Ron tugged a chair a couple of inches backward for Linda as she lowered herself into it. "I did have fun," Linda said. "It was a blast." She glanced at Ron, using her peripheral vision, and saw him leaning in toward Maggie, a wide smile on his face.
"That's great," Maggie said. She turned to Ron and tilted her head. "So, you're the boss. How'd she do?"
"Oh, we're going to have so much fun! We should go for bronze, silver, gold!"
"What's that?" Linda asked. "It sounds like the Olympics."
Maggie smiled warmly at her. "Actually, he's giving you a compliment. Bronze, silver, and gold are the levels of accomplishment for dances recognized worldwide. Gold dancers are the best, silver dancers are really good, too. But bronze is the first level everyone strives for. As a bronze dancer you can dance with anyone, anywhere."
Linda said "Well, I want to get really good."
Maggie brightened, opening her arms to Linda in a welcoming gesture. "Well then, bronze it is!"
Ron was so happy he lifted himself from his chair and leaned over to hug Linda. "I'm so glad," he said. "You're going to have so much fun."
Maggie's glamorous features took on a tinge of seriousness. "We can get you started on the program right away."
"Great!" Linda said, reaching for her purse. "Do you need me to pay the $19.95 I owe you for the first session?"
Maggie waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, let's not worry about that now. We want to start you off on your exciting and glamorous future as a dancer, don't we?"
"Yes, I would love that!" Ron reached over and held her hand. "Is there something I have to sign? Should I make an appointment for my next lesson?"
"We can make an appointment for you before you leave," Maggie said. "Now I saw what a good time you had out there, and I know you've wanted to learn to dance for a long time."
"That's right!" Linda said, wondering whether Maggie was going to shock her by saying that she also knew about the mysterious gentleman in the marble dancing hall.
"I say we make it official!" Maggie said, with a resounding air of confidence. "I want to show you the best program we have."
Linda suddenly felt uneasy, like the time she visited a Chevrolet dealership, when she thought she might want to retire Myrtle. They'd taken her car keys and kept her sequestered in a small room with two sales managers, the same as this one. "Okay," she said cautiously. "What is it?"