Chances (Mystic Nights #1)(30)
His hand reached out to grab her shoulder. She tried not to wince. “Don’t rush into anything like that.” His voice was cajoling, but she heard the undercurrent of political speak ease. “Josephine just wants to be sure she is doing what is best for our people. She second guesses every proposal that comes before the board.” He laughed. “She takes her job way too seriously. I, on the other hand,” he touched his chest, “believe we should work to make our people’s dreams come true.” He gave her a measured look.
She pulled her shoulder out of his grasp, and took another step back. She wasn’t buying it anymore. And his next words confirmed her distrust. “Well, as I said, if you want that studio in that space, have dinner with me, at my place, and we will DISCUSS it further. I’m always available.”
Aliya had enough, shaking her head, she began to walk off. He didn’t even deserve a response though she gave him one. “No thank you, Peter. That’s not how I do business.” How much clearer could she be? She heard him laugh, but she didn’t turn around.
“I could make this easy for you,” he called after her.
Her stomach rolled. He was basically saying if she wanted his vote for the space, she would have to sleep with him. Such a pig. No way. Not happening. How had she not seen the man for what he was from the very beginning? She’d seen that kind of thing in Vegas plenty of times. She just hadn’t expected to see it here, with the tribal council no less.
Getting into her car, she realized she should have spoken to Myrtle or Jason. Peter Sebastian was the epitome of the sleaze ball politician. He spoke one way, but acted another. His incessant requests to go out with her had all been for one purpose and one purpose only. And he knew she was seeing Jonathan. She was done trying to court his vote. She wasn’t going to chase him down for his support or vote, especially now that she knew it most definitely came with strings attached. She would focus her efforts where it would count and not suffer the indignity of the likes of Peter anymore.
Feeling much better, Aliya headed home. She would use her afternoon to see what other facilities were nearby the reservation. One setback wasn’t going to derail her dreams.
Pulling out of the now nearly empty parking lot, she made the left turn onto Dale Avenue when a blur of activity caught her attention. A car just sped up and blocked Peter from pulling out. Stopped at a stop light, Aliya glanced back and saw Simon Wheeler jumping out of his car. He was talking animatedly, and Peter looked upset. His hands raked through his hair. Then Simon handed him a large yellow envelope. She saw Peter glance inside. He smiled broadly and then patted Simon on the back. But Simon still looked upset. He was talking with his hands. Putting them up in the universal sign for stop.
Just then a car horn behind her tooted, and she looked back. The light had changed to green and she was holding up traffic. She stepped on the gas wondering what the casino’s accountant was doing speaking with Peter. And the envelope thing had all been very suspicious. Ugh, she watched too many movies, and just because he was a sleaze bag, lecherous pig, didn’t mean he would was corrupt too. She pushed the thought out of her mind as she headed home. She was anxious to start looking for back up locations for her studio. And perhaps seeing Jonathan again after tonight’s performance might be a nice way to end her day.
*
Distracted by driving and her own thoughts, Aliya didn’t notice that both Simon and Peter had noticed her. After the car horn had sounded, both men looked up to see Aliya Chance looking their way with a perplexed expression on her face. She had a line of cars behind her. Peter slipped the large envelope inside of his jacket. “Simon, we might have a problem.”
Simon glanced at the woman speeding off down Dale. He recognized her from the casino. Shit! That woman was seeing Jonathan. “Was that a dancer from Mystic?” he asked, a cold dread enveloping him.
“Yes, it was,” Peter confirmed. “And, we need to keep our eye on that one.”
Simon nodded nervously. He pulled a handkerchief from his side pocket and mopped his brow. Even with the bitter cold, Simon was sweating and nervous. Time was running out, and he knew that it was just a matter of days before Jonathan Sassacus was on to their little operation, dancer or no dancer. “Time is running out, Peter,” he voiced his worries aloud.
“I don’t think so.” He felt confident his tracks were covered. Only Simon could expose him. And Simon wouldn’t be around for much longer. “We have time. One more week. Let’s wait it out.” Peter was determined to not only pull out millions from the casino, but he wanted to take down the entire Sassacus clan. He’d worked too long, and suffered too much at their hands to bail out now. He was in this until the bitter end, and was confident this time he would come out the winner.
And he loved a good gamble. Nodding at Simon, he got back into his car. There was still hope. A chance. And if not, he had a back up plan, time, and the millions to enjoy it.
Chapter 13
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The afternoon performance finished and Aliya stayed after the stage crew cleaned up and reset the stage for the evening. Instead of heading home she wanted to work a bit on her own. Sometimes she liked the solitude of a quiet stage. It helped her to visualize what the sequence of moves should look like. She was trying to perfect one of the dances she was choreographing for the new spring show. She had her notebook out and was taking notes after she performed each movement, combining them as she went along. She did not see Jonathan sitting in the audience quietly observing her.