Dead on the Dance Floor by Heather Graham

petite blonde laughed. “Good heavens, no. Richard is a dermatologist and plastic surgeon. I’m a lowly, hardworking pediatrician.”
    â€œShe’s far more noble,” Richard said, grinning.
    â€œYou’re the artist,” his wife teased back.
    His arm, casually around her shoulders as they sat in the expansive booth, tightened affectionately. “We simply thank God we don’t work together. That way, we get to enjoy the time we do share.”
    â€œGreat,” Quinn said.
    â€œHere, please, sit,” Mina Long said, inching closer to her husband.
    â€œI don’t want to crowd you.”
    â€œOh, please, don’t worry,” Richard said. “We’re only here for a few minutes longer. We have to join some other friends across the room. In fact…we were about to dance?” He wasn’t looking at his wife but across the table at Shannon.
    â€œThat’s the music you want?” she asked.
    â€œThat’s it,” he told her.
    â€œExcuse me, then…?”
    Bobby and Giselle moved out, allowing Shannon to slip from the booth. She brushed past Quinn, who excused himself, moving backward again to allow her more room.
    â€œSit, bro,” Doug said, as the others slid back in. “So how did you like your lesson?”
    â€œIt was…great,” Quinn said. He watched as Shannon took the floor with Richard Long. A moment later, they were moving with astonishing grace, taking up the floor, entwined in seemingly impossible ways, and doing it so well that many of the people on the floor moved back, cheering.
    â€œThat’s salsa?” Quinn said.
    â€œSamba,” Gordon told him.
    He looked across the table at Mina. “And do you dance, too, Dr. Long?”
    â€œOh, yes.” She laughed pleasantly. “But not like Shannon.” She grinned. “Richard and I dance together at social functions, of course. But frankly, he prefers Shannon—and I prefer Sam. Sam Railey. He’s my teacher. Two amateurs naturally dance better with two professionals.” She leaned closer across the table. “I’m afraid Richard is showing off tonight. We have to join a few of his professional associates in a minute.”
    â€œAh, I see,” Quinn said.
    She smiled again. It would have been a great smile—if it hadn’t appeared that her entire face might shatter. “You will see. Wait until you get into it more. Hey, have you seen your brother dance?”
    â€œBelieve it or not, I haven’t.”
    Mina Long looked at Doug. “I’m not exactly Jane or Shannon, but we can give your big brother a bit of show, if you like?”
    â€œAbsolutely,” Doug agreed. “Sorry,” he said apologetically to the others again.
    â€œHey, we might as well dance, too,” Bobby told his bride.
    â€œMight 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?”
    â€œGood save,” Doug muttered, and they all laughed.
    â€œPretty darned good, yes,” Mina agreed, and she took his hand, heading for the dance floor.
    â€œHow did you enjoy your lesson?” Gordon Henson asked Quinn.
    â€œYou 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.
    â€œThose 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