Dead On The Dance Floor

“Might as well?” Giselle said with a groan. “See, Bobby, it is as if we’ve been married forever.”

Bobby laughed. “Sorry. My beloved wife, would you do me the honor of dancing with me?”

“Good save,” Doug muttered, and they all laughed.

“Pretty darned good, yes,” Mina agreed, and she took his hand, heading for the dance floor.

“How did you enjoy your lesson?” Gordon Henson asked Quinn.

“You know, quite frankly, I went because Doug bought me the guest passes and he was so into it himself. But I was surprised. I did enjoy it,” Quinn said, his eyes on his brother and Mina.

His brother, he noted, was good. Bobby and Giselle, both beginners, weren’t as smooth but obviously enjoyed themselves.

“Those two only came in to take some classes before their wedding. They keep coming back,” Gordon told him. Then he leaned against the table. “So, what do you do, Mr. O’Casey?”

Quinn didn’t have a chance to answer him. A man approached the table, calling out cheerfully, “Gordon! I’ll be damned. They actually got you in here?”

The man was tall, dark, good-looking, casually dressed in an open-neck black silk shirt, tan trousers and a dark jacket. His eyes were dark, too, his face deeply bronzed.

“Yeah, they dragged me down,” Gordon said, half rising to shake the newcomer’s hand.

“Gabe, this is Quinn O’Casey, Doug’s brother, a new student. Quinn, meet Gabriel Lopez, entrepreneur extraordinaire! Suede is his club.”

“How do you do?” Quinn said, shaking hands with Lopez.

“Great, thanks. And welcome. You ever been in here before?”

Quinn shook his head. “Never. I’m a total novice.”

“You’ll like it. I get the best musicians, even during the week. We keep up the floor, and our kitchen turns out amazing food.”

“So far, so good,” Quinn said.

“You haven’t been on the dance floor yet?”

Quinn grinned. “No. And you won’t see me on it for a very long time, I assure you.”

Lopez had slid into the booth next to him. “My friend, you’ll be surprised, don’t you think, Gordon?”

Gordon nodded. “Dancing gets in your blood. You hear the music, you have to move.” He shrugged, staring at the floor. “Maybe you don’t get to be a Shannon Mackay right away, but look at Doug. Six months, and he’s quite impressive. Most importantly, he’s having fun.”

“Yeah, he really enjoys it. And hey, what a setup you two have here,” Quinn said, including Lopez. “You learn upstairs, you dance downstairs. Couldn’t have been planned better.”

“True,” Gordon agreed. “And it wasn’t even planned.”

“This wasn’t a club before?”

“It’s always been a restaurant—with an excuse for a dance floor,” Lopez said. He shrugged. “When I came down, a year or so ago now, I saw the potential in the place. The other owners weren’t making use of the gold mine they had.”

“We have a great relationship,” Gordon explained. “We have the same people come in to take care of the floors, and we both get a deal that way.”

“They send me their students all the time,” Lopez said.

“And we have a place to send our students, so that they have a good time and want to take more lessons,” Gordon said, then pointed toward the ceiling. “The other tenant in the building is a designer and costumer. She’s great, too. Katarina. When someone is looking for a dress—for a night out on the town, or for a competition—they just go right across the hall. You couldn’t get a better setup.”

Lopez nodded and stood. “Well, back to business. Welcome, Mr. O’Casey.” He cocked his head, smiling. “Are you a cop, too? With your brother and his friends around now, we feel safe all the time.”

Quinn shook his head. “No, sorry, I’m not a cop. I’m into boats. Charters, diving, fishing,” Quinn said. Absolutely true, just not the whole story.

“Ah, I see. Well, then, you’re a lucky man, too. There’s nothing in the world like the sea.”

“Nothing like it,” Quinn agreed.

“Enjoy your night,” Lopez said.

“See you, Gabe,” Gordon said.

Lopez walked away, toward the kitchen.

“He’s a great guy,” Gordon said.

“Seems to be,” Quinn agreed.

“Hey, you want to see your brother really look good?” Gordon asked. There was a note of pride in his voice.

Quinn looked back to the floor. The couples had all switched around. Doug was dancing with Shannon Mackay, and there were only a few people on the floor now. The music had changed, as had the dance. It was sweeping and incredibly graceful.

“Bolero,” Gordon told him briefly.

The dance was beautiful. And Doug was good, made all the better by the elegance of his partner.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone move so…”

“You mean your brother?” Gordon teased.

Quinn shook his head, grinning. “Ms. Mackay.”

“She’s the best,” Gordon said.

“Hey, Quinn, can we slip back in?”

His head jerked up. Bobby and Giselle had returned. Panting. Quinn hadn’t realized he had been almost transfixed, watching the dancers.

“You’re not doing the bolero?” he asked the pair.

Bobby snorted. “Every time we try it together, we trip each other. I’m actually kind of hopeless.”

“You’re not!” Giselle protested.