Page 187 of Naughty Nelle

Hesitantly, I take the last piece of chocolate. It melts in my mouth. Euphoria! I want more.

Winnie must be a mind reader. She whips out three more bars and lays them on the bed. Like vultures, we dive in and devour them. With every bite, we moan with ecstasy. The chocolate must have magical powers.

“Come on, girlfriends,” grins Elz after licking the last bit of chocolate off her fingers. “Let’s not be late for dinner.”

The three of us band together at one table while Sasperilla sits by herself picking at her food at another. She makes a face at us. We ignore her.

“Isn’t Hook adorable?” asks Elz giddily.

“Not my type,” says Winnie, cutting into a hunk of cheese. “And besides, I’m married.”

He’s a total jerk, I say to myself, not wanting to offend Elz.

As if on cue, Mr. Total Jerk strides up to us. He straddles the empty chair next to mine.

“You don’t mind if I join you lovely ladies?” he asks, jabbing his hook into a slice of bread.

Elz flushes. “Is it okay with you girls?”

“Sure,” shrugs Winnie.

“No problem,” I say coolly. Liar! I don’t want him anywhere near me.

“Why are you here at Faraway?” Winnie asks him.

“I’m searching for my inner princess.”

The mockery in his voice makes me want to barf.

“That’s so beautiful,” coos Elz.

“I wish my husband would find his,” says Winnie.

I think she truly means it.

“What’s it like to be a pirate?” asks Elz with wide-eyed infatuation.

Hook recites the sordid details of his exploits as though he’s rehearsed them for days. Winnie and I roll our eyes. Elz, unlike us, hangs on to every word.

“Have you ever made someone walk the plank?” she asks in awe.

“Countless times,” boasts Hook.

“Wow!” exclaims Elz. The more dangerous he seems, the more attracted to him she becomes. Why can’t she see that this guy’s a creep?

A certified creep! To my utter disgust, the swashbuckler rubs his good hand up and down my thigh under the table. I jerk away. Who the hell does he think he is?

Winnie shoots me a perplexed look. Elz, immersed in Hook’s storytelling, doesn’t notice a thing.

“So, how did you lose your hand?” she asks.

A dark, sinister cloud falls over the swine. “Some faggot named Peter Pan cut if off and fed it to a crocodile.” His eyes become two steel blades. “Trust me, he’ll pay one day.”

The name Peter Pan sounds familiar to me. Where have I heard it before? I know. Shrink mentioned it during our first session. Something about a Peter Pan complex and her sister Tinkerbell.

I can’t help myself. “Do you know a Tinkerbell?”

Hook reddens with rage. “She’s the real reason I’m here! That two-timing imp! I should have never trusted her to lead me to Peter Pan.”

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