Read 2 Dancing With Death for Free Online Page B

soda and raising her fingers to his lips. When he let go, Betty fought the urge to wipe her hand off on her dress. “I know when I’m beaten,” he said. And with that, he turned and wove his way back through the crowd. No doubt looking for another “beautiful lady,” Betty thought, laughing to herself. He may have been a bit over the top, but it had been fun to be flirted with for a moment.
         “Are you okay Betty?” Bill asked when she reached him. “Was that man bothering you?”
         Betty smiled at him. “I’m fine. He was just a big flirt. I let him know I was already here with someone,” she said, flashing him a quick smile. Bill’s eyes widened, and it suddenly occurred to Betty how forward she sounded. She backpedaled, trying not to stumble over her words. “Not that we’re…” she laughed nervously. “Thank you for being my excuse. Anyhow, are you enjoying yourself?” she asked, staring pointedly out at the dancers.
         After an awkward moment, Bill replied, “Absolutely. I’ve been watching Clarise and Wes. I had no idea they were actually good.”
         Betty felt her stomach sink a little. Don’t be silly, she told herself. So he didn’t correct you. That doesn’t mean anything. You’ve read too many romance novels, that’s all. Snap out of it!
         To take her mind off of her foolishness and crush, Betty focused on trying to peer through the moving blurs to pick out her friends. Her eyes refused to cooperate. Betty closed them for a moment, hoping that when she opened her eyes her vision would’ve suddenly returned to normal. Then again, she thought as her wish failed, she might as well have wished for a pot of gold and glass slippers. Diabetes would do what it would. The only thing she could do was ride it out.
         “See?” Bill said, gesturing somewhere out on the dance floor. “They’re having a blast!”
         Betty nodded, pretending she could see what Bill was looking at.
         “Who are your friends?” asked a woman in her forties, coming up from Betty’s right. She was dressed in a pants suit and leaned heavily on a cane. Bill pointed them out in the crowd, and the woman smiled. “They aren’t here to compete, are they?”
         Betty shook her head. “Not really,” she said. “They’ve entered, but they’re more here for the fun of it.”
         The woman’s smile widened. “That’s so good to hear!” she said. “Too many people are in it for the prize money, instead of because they love dancing.” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Grace Nell.”
         “Betty Crawford,” Betty said, shaking her hand. “And I know what you mean. I heard some things a little while ago… I was wondering if anyone else was here just for fun.”
         Grace looked out at the dance floor. “Some ballroom dance competitions are more for fun, but they’re usually beginners. Once you reach the professional level, things tend to get a little out of hand.”   She gestured to her bad leg. “This happened because I dared to go up against Emily Knolhart in all her glory.” In response to Betty’s surprised look, Grace continued hastily. “Oh, no one can prove it, and no one ever will. She’s too good at what she does to be caught at it. But she was the only one I could think of who stood to gain by cutting one of my high heels half off.” She smiled ruefully. “Mind you, I don’t think she intended to injure me permanently. Just get me out of that one competition.” She looked back out at the dancers. “But, in a way, she did me a favor. Now, instead of spending all my time worrying about the next competition, I can go back to enjoying dance. I teach now.” Grace smiled. “Some of my students are competing here today in the beginner section. They’re having so much fun. They don’t care about the fact they’ll probably never win the prize money. They’re just here to dance. Like your friends. It’s nice to