Taste of Desire. Kayla Perrin
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And just like that, Salina knew that Donald would be the type of man who would be ruthless in his vengeance. He did not like to be rejected, and it was clear he would make her suffer for it. The fact that he would even want to continue with the dinner and whatever else he had planned if she caved to his threats spoke volumes about his unsavory character.
“If that’s the way it has to be,” Salina said firmly, “then that’s the way it has to be. I’ve never slept with anyone to get anything, and I’ve never been afraid of hard work. If you can’t respect me for that, that’s fine. If my life is going to be a little more difficult in terms of achieving my goal because I won’t sleep with you, then so be it. But I am about to walk out that door right now, and if you touch me—I swear to God I will scream so loud everyone in this building will come running to see what’s wrong. And then I’ll press charges against you for sexual harassment. So don’t you dare think you can threaten me.”
Salina wasn’t sure where she got strength to stand up to Donald like that. Perhaps it was the fact that she knew that if she stayed in his apartment with him and tried to play nice, it would end badly for her. Playing nice with a man like Donald Martin, whose ego was clearly larger than the state of New York, would only lead to more problems. She had to be firm, had to get out of the apartment immediately.
Donald was clearly shocked by her words, and Salina could see the anger on his face, but he made no move to walk toward her as she stepped backward one foot at a time, her eyes watching him carefully. When she reached the living room she turned and hustled to the foyer, where she grabbed her coat and scarf from the coatrack. She didn’t look back as she scrambled out the door.
Salina left the apartment, running. She ran straight for the nearest exit sign instead of the elevator, and ran down sixteen flights on pure adrenaline.
She was aware of the odd looks she got from the concierge and then the doorman, but she didn’t care. She wanted to get as far away from this upscale New York address as possible.
She was humiliated. As she slowed to a fast walk instead of a jog, Salina asked herself if she had done something to let Donald think that she would be the type of woman who would sleep her way to the top.
Seeing the subway sign, she almost cried with relief. To her, the sign must have been like what a buoy would be to a person drowning in deep water.
She made her way down the stairs, contemplating the question she had asked herself. No, she decided. She had not portrayed herself as a woman who would barter sex for success. She was not going to take the blame for Donald’s bad behavior.
Perhaps she should have been firmer with him before. When he’d started with the little smiles and touches, maybe she should have made it clear to him that he was crossing the lines of professional conduct.
But it was too late now to change the past. All Salina could do was move forward.
And as she got onto the subway car and sank into a seat in the corner, all she could wonder was how something that had started with such promise could go so terribly wrong.
But what had happened in Donald’s penthouse suite proved the adage true: that if something seemed too good to be true, then it was.
Donald Martin may have been one of the best chefs in New York city, but the price to learn the ropes from him had proved too steep.
The opportunity of a lifetime, gone in an instant. God help her, how would Salina ever accomplish her dream now?
Chapter 2
Three weeks later Salina was still in the dumps over what had happened with Donald Martin. She had applied at many more restaurants, hoping that she would have some success in landing another apprenticeship position. She had anything but. She didn’t know if Donald had bad-mouthed her in any way, but suspected that he hadn’t. Indeed, if he was smart, he wouldn’t. He had to know that if he did anything to hinder her opportunities for employment, she could easily let the world know about his failed seduction plan. And given the fact that he knew Salina’s sister was a lawyer—one who specialized in civil litigation—the thought must have come to him that Salina would slap him with a lawsuit if he tried to mess with her possible future employment in any way.
No, Salina believed that prospects were grim because the economic downturn had affected many restaurants to the point where they weren’t taking on any new employees. What that meant for her was that she was going to have to go back to her original plan—go to culinary school in order to see her dream fulfilled. And after the experience she had with Donald, she valued the idea of taking the regular route to success, as opposed to the shortcut. That said, the regular route was going to take her years and thousands of dollars. Thousands of dollars for culinary school that she didn’t have.
She had two options. Either she could head back to Buffalo and once again work in day care, or she was going to have to find something else to do in the city. She was loving the vibe of New York and wanted to stay. But she needed to stand on her own two feet and not live off her sister.
There was another reason she didn’t want to head back to Buffalo. All her friends and family there had had such high hopes for her when she told them she was heading to New York to work as a chef. She didn’t want to go back to her hometown with her tail between her legs, as the saying went, because that would be admitting she had failed.
She was at home on Thursday evening looking through the classifieds and trying to see what other positions might be available when her sister came in the door and practically sang, “I have the perfect opportunity for you.”
“What kind of opportunity?” Salina asked.
“The kind that means cash,” Emma replied, smiling brightly. She wore her hair short, the style Halle Berry had made famous, with bangs falling over her forehead. It was a professional look, easy to maintain and suited Emma’s face very well.
Salina narrowed her eyes as she stared at her sister. “Ah, I get it. You want me to start pulling my weight around here,” she joked.
“You know you’re welcome to stay here as long as you want or need,” Emma told her. She approached the table where Salina was sitting, and placed her briefcase on it. “Seriously, though. I think I have the answer for your job woes. At least for a little while.”
Salina put down the paper she had been reading, feeling hopeful for the first time in three weeks. “You got me an interview for a job? What kind of job?” The answer came to her a moment later. “Oh, I know. The receptionist at your law firm finally quit, didn’t she?”
Salina wasn’t sure she wanted to do reception work, as it wasn’t the kind of job that would advance her particular career interest. But the truth was, she was at a point where she had to acknowledge that beggars couldn’t be choosers. She would do what she had to in order to accomplish her bigger goal.
And that goal was to fund her way through culinary school.
“No, not a receptionist.” Emma began to unbutton her coat. “It’s in a field you’ve worked in before—well, sort of—so I think it’s right up your alley.”
Salina narrowed her eyes at her sister. “I’m confused.”
“Of course you’re confused. How many job avenues have you followed?”
Emma smiled wryly, and Salina had to concede that her sister had a point. It was true that she had, in her short twenty-seven years, contemplated about four major career paths. She had become a lifeguard at seventeen, and thought for sure she would end up working in that field for a very long time. Not simply as a lifeguard, but in management at a recreation center. She enjoyed working with children, and especially enjoyed the summer programs where she had helped inner-city kids learn how to swim.
Her love of working with children had led her to her second career path: working in day care. She had done so for four years, hoping to one day have her own child-care company. However, she found that she got too attached to the little