She smiled thinking about the thousands of questions Carmen had bombarded her with. All of them about Shane of course. She had been insatiable but Bette had been happy to satisfy her curiosity where she could. 
 

After switching off the engine, the brunette reached for the neatly folded piece of paper where Carmen had scribbled down the name of a dance studio that she knew of.
 

"The best dance classes in L.A.!" She had cheerfully said. "Salsa, Samba, Hip-Hop… Whatever you want, you’ll find it there, Bette!"
 

"Tango…" Bette had answered dreamily, "I just want tango…"
 

The brunette looked at the paper with hazy eyes. If anyone had told her 24 hours ago that she would be willing to start dance lessons, she certainly would have laughed at them or even given them one of her infamous ‘what-the-fuck’ looks. Indeed, Bette Porter didn’t do dance, least of all tango… 
 

… All it took was Tina’s offer to dance for her to take that unlikely step.
 

Bette put the paper in her purse, and got out of the car.
 

Tim had to stifle a laugh when he saw the zombie, a beautiful zombie that is, who entered the lab.
 

"Don’t!" Bette warned, raising her finger at her assistant.
 

"I wouldn’t even dream of it! I’m too young to die." Tim answered, trying to keep a straight face.
 

"Okay, I’ll make this short…" Bette started, rolling her eyes, "Wedding, unexpected delivery, Shane’s departure this morning, no sleep…! Now, where are my results?"
 

Tim raised his eyebrow,
 

"Delivery?"
 

"Long story…" The brunette sighed, as she walked away, "Please get me those test results. You know where to find me!"
 

Bette entered her office and went straight to her computer. She needed the address and a phone number for this dance studio. Just then, there was a knock on the door, and Tim appeared.
 

"Wow, you’re fast." She said, looking at him.
 

"Yeah well, not that fast… Just wanted to tell you that Phyllis dropped by. She wanted an update on the last tests, and also to let you know that she really liked your last publication."
 

"Okay, thanks Tim. I’ll be out in a minute." Bette said with a smile. Being in her boss’ good books was a good thing, she really needed to talk to her about Central America. 
 

As soon as her assistant had closed the door, she turned her attention back to her computer and started typing the name Carmen had given her.
 

"’ROSITA’S FIRST STEPS’… Mmmh, isn’t it just the right place for you, Porter!" She said out loud.
 

There was another knock before the door opened on Tim again, and Bette hurriedly hid the window she was browsing with another one on lymphocytes. But the loud salsa music that started on the main page of the studio’s website didn’t seem to mind the interruption and Bette fumbled in panic with the mouse trying to close the page, or at least switch off the volume.
 

She was finally able to turn it down, and lowered her head to hide her embarrassment.
 

"Yes, Tim…" She said, gritting her teeth.
 

Her young assistant grinned,
 

"I just forgot to tell you, Phyllis asked me to remind you about the conference on tropical illnesses and their treatments that you said you’d give at the University of California in San Francisco."
 

"Damn!… I had forgotten about that… When is this again?"
 

"Next week…" Tim replied, raising both eyebrows.
 

Bette let out a big sigh.
 

"Fine… Alright… Sure, I’ll be there! I’ll call Phyllis… Thanks Tim."
 

Tim nodded and started to leave, but right before he did, he passed his head again through the door,
 

"Salsa rules!" He said with a wink, before he disappeared knowing that his boss’ glare would burn a hole into the door.
 

TBC…