, as if she knew that would only make things worse, she slams it back in place.

  “Do you want me to interpret?” she signs small enough that only I can see.

  “Yes, it looks like they brought in a legal eagle. I’d better make sure I understand every word.”

  “Okay, no problem,” Tara signs. When everyone has their head down looking for paperwork, Tara gives me a reassuring smile and a wink. It’s just the comic relief I need at this moment. I take a deep breath and blow it out.

  “Mr. O’Brien,” Clover begins after she clears her throat. “You’ve made some unorthodox requests. As you know, your requests could place 5 Star Creative Industries and Arts in an awkward situation. Other contestants could view your requests for accommodation as unequal treatment,” she explains patiently, as if she’s talking to a three-year-old.

  I can feel my muscles tense like I’m getting ready to get in a fight. I know this feeling well, because Rory and I used to fight all the time when we were kids. So I look Mr. Uptight in the eye and shake his hand. “I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Ms. Branch, but I don’t think we’ve met,” I say, letting my words trail off.

  Startled, he extends his hand and responds, “I’m Theodore Nordson, legal counsel for 5-Star.”

  Well, that didn’t take long. I think I can probably kiss my chances in this competition goodbye. Maybe I should have brought Jeff with me too. He did tell me at the wedding if I ever needed anything, to give them a call. I wonder if this was the sort of situation he meant?

  “I didn’t expect to need an attorney. So you have me at a disadvantage,” I reply as I withdraw my hand.

  Mr. Nordson bristles as he retorts, “Surely, Mr. O’Brien, you must realize your requests are quite unusual for us.”

  “I’m surprised that you haven’t heard from other singers about the contract. I find it hard to believe everyone else thinks it’s fine to sign away their rights to their image forever.”

  A mutinous expression crosses his face as he answers in a clipped tone, “I’m not at liberty to discuss other people’s contracts.”

  “Great!” I say, trying to keep a smile off my face. “That means that you won’t have any trouble keeping the details of this conversation private.”

  Mr. Nordson clinches his jaw and frustration. “We are prepared to offer you a contract without the perpetuity provision,” he states. “However, we can’t change the marketing piece to guarantee that your deafness will not be discussed.”

  “That’s not exactly what I was asking for—” I try to interrupt to clarify.

  “Mr. O’Brien, we cannot change our marketing piece just to accommodate you,” Mr. Nordson argues firmly. “We can try our best to not make it the focus of your contestant profile, but beyond that we can make no promises.”

  The pressure is immense. I glance at Tara, but she’s busy trying to observe the conversation between Clover and Mr. Nordson. For a moment, I wish I was able to have her available now as my friend, rather than my interpreter. Their offer seems fair enough at this point. They seem to have taken out most of the provisions that Tara found objectionable. When I’m able to catch her eye, I sign, “Would you?”

  She gives me an almost imperceptible smile and signs, “It’s your dream; if it’s worth the risk, go for it.”

  So, this is it. It’s time to reach for the brass ring. Am I brave enough to be serious about this? As I think back over the last 10 years, there’s only one answer I can come up with.

  “Mr. Nordson and Ms. Branch, with the changes you’ve agreed to make in the contract, I am more than happy to join your talent show.”

  When I see the expression on Mr. Nordson's face, I wonder if I should’ve pushed harder. He looks positively gleeful, like the Cheshire cat who just ate a canary. I don’t know if it only means that they’re happy I agreed, or if it means they’re still trying to pull one over on me. Either way, it makes me nervous.

  Clover looks me over and says, “I can’t wait to get you into hair and makeup. We’ll get you all cleaned up and give you a more modern look. It’s a shame to cut all that hair, but I think it needs to be done.”

  “Clover, not to disrespect your advice, but my hair serves more than just one purpose. It’s not there just to make me look like a rock star.” I pull my hair back off my scalp and show her my cochlear implant receiver.

  Clover and Mr. Nordson recoil at the sight. “Oh my!” she says. “That is quite disturbing.”

  This is not the first time I’ve heard similar comments, but it is the first time I’ve heard it in a professional setting. I’m not sure how to respond, but humor is often my best weapon.

  “Yes, I agree it’s a
bit freaky. My own mother just about fainted, the first time she saw this. She’s the one who suggested growing my hair long so she wouldn’t have to look at it.”

  Clover is chewing on the end of her pencil as she glances back and forth between Tara and me. “ Maybe we should explain that bit of hardware to the viewers. We wouldn’t want them thinking that you’re using some device to cheat,” she suggests with a thoughtful look.

  Dolores always says that one of these days my mouth is going to get me into trouble. But I still can’t seem to stop myself from saying, “Now Clover, I thought we had resolved the question of whether I was cheating. Anyway, they’re receivers –-not speakers.”

  Clover’s eyes light up as she announces, “That’s a spectacular idea,” she says, totally ignoring my point about what the devices do. “We can have all the contestants sing songs called out by the audience, the same as I did with you earlier.”

  “I have no problem with that, as you know from my demonstration yesterday, but some of the other contestants could be up in arms.”

  “Oh, I think they’ll be fine,” she assures me. “The rules state we can change the format of the show as we see fit. We’ll try to announce the change as far in advance as we can, so contestants have a chance to try to get ready.”

  It’s all I can do not to roll my eyes. If you don’t do what I’ve done for the last several years, you have no idea what it takes to know a vast variety of songs and perform them well. Although it makes it a little bit harder on me to have to do a random song, I suspect that factor alone might wipe out some of my competition.

  I grimace as I suggest, “How about we see how well I do in the early rounds of the competition before you start changing the rules for everybody? I might totally bomb out, and none of it would be necessary.”

  “I like that idea. If we change the script of the show, we have to re-block and change the lights.”