Chances (Mystic Nights #1)(12)

Aliya closed her eyes briefly before she reached up to kiss him this time. It’s all she had to give, she thought. For always.





Chapter 5




?


Jonathan watched the troupe take a final bow as the curtain fell. Aliya’s performance tonight in the role of Makkitotosimew had been beyond stellar. This locally written rendition of The Day told the tale of the Mystic Massacre of 1637. In retribution for helping to hide those responsible for the deaths of two white men, the Pequots along the Mystic had been slaughtered in their sleep by local white Puritans. It was a sad tale, and the few who had remained scattered to the winds, and struggled to keep their nation, their people’s traditions and culture alive while living with other local or friendly tribes. Over 600 men, women, and children had burned in their lodges. More had run and were chased down and axed, shot, and butchered by Puritan hatchets.

This rendition of the story had been told through song and dance, and it never failed to move him. It represented the century’s long struggle his people had faced. His mother had told them the story often, and it had been told in school and at the cultural centers he’d attended as a child. But seeing Aliya in the role made it seem more real and poignant than ever before. It was truly their saddest story.

Despite the pang of loss he felt at his people’s history, he couldn’t help but feel hopeful too. His people had finally gotten recognition as a First Nation. His mother had worked hard to achieve that. And now the casino would help them to get on their feet economically. It was all coming together. The curtain rose once more and the troupe took another bow as the audience continued to applaud their appreciation.

As the crowd began to filter out, he tried to contain his excitement. Maybe it was knowing he would be seeing Aliya later that night, but he was practically breathless with anticipation. He hated having to meet her so late, but as she said they were both so busy. He was currently seated up front, wining and dining several of the tribal council members. His report for them this week was not going to go well. With his mother out of town on her yearly vacation, not only was it his job to keep them entertained and happy, but he needed to figure out why Simon’s numbers were not matching their projections from last quarter. So far Simon hadn’t been able to come up with anything close to what seemed to be missing.

Myrtle Croaton, beside him, was still cheering loudly, and he knew she had seen this show at least a half a dozen times. It had been her idea to attend the performance. She wanted to become better acquainted with Aliya; someone she felt could help translate their culture to the younger generation. Peter sat across from Jonathan, and he saw the man’s gleam in his eye once more as he watched Aliya take her bows before the curtain’s final fall.

Peter turned back towards the other people seated, barely glancing Jonathan’s way. “That woman, Aliya Chance.” He beamed and fanned himself letting out a low wolf whistle. Myrtle gave him a death stare that he ignored. Inside, Jonathan cringed but said nothing.

“Yes, she is very talented,” Myrtle added. “I’m glad she is back. She could do many things for our people.”

Peter nodded vigorously probably thinking about what he would like her to do for him.

As did Jason Paralta, another of the elder tribal members. Josephine Milea was silent however. She was the youngest and newest member of the board and tribal council.

“I never thought she would return,” was her only comment. Jonathan’s ears perked up. He remembered Aliya briefly from when she was on the reserve, but they had not traveled together in the same circles back then. Her parents had always kept a close reign on her, having had only the one child.

Peter was speaking and he listened in. “Yes, she left to attend some prestigious school in New York when she was fifteen, if I recall correctly. But then her parents returned without her four and a half years later. The rumor was she had left school and gotten engaged, but then broke it off a few months later.

Jonathan engaged Myrtle in conversation, pretending not to listen. He didn’t like hearing these things from someone besides Aliya. Their relationship wasn’t that far along yet. They had seen each other just twice in the last week and they had not progressed to the part where they shared their personal histories. He smiled wryly. In fact, they had done very little talking on both of those occasions. They had been quick and incredibly hot occasions. Once in her dressing room, and then again yesterday in his suite upstairs when she surprised him with a particularly amusing and arousing text message. His response had been to meet her in his suite. She knew the way.

“I heard she got knocked up, and, er. . . lost the baby I think, then she left the guy to pursue her dancing career in Vegas.” Peter’s tone darkened.

Jonathan turned to him sharply. “Quite the gossip, aren’t you?” he sneered. “You seem to have done a little digging on Miss Chance.”

Myrtle reached over to pat his hand, sensing the anger just below the surface. “All that is in the past. She is home, with her people. And that is a good thing for her, and for us. Her intentions are good. I like her. Her past is really none of our concern,” she added pointedly to both Peter and Jonathan.

He let out a breath taking the sage advice of the village elder and tribal councilwoman. Aliya’s past was her past. It didn’t matter what she had done then. His interest lie in her future.

Peter must have taken the hint for he was quick to change the subject. The auditorium was nearly empty now. “She is a talented dancer. I don’t know if she is capable of running a studio though, but I am more than willing to hear her out. Everyone deserves a second chance I guess.” Peter laughed at his double entendre while using Aliya’s last name.