“But, he is making it sound like an accusa. . .” Simon looked to Tawny trying to gauge her reaction.
“No one is accusing . . .” Tawny tried to soothe the man’s fragile ego.
Jonathan with a calmer demeanor spoke again. “Simon, I’m not accusing you. The money is here. Somewhere. But, the time to find out where is running out. I just want you to do your job. Look at the numbers again.”
“I keep good books.” Simon sounded slightly calmer. He gazed around the table at the other board members who still remained silent. He saw no condescension in their eyes. He had worked with all of them for a long time. They trusted him. But this Jonathan, he was too big for his britches. He turned to the co-chair and nodded in his direction. He’d look at the numbers again if that was what it took to appease him.
“Yes, Simon,” he tried to placate the man. “Four years and your numbers have been perfect. Mistakes happen. I’m not saying it’s yours,” he added quickly when it looked like Simon was about to protest again. “I’m just saying there is a mistake, somewhere, and I need you to find it. For all of us. Before the audit. Can you do that? Can you try?”
Simon’s eyes rolled, but his quick nod was enough. Tawny decided to call it a day. “Good, and if you need help, let us know. Let’s meet again at the end of the week, and see what we have come up with.” Nods and murmurs could be seen and heard all around the massive oak table in the Mystic Nights Casino & Spa’s board room. “We are all in this together. Let’s remember who we are doing this for,” Tawny ended on a positive note. There were more murmurs and assents of agreement before everyone was finally dismissed.
The room began to clear out quickly with the various department heads and board members heading to their offices. Her son was heading out of the massive set of double glass doors.
“Jonathan, hang back.” Tawny’s words were spoken softly. Her small hand on his bicep made it a command rather than a simple request. When his mother spoke, he listened. Mystic Nights wasn’t just his job, it was his passion, and his family and reservation’s life’s blood. Too many people had wanted it to fail. He knew his mother had given her life to make this a success. It wouldn’t fail on his watch.
Even before she spoke he already knew what she would say. But he prepared himself for it anyway. “Jonathan, that’s not how we operate.” Her words weren’t condescending, but advisory.
He shook his head at his own loss of control and professionalism. He knew getting angry wasn’t the way to do business. “Mother, I’m sorry I blew up. But Simon should have been telling us weeks if not months ago that the numbers weren’t adding up. He shouldn’t have surprised us with these numbers like this today . . .”
“He’s never had to report in early before. We kind of put him on the spot today,” she reminded him.
“Those reports should always be up to date and accurate. And I wasn’t expecting major losses. We’ve always turned a remarkable profit.” His hand swept through his closely cropped dark brown hair, pushing it back off of his forehead.
“I can postpone my trip if you want me to be here for the audit.” Her eyes searched his face. She was sure he could handle it, but would stay if he felt he needed her.
“No, I can handle it. I’ll figure it out. Even if I have to examine all the books myself.”
“I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”
He cut her off. “No, go on your trip. I will handle this.” He didn’t want his mother to lose her vacation over this. She rarely took time off for herself.
His mother gave him one more measured look. Her son was good at what he did, very good. Efficient and capable. Dependable. Like his father. She gave him her quick assent, but still wasn’t sure the accounting issues were all that were bothering him.
Since New Year’s Eve he had been sullen and moody. She thought it might have something to do with the dancer he left with. But he hadn’t mentioned her at all in the weeks since. And during last night’s performance, the daggers he gave Miss Aliya Chance, well, she’d been afraid they might knock the poor girl off the stage. A mother’s instinct told her something was going on there.
“I’ll handle it,” he repeated, misconstruing her silence for something else. She stood and began to pack up her things, giving him a tentative smile.
“I’m sure you will, darling.” And she knew he would figure it out too. He always had been determined and focused as a child. He persisted until he got what he wanted. Very tenacious. He was very good at what he did. Since becoming co-chair of the board last year, he had taken over most of the day to day operations of the casino. He was born for this position. She was more than willing to give him the lead on this even though it was hard to cut the strings, but she knew it was something she needed to do. For him. For the casino, and for her people. She’d been grooming him for this his whole life. And he was ready. Even if he was a tad hot headed at times. That he got from her.
“Are you sure this is all that’s bothering you?” Again, it was her intuition that made her ask.
He saw her slightly raised eyebrow and knew if he didn’t distract her soon she’d ask about Aliya. She’d been dropping hints about it often enough. His sex life was off limits. Aliya included. He still couldn’t fathom her rejection of him, and the cold shoulder he’d been given whenever their paths crossed was grating on him, though he refused to admit it. “I am fine.” He rushed forward and stooped down to press a kiss to his Mom’s cheek, then stood back up to his full height of five foot eleven.
Tawny watched her confidant son leave the board room. Her head told her he’d be able to handle it, but she also sensed that it was ‘this’ something else that was bothering him. Her gut told her to pay close attention to her family this week before she parted for her vacation. And she had been looking forward to it immensely. She was always so focused and driven, and this yearly respite was something she needed to rejuvenate.
But she didn’t leave for her yearly trip for another week. In the meantime she would keep close tabs on her children. And Simon too. Her son’s instincts about him were mirroring her own, but perhaps not for the same reasons. She just expressed herself much more diplomatically now that she was older, and wiser. When it came to handling men, in business or politics, she was as adept as they came. Forty eight years of life throwing you all kinds of challenges made one stronger and more patient. But it was tiresome too. Her age might be catching up to her. Sighing, she left the board room. Forty-eight! She couldn’t believe how time had flown. Well, forty eight wasn’t that old she reminded herself. She still had a lot of living left to do.
Chapter 4
‡
Aliya let out an exasperated breath. It seemed like every time she turned around Jonathan showed up. And each and every single time it brought back that night of passion they shared. The butterflies in her stomach took wing, and she knew the attraction she felt for him when he was near was something she needed to suppress. Now more than ever, but it was getting harder and harder to resist.
It was annoying as hell that she couldn’t seem to go through a single day and not find him watching her. He showed up at her practices. He’d been to three performances in the last week and a half. She’d even found him outside her dressing room talking to one of the other dancers when she’d left last night. But he hadn’t approached her or tried to persuade her into a repeat performance. That was something at least, she told herself while she pushed a lock of hair out of her face. No, he hadn’t even waved or nodded in her direction when she’d passed him last night in the hallway. He’d been talking with Sharla. The slut. Well, that’s what everybody called her behind her back. She had quite the reputation, and as hard as Aliya tried to ignore it, she felt just a twinge of jealousy that Jonathan had moved on so quickly. And to such an easy outlet too.
She finished demonstrating the move she wanted the dancers to perform. And at their nods, she stopped and watched them try it a few times. Jonathan. He was never far from her thoughts. But since she’
d explained things, that she had no time for a relationship or even casual dating, he had did not broach the subject again and didn’t try to engage her. At all. Other than showing up wherever she was, that was it. It was like he was trying to bait her or something. She turned to pick up her notepad to see the next move the troupe needed to learn. She nearly dropped her notepad when she saw him. And this time he wasn’t alone.
He was approaching the stage, walking down the aisle of the auditorium, this time giving the tribal council a tour of the facilities. She glanced up gazing at him from under her long dark lashes as she stopped to retie one of her laces. Practice was nearly over, and it was just she and their three male lead dancers on stage. She looked at them, and then back towards Jonathan. Her dancers were all attractive in their own way, but him! Oh God, there was no comparison. The man was drop dead sex on a stick that could not be denied. In a suit, he looked the part of the executive. The professional businessman. But underneath! She groaned inwardly. Damn that thought for entering her mind. But it was there. That image of him. His abs were incredible, his shoulders and arms works of chiseled art. She felt the heat in her loins and her muscles in her pussy clenched of their own volition. God, he was going to be harder and harder to resist.
She’d foolishly thought one night of passion would take off the edge, quench her thirst so to speak, but all it had done was to whet her appetite. She wanted more.
Again groaning, she stood and began to stretch. She pulled one knee up and held it, then did the other. She could feel Jonathan’s eyes on her and turned so she wasn’t facing him. Her nipples puckered and she felt exposed in the top she’d worn for practice. He’d been pointing out some of the features of the room when she turned. For a moment their eyes locked, and the intensity in his dark chocolate brown eyes smoldered.
She didn’t know how much longer she could take this tension. It was a good thing she wasn’t planning on working at the casino for very long. She’d signed just a six month contract. Another five months, she hoped would be all it would take for her to finish up her degree and get the paperwork in order to open her own studio.
She heard Jonathan’s voice getting stronger. He was getting closer. The tenor of his deep voice sent shivers down her spine. It would be so easy to succumb to him. Give in again. Just one more time. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t go down that road again. Jonathan Sassacus reminded her too much of another man. A man who had stolen her heart, and caused her to do the unthinkable. Getting involved with someone whose work consumed them had nearly ripped out her soul. Yes, a lot of that had been her immaturity back then and her own fault, but her protective instincts for self preservation wouldn’t allow her to fall for another alpha. And Jonathan was most definitely that.
Again, an image of the man naked, cock throbbing as he entered her had her pussy clenching. Five more months, she repeated. Five more. Excruciatingly long months.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the man himself. Her heart jumped into her throat as she turned and pasted a smile onto her face.
“Yes, Mr. Sassacus?” she replied after her name came rolling off of his lips. Her imagination had a hold of her. She’d imagined him saying her name as he thrust himself inside of her. His ‘Oh, Aliya,’ had become so much more.
“Aliya, I’d like you to meet Peter Sebastian and Myrtle Croatan, both tribal council members.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” Aliya’s greeting was genuine. Meeting the council members was fortuitous. She would need their help and approval if she were to make her dreams of her own studio on tribal land come to fruition. She began to cross the stage and quickly made her way down the steps on the left where the council members were gathered. “Mr. Sebastian, Mrs. Croatan.” She shook each council members hand as she greeted them.
Jonathan noticed right away the way Peter gazed appreciatively at Aliya clad in spandex shorts and a tight form fitting t-shirt. He had the urge to punch the man in the jaw. Focusing on Aliya instead of Peter’s reaction, he also noticed her warm brown eyes crinkle at the corners. It bothered him how friendly she was being. Peter was closer to his mother’s age. True, he was only forty-five, but she wouldn’t see something in a man who must be close to fifteen years her senior. He gave Peter another look. He had dark black hair kept longer than was the norm in the back, but it was only slightly tinged with grey. He was mostly fit too, with just a tad of a gut beginning to form around the middle.
He looked between them as he explained the purpose of his tour to Aliya wanting to see if the interest Peter was expressing was returned in any way. “The councilman are here to see the theatre while I explain the differences there will be in the new theatre. I’m trying to help them visualize it.”
Peter’s perusal continued. The man was practically eye-fucking her. Jonathan felt his blood begin to boil.
“It will be great. We have a packed house every night. I’m sure we will easily be able to fill the seats in the new theatre.” Her tone was enthusiastic. Bubbly almost.
Mrs. Croatan, not only a council woman, but one of the village elders, nodded appreciatively. “I can see why. I saw your show last week. I love the changes you have made to the routines, including more elements of our traditional ways.”
Aliya beamed and decided to jump in. This was great news. “Oh, I’m so glad you think so. For a long time, I’ve wanted to come home and teach our younger generation our songs and dances.”
“Really?” Mrs. Croatan seemed pleased and interested. Her position on the council was very clear. She’d always been a traditionalist. Anything that supported helping to maintain the Eastern Pequots cultural identity was surely a cause she was bound to support.
“Yes, in fact, I’ve nearly finished with my business degree, and I hope to meet with the council soon, to ask for permission to open up a studio on the reservation.”
Peter rubbed his stubbly jaw bringing the focus to him as he cleared his throat. “Space is tight right now. Funding for construction, won’t be . . .” Peter started.
“I’m thinking about the empty bingo hall on Rapp St.” Jonathan was lost. What had been about the casino’s newest construction projects turned into something else he hadn’t been prepared for and had no knowledge of in the least. He had no idea Aliya was thinking about opening a dance studio, let alone that she was finishing up her business degree. He needed to control the situation.
“I’d love the chance to meet with the council to discuss it. I’ve been putting a proposal together.” Aliya looked at both the council members hoping she wasn’t surprising them and being too forthcoming with her ideas.
Peter intervened before Jonathan could get in a word. “That space is kind of small for a studio. But, we would love to hear more about it.” He glanced at Myrtle on his right and she was in full agreement. “We can’t make any promises, but why don’t you head down to the tribal council and make an appointment.”
“I’ll do that. Thank you so much,” Aliya gushed. She had been planning on doing that when her degree was finished, but space on the reserve was limited. She already knew there was talk about turning the old hall into a clinic or youth center for the children. She might as well give it a try now. It could be years before another space became available.
“How perfect.” Jonathan tried to mask the sneer that he normally would have made under these circumstances. Instead he turned from the gushing Aliya giving her his back and effectively cutting her off. She was practically fawning all over the middle aged councilman. But now he knew her motives, and that helped him to put her into perspective. He knew why she didn’t have time now.
Aliya shot daggers into Jonathan’s back. His tone told her he was perturbed with her. And if her eyes weren’t deceiving her, she would swear he appeared somewhat jealous of Council member Sebastian. His tone was definitely one of anger, but his face quickly masked his feelings. A sexy smile soon took its place as he turned his attention to Myrtle.
Aliya couldn’t blame Jonathan for being angry. When
she was hired she signed a contract. She hadn’t let them know in the interview process that she only planned to stay that long. For her it had always been a temporary gig. But that was her business. Yes, she planned to fulfill her obligation to the casino, but six months, maybe six more and that was it. She was nearly thirty, and could not dance here forever. He had to realize that. Dancer’s careers lasted only so long. She wanted to open her own studio. She had been saving for the last four years to do just that. She’d worked in Vegas nearly a decade, trying to escape her past, and after five years knew where she belonged. Home. Even her parents had moved back to the reservation after she’d given up her schooling in New York at nineteen because she had fallen in love.
She shook those negative thoughts away. That was another time. Another place. Something she did not like to dwell on for long. The regrets there ran deep.
“I must say, we are glad you and your family have returned to Lantern Hill, Aliya.” Peter was still gushing over her, and Jonathan’s stomach rolled.
She stepped out from behind Jonathan. “Thank you. And I’m glad to be back. I want to give back to my community. Teach the younger generation about our culture through song and dance. Give them a healthy alternative to other recreational activities on the reserve.” Jonathan wanted to tell her to save her pitch for the council meeting, but Myrtle Croatan was nodding vigorously.
“Those are great aspirations,” Jonathan purred, taking Myrtle’s elbow. Ignoring Aliya now, he continued, “Let’s move along. I still have a great deal I want to show you before I take you into the construction area.”
Myrtle nodded at Aliya once over her shoulder, her brown eyes sparkling, as Jonathan escorted them back the way they came. He couldn’t get out of there quick enough.
Chances (Mystic Nights #1) Page 3