It Takes a Rebel Read Online Free PDF Page A

of the chain, studying the intricate design she had memorized long ago.
    The lamp had been a moving-in gift from her mother when Alex had first bought the spacious loft condo. She wasn't sure
    which one of them was more excited with the find, but then her mother had passed away suddenly, before they'd had a chance
    to decorate the unique space together. Alex knew it sounded corny, but when she sat under the lamp, she felt as if her mother's
    spirit glowed all around her. She sipped from her glass, and idly fingered the pages of the magazine, subconsciously absorbing
    the latest styles, colors and accessories. The store carried that line of coats … that line of separates … that line of belts.
    Jack Stillman … Jack Stillman. Alex laid her head back and frowned at the antique tin ceiling she'd painted a luminous
    pewter. Why did his name tickle the back of her memory? Perhaps it was just one of those names…
    A frenzied knock on her door interrupted her thoughts. She knew who it was even before she pushed herself to her feet and
    padded across the white wood floor, but she checked the peephole just in case. Lana Martina, friend, fool, and neighbor,
    peered back at her, her arched white eyebrows high and promising.
    Alex's spirits lifted instantly—Lana was a full-fledged, flat-out, certified nut who just happened to have taken a liking to
    quiet, scholarly Alex while they were in high school. Within the halls of their private Catholic school, Lana was a walking
    scandal, her pleated skirt always a little too short, her polished nails always a little too long. But her incredible intellect had
    kept the nuns at bay. In fact, Alex had met her on the debate team, and while the girls couldn't have come from more different
    backgrounds, they had formed a lasting friendship.
    Alex swung open the door, smiling when she saw Lana held two pint-sized cartons of ready-to-spread cake frosting. "Mocha
    cocoa with artificial flavoring?" her friend asked, reading from the labels. "Or fantasy fudge with lots of nasty preservatives?"
    "Fantasy fudge," Alex said, standing aside to allow Lana in. Her friend was as slim as a mannequin, but her personality
    needed as much room as possible.
    "I brought utensils," Lana said, holding up two silver dessert spoons. "It's such a pain to get chocolate out from under your
    fingernails."
    Alex took the proffered spoon and carton of icing, then followed Lana to the sitting area. Having performed this ritual
    countless times, they assumed their respective corners of the comfy red couch, Alex's feet curled beneath her, Lana sitting
    cross-legged.
    "Nice silver," Alex observed, studying the intricate pattern on the end of the heavy spoon.
    "It belongs to Vile Vicki." Lana ripped the foil covering off the top of her carton.
    "You stole her silver?"
    "Borrowed," Lana corrected, dipping in her spoon and shoveling in a mound of chocolate big enough to choke two men.
    "She's such a witch," she said thickly.
    Alex smiled, then spooned in a less impressive amount of the creamy fudge icing, allowing the sweet, chocolaty flavor to
    melt over her tongue before she responded. "She can't be that bad."
    "You don't live with her," Lana insisted. "The woman is simply the most self-absorbed, tedious, annoying female I've ever
    met."
    "There's Gloria the Gold Digger," Alex said, pointing her spoon.
    "At least she was smart enough to marry your father."
    "True," Alex conceded with a sigh. Hopes that she and her father would become closer after her mother died had been
    dashed by Gloria Bickum Georgeson Abrams. The woman had brought a disposable pan of the most hideous macaroni salad to
    their home after her mother's funeral, and had been underfoot ever since.
    "I swear, Alex, I'm going to kill her."
    "Gloria?"
    "No, Vicki. Do you know what she did?"
    "I can't guess."
    "Guess."
    "I can't."
    "Sure you can."
    Alex sighed. "Borrowed your suede coat again?"
    "She ruined it. No, worse."
    "Forgot to pay a bill?"
    "I had to flash