Page 251 of Naughty Nelle

I fill Elz and Winnie in on everything I’ve had to put up with as Marcella’s personal assistant. “She’s a total nightmare!”

Elz, having met the skank, vouches for me. “With all you’re doing, that’s so mean of her not to invite you to the ball,” she singsongs.

I seriously want to shake her.

“Don’t worry about Calla’s birthday party,” says Winnie. “I’ll take care of everything. It’ll be a piece of cake.”

That’s a relief! At least, another thing on my To-Do List will get done. Thank goodness for best friends.

“Shrink promised I could go back to my castle once I complete this rotten gig,” I go on, “but I’m not going to survive Marcella.”

“Hang in there,” says Winnie. “Trust me, everything’s happening for a reason.”

Trust me,I can’t think of a single good reason to be slaving for Her Royal Skankiness. I’m supposed to be finding some meaning and light, but I don’t even have the time to find my way to the bathroom.

“I should poison the bitch!” I say, rage rising inside me.

Winnie and Elz shoot me a don’t-go-there look.

“I don’t understand what The Prince sees in her.”

“She’s blond, busty, and brazen,” says Winnie, the relationship guru.

And I, former Miss Fairest of All, am overworked, rundown, and as flat as an unbaked loaf of bread.

“What’s Gallant like?” asks Elz.

The mere mention of his name makes my stomach flutter and temperature rise. What’s wrong with me? It must be the beer. It has to be.

Elz’s attention suddenly turns to someone else.

Hook. He pushes through the crowd toward the bar. Elz’s bespectacled eyes sparkle.

“Yo, Ho, Ho,” Hook says to the bartender. “Give these fine ladies another round and throw in a bottle of rum for me.”

The swashbuckler chugs his rum and sets the bottle down hard. So much for Faraway’s cure.

“Whatch’ya been up to, babe?” Hook leans in close to me, pressing his thigh against mine. Something hard digs into me. I glance down and gasp. A massive ivory-handled sword is lodged inside his belt.

I take a gulp of beer and edge away. With a flick of his hook, the swine yanks me back to him. Elz frowns. Shit! I wish he’d leave me alone. Or that a one-eyed ogre would come up to me and start a conversation.

My rescue-me prayers are answered.

“Give everyone another one on me!”

All eyes turn toward a dashing, long-legged man who has burst through the front door with such force the room quiets. He’s dressed in formal military attire and wielding an intimidating sword. My heart drops to my stomach. It’s The Prince!

My pulse goes into overdrive. I can’t let him see me here of all places. I quickly hide my face behind my mug, but it’s too late. Recognition flickers in his eyes. Sliding his sword into his belt, he heads in my direction. I chug my entire mug of beer in one gulp. I feel sick. Very sick.

“Jane, what brings you here?” he asks, brushing up against me.

A giant lump forms in my throat. Swallowing hard, I ask him the same question.

“Just letting off a little steam.” He orders a beer and downs it. “I had another argument with my father; he does not understand me. I always stop by here after seeing him. It is quite refreshing to be with real people instead of a bunch of headstrong royals.”

“Introduce us to your friend,” insists Winnie.

My lips quiver. “This is Prince Gallant.”

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