Taming the Wolf Read Online Free PDF Page A

“The organization needs a sizeable donation, Samara, or we’ll have to close shop. As it is, we’re just barely maintaining our operating expenses in an effort to keep most of our programs going. Soon that won’t be possible.”
“I know,” Samara said on a heavy sigh. “I’ll think of something, Melissa, don’t worry.”
“That is easier said than done. Between the fluctuating economy and increased competition for charitable donations, it’s harder than ever for small nonprofits like ours to get proper funding. And as you well know, the District’s limited resources are allocated to public sector organizations that fall under the Office of Community Outreach.” Melissa slumped back against the chair, her expression bleak. “I don’t know what else we can do, Samara. We’ve held fundraisers, sponsored everything from bake sales to book fairs, and coldcalled every business in our database. The contributions we’re receiving simply aren’t enough anymore.”
Before Samara could open her mouth, Melissa stabbed a warning finger at her. “And you can’t keep outsourcing your services in exchange for donations. Not only are you burning yourself out that way, but that’s not what you got your MBA for.”
“I don’t mind,” Samara countered. “I enjoy using my marketing background as often as possible. God knows my mother thinks I’m totally wasting the degree,” she added cynically.
“Is that what you two argued about in New York?”
“If only it were that simple.” Samara stared unseeingly into her coffee cup. When she spoke again, her voice was subdued. “My mother assumed that once the premiere was over, I would change my mind about talking to reporters. But with her, it’s never as simple as just doing interviews. With Asha Dubois, the more you give, the more she demands—until she completely usurps your will. Then you find yourself bending to her every whim, acting out a reality not of your own choosing.”
Melissa was silent, watching her with a mixture of sympathy and concern. “Don’t worry about the check,” she said gently. “We’ll get the funds somehow, and just chalk up this experience to a loss.”
“No.” Samara shook her head, her jaw set determinedly. “I kept my end of the bargain. It’s time for my mother to be held accountable for keeping hers. I’ll call her this afternoon during my lunch break.”
“Samara—”
“This is too important, Melissa. We both know that.”
With a sigh of resignation, Melissa stood and crossed to the door. She paused, her hand on the doorknob. “You know where to find me if you need to vent afterward.”
Samara’s smile was warm with gratitude. “I know,” she said quietly. “And thanks.”

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    “I knew it wouldn’t take you long to come to your senses,” Asha drawled, making no attempt to hide her smugness. “As notoriously stubborn as you are, even you can admit when you’re wrong.”
    On the other end of the phone, Samara fought to rein in her temper. “I didn’t call to apologize, Mother,” she said as calmly as possible. “I stand by my decision not to be interviewed after the premiere. I know very well your army of publicists was laying a trap for me, hoping the reporters would corner me into announcing my intention to join the House of Dubois. As if I’ve ever expressed any interest in becoming the mother-daughter design duo you so desperately want.”
    “Your refusal to take an active role in my company makes no sense whatsoever,” Asha said heatedly. “Look at the Asian culture where the children embrace their parents’ businesses as their own. Drycleaners, restaurants, convenience stores—you name it. Every member of the family works together to ensure the success of the business. But not my daughter. My daughter would rather wither away at some failing nonprofit organization than put her natural talents to use. Even if you never wanted to model, Samara, the least you could have done was head our marketing