Ginny started to get up from her seat. "I'll go get him."
Linda reached out with her hand, to stop her. At that same moment, Stephen raised himself from his chair. He was starting to walk in their direction. Unfortunately, Pete Rabelstein plopped himself down at the other empty seat. "Hey ladies!" he said, with his carnival harker voice. "Long time no see."
Ginny made no attempt to hide her disgust, her features curling into an indignant snarl. "How's things on the assembly line?"
He grinned at her through whiskers of a bushy mustache and beard. "Not bad. How's things at the dime-a-dance?"
Linda stifled a laugh, and thankfully Stephen arrived to divert the attention away from them. They introduced each other, while the tables around them filled up and the staff of the dance studio whisked about here and there, taking care of last minute details.
Stephen and Pete carried on a conversation across the table from each other, making the seating arrangement girl-boy-girl-boy. "Hey, Steve, this is your first party?" Pete asked.
"Yes, I had my first lesson on Tuesday," Stephen replied. "I was so danged nervous I wonder how I even got through it. And call me Stephen, please."
Pete smirked. "Ah, it's just like basketball. The crowd's all cheering and you're so freaked out your heart's gonna beat a hole right through your chest. And then the ref tosses the jump ball…and you play!"
Pete and Stephen laughed while Ginny shook her head and rolled her eyes.
"Yeah, I guess so," Stephen replied.
"Hey Steve, did your teeth fall out of your head when they told you how much it cost?" Pete went on.
Stephen muttered "Stephen" under his breath, choosing not to dignify Pete's question.
Pete laughed. "Yeah, the way I figure it, we're all getting ripped off together."
Linda desperately wanted to change the subject. "So, Stephen, what do you do?"
She stressed his name and glanced over at Pete.
"I'm an engineer," he said proudly.
At that moment Ron took the mike to emcee the party. He started things off with a rousing swing. Linda looked at Stephen, but before she could say anything, Ginny grabbed him by the arm. "Let's go, hon," she said.
Pete reached across the table for her. "Let's cut it, baby!" and he ushered her out onto the floor. A catchy Michael McDonald tune played on the stereo as Pete took Linda into dance position for his loose, hammy lead. As the music played he tossed her into turns without holding his hand high enough, brought her into sweetheart passes with such a tight grip it squeezed her ribs, and stepped on her twice. Other than that, she supposed, he wasn't a half-bad dancer.