Read Online The Rebel by Marta Perry - Free Book Online Page A

resembled—big, paunchy, and hairy. He was an excellent cook who kept an immaculate kitchen, though no one would think it to look at him.
    She let the door swing closed behind her. “Do . . . do you have a minute, Mr. Tyler?”
    He gave her a grudging smile. “Yeah, I guess so. What’s up, Barbie? And don’t tell me you’re going to give me an excuse why that Ashlee didn’t make it for the breakfast shift, because I wouldn’t believe one of them.”
    â€œI won’t . . . I mean, I don’t know what happened to Ashlee. Maybe she’s sick.”
    Ashlee had been showing up late too often, with Barbie and Jean, the elderly Englisch server, trying to cover for her.
    Tyler’s snort told her he didn’t think much of Ashlee’s likely illness. “Don’t tell me you’re going to quit on me. You and Jean are the only reliable servers I have.”
    â€œNothing like that,” she said, and plunged into her request. “I just hoped that for the next few months, you might schedule me for times other than Friday and Saturday.”
    â€œAre you sure you wouldn’t like a three-course dinner thrown in?” He slammed a spatula on the cooktop. “I hired you because you claimed you’d be responsible, and now you want special treatment. Between you and Ashlee, pretty soon nobody will want to work.”
    Barbie refused to quake when he yelled. He didn’t seem to think any less of people who stood up to him—in fact, she thought he preferred it.
    â€œI’ve been very responsible,” she said, keeping her voice firm. “All I’m asking is a change in the shifts. Jean would rather work more on the weekends and have off during the week, because she watches her grandkids. And I’d rather work weekdays so I can help my cousin on weekends. Doesn’t that make sense?”
    He glared at her, brows lowering, for what seemed forever. Then he gave a curt nod. “Okay. You and Jean fix up the schedule between you. Just make sure all the shifts are covered.”
    Barbie let out a breath of relief. “Thank you. We won’t let you down.”
    â€œYou better not.” The scowl was back. “And if Miss Ashlee ever decides to show up, tell her I want to see her.”
    â€œJa—yes, I will.” She escaped, letting the door swing shut.
    Poor Ashlee. It sounded as if she was in for it.
    She rounded the corner from the kitchen and found herself face-to-face with Terry Gilliam, sitting on the end stool at the counter. He grinned at her, jerking his head toward the kitchen.
    â€œSounds like trouble in the kitchen. You okay, Barbie?”
    â€œI . . . yes, I’m fine. Mr. Tyler always sounds that way.” She could feel her cheeks growing warm. “I’m surprised to see you here.”
    His lips quirked. “I’ll bet I’m more surprised.” He nodded toward her dress. “Or is that a costume you wear for work?”
    â€œNo. No costume. I’m really Amish. I thought Ashlee might have told you.” Her cheeks must be bright red by this time.
    â€œSo what was the other night? An experiment?”
    Was he angry? She didn’t think so, but it was hard to tell since she didn’t really know him.
    â€œNo. At least, not exactly. Ashlee and I got to talking about the differences between Amish and Englisch, and, well, she sort of egged me on to see what a night out was like for her.”
    â€œYou must not have liked it. You didn’t stay long.” He actually sounded disappointed.
    â€œIt wasn’t that,” she said quickly. “I enjoyed meeting you. And your friends. But there was a girl there I knew who was obviously headed for trouble, and I thought I’d better take her home.”
    He tilted his head to the side, considering. “That’s all?”
    â€œYes, of course.” Had he been offended that she’d hurried