Read 2 Dancing With Death for Free Online Page A

thought them, turned out to be analyzing the dancers for weaknesses and competitive level. More than once, she passed a couple and caught snippets of one partner berating the other.
         “You see!” one girl said to her companion, a boy in his teens who looked as though he was near tears. “That’s what I mean when I say tense your arms. His carriage is perfect!”
         “Just look at them,” whispered another girl a few yards down the wall. “They’re wonderful. I’ll never be that good!”
         “They’ll never make it past the first round.”
         “Look at those heels! I bet you anything she’s just wearing them to make us all look clumsy.”
         And on and on. It occurred to Betty that, if her online business ever folded, she’d found the perfect market for an entirely new venture: seminars. The first one would be called “Confidence 101: How to Stand Up to Your Competition and Your Partner in Ballroom Dancing.” Of course, the seminar would only work if she could give it individually. No one would want to be seen attending, lest someone else think them easy prey.
         Betty thought it was all quite ridiculous. Weren’t they here to dance? Then again, maybe that was the problem. Everyone who loved to dance was probably out on the dance floor, enjoying themselves and staying away from the petty gabbers.
         Reaching the drink table, Betty looked hopefully at the selection of beverages. Maybe they had low-sugar soda, or something else she could drink without spiking her blood sugar too much. With her sight all wonky, Betty really didn’t want to risk spiking her blood sugar. Unfortunately, various forms of alcohol and soda seemed her only options. Finally, Betty spotted a single bottle of bubbly water. Perfect. She poured herself a glass, dropped a slice of lemon in it for flavor, and grabbed a cola for Bill. She was just turning to go when she bumped into a tall, balding man wearing a navy pinstripe suit that looked like it had just walked off an Armani shelf. The drinks sloshed dangerously in their cups, but thankfully none spilled. Betty didn’t think she could afford to pay for the dry cleaning if they had.
         “Oh,” she said, beet red from embarrassment.   “I’m so sorry!”
         The man reached out to steady her, smiling. His teeth had to have been bleached, Betty thought. No one’s teeth were that white naturally.
         “It’s no problem,” he said. “I’d love to get bumped into by more beautiful ladies.”
         Betty fought to not roll her eyes. The idea that anyone would consider her beautiful in the midst of all the glitz and glam Barbie dolls in the room was utterly ridiculous.
          “No, really,” the man insisted, seeming to catch on to her disbelief. “You are!”
         Betty laughed nervously. “I’m glad you think so,” she said, starting to head back over to Bill.
         The man moved to block her. “What’s your name?” he asked.
         “Betty,” she said shortly.
         “I’m Harry. Pleased to meet you,” he said, sticking out his hand. Betty held up both hands, tied up with drinks.
         “If you’ll excuse me,” she said. “I need to get back to my friend.”
         The man started to walk with her. “Is she as pretty as you?” he asked. Betty fought the urge to throw up. Did this man really think she was that easy to impress? For a moment, she thought about stringing him along, convincing him that her friend was a knockout, and then introducing him to Bill. She stifled a giggle. She could pretend that she’d thought he was gay. That would be amusing. Then again, she thought, perhaps not. Bill might take it the wrong way.
         “I think that he,” she said, emphasizing the “he,” “is quite handsome.”
         “Ah,” Harry said. “I see. Someone’s already snatched you up.” He stopped for a moment and took one of her hands in his, ignoring the