Highways & Hostages

by Jax Abbey

  Finn shook his head. “Stella, did you hear her? Between your tips from waitressing, my tips, and me winning that contest, we’ll be set for the rest of the trip. It makes the most sense. It’ll be okay. Let’s go inside before Tanya takes back her offer.”

  Stella trudged after him with her head down. “This place gives me the heebie-jeebies,” she muttered to Finn’s back.

  “You can deal with it for a few hours,” Finn said. “Then you’ll never have to see this place ever again.” He opened the door and allowed Stella to enter before him. She stopped and looked back over her shoulder. “How did you come up with the name Jules?”

  Finn waggled his eyebrows. “My favorite character from my favorite movie, Pulp Fiction.”

  Stella walked toward Tanya, every step filled with dread. Before she disappeared behind the curtain she glanced at Finn again and mouthed the words “help me.”

  ..................

  An hour later, Stella balanced a tray full of glasses on one arm. She stood next to the DJ booth and glanced around the club. If she was honest, the strip club uniform wasn’t too far removed from her Leaky Stein outfit. She wore a red satin corset that made her non-existent chest look twice as large, and a black vinyl miniskirt that made her legs appear twice as long.

  “Looking for the man of your dreams? I’m right here, sweetheart,” purred Cliff, the weaselly-looking DJ. He stroked his pencil-thin mustache and licked his lips while eyeing Stella from head to toe.

  Stella wished she could dump the tray of drinks on his equipment, but Finn was depending on her. She stayed composed and gave the sketchy DJ a tight-lipped smile, just like she did when pervy customers bothered her at the bar.

  She moved away and deposited some drinks in front of their respective owners. Working here wasn’t so bad; maybe she would find a new job in a gay bar back home. She wouldn’t have to deal with nearly as many handsy clients…and at the very least, these men asked permission first.

  “Are you gentlemen having a good time tonight?” Cliff boomed over the microphone. Cheers went up all around the club. “Amateur Night at The Prickly Pear will get underway in just a few minutes!”

  Stella returned to the bar with her empty tray and leaned against the counter.

  “This is my favorite night of the week,” said Lacey, the lone female bartender. She was buxom, with long, silky chestnut hair. “I don’t have to worry about anyone hitting on me, I get tons of compliments about how good I look, and I get to watch gorgeous men take off their clothes. What more could I ask for?”

  “My friend is going up there tonight,” Stella said.

  “You a hag?” Lacey asked.

  Stella’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

  “You know, one of those women who surrounds herself with gay men, or has a gay best friend?” Lacey explained. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “Um, no, I’m not a hag. My friend is straight,” Stella declared.

  “Riiight,” Lacey drawled. “What is a straight man doing in a strip club on gay night?”

  “Making money,” Stella said.

  Lacey shrugged. “Good point.”

  Bored of the conversation, Stella pushed herself away from the bar and went to check on her customers.

  “Let’s get this Hot Body Contest started right!” the DJ crowed. “Our first contestant is…James Bond!”

  Stella had been surprised by Finn’s stage name, but at least he hadn’t chosen something as obvious as James Bond. With one eye on the stage, she slowly made her way back to the bar with new orders.

  “Need You Tonight” by INXS pumped through the speakers. “James Bond” pushed through a shiny silver curtain rigged up at the back of the stage. He was dressed the part in a sharp black suit and bowtie…but the poor guy didn’t have an ounce of rhythm. Stella cringed, the blood rushing to her face in secondhand embarrassment. Even so, the crowd was going wild and flinging dollars at the stage.

  Lacey leaned on the bar and watched James Bond perform with a palm covering one eye. “I’m so embarrassed for this poor guy,” she said.

  “I was too, until I saw all the dollar bills being thrown at him,” Stella replied. “That’s crazy.”

  “It’s not that much. I’ve seen some guys crack a thousand without placing in the top three.”

  Stella shook her head and watched James remove his pants, revealing a tiny speedo emblazoned with an American flag made of rhinestones.

  “God bless America,” Lacey breathed.

  “Enjoying the show, Red?” Tanya asked, appearing from nowhere, a frown on her face.

  Lacey quickly turned her back to the stage and started mixing drinks.

  “I was just having a breather while I waited for my drinks,” Stella said.

  “Uh huh,” Tanya said with a sneer. “I’m not paying you to breathe. Nor am I paying you to ogle my performers. I’m paying you to keep my clients happy and inebriated so they spend more money.” She spun on her heel and made her way across the club.

  “Don’t let Tanya get to you,” Lacey said as she mixed a drink. “She’s actually really protective of the girls who work the stage.”

  “I’m sure she is,” Stella muttered, thinking of how “protective” Tanya had been with Finn. She helped Lacey load the tray with drinks and made her rounds again.

  “Give James Bond a hand! Next up we have…” Cliff called over the speakers. Stella stopped and held her breath. “Mr. Darcy!”

  Stella let the breath out and stopped to chat with a table as “I’m Too Sexy” started to play. She wasn’t interested in gawking at Mr. Darcy with his pink feather boa and silver-sequined pants. When would Finn take the stage?

  Mr. Darcy’s set came and went. He didn’t receive nearly as many bills as James Bond.

  “Are you guys ready for the next contender? Welcome Jules to the stage!”

  Stella couldn’t rein in her grin as the first strains of The Clash’s “Rock the Casbah” pounded through the speakers. Finn appeared on the stage in a fringed vest with nothing beneath it, black leather pants, and a cowboy hat perched on his head.

  He looked totally at ease up there, which was funny, considering how against the idea he’d been at first. Derek would never be caught dead in such a situation.

  Ugh, she didn’t want to think about Derek right now, but it was hard. It was hard to imagine what life would be like without him when she got back to Vegas.

  Whatever, I’m not going to worry about it tonight.

  Stella turned her attention back to Finn. She was pretty sure he hadn’t packed leather pants for their journey, but it was hard to know. She smirked, wondering how on earth he was going to get them off since they looked like they were painted on.

  Finn faced the back of the stage and worked his butt in time to the music. Dollar bills started to rain down on the stage floor. He whipped around and eased off the fringed vest, making eye contact with several of the men standing at the front of the stage, and even more dollar bills flew into the air.

  Stella hurried back to the bar where Lacey was watching the stage with her mouth agape.

  “Do you see this guy?” Lacey asked.

  “That’s my friend! The one I was telling you about,” Stella exclaimed.

  “That’s the guy? Lucky you,” Lacey said.

  Stella shrugged. “We’re just friends.”

  Finn threw his hat into the crowd and started to unbutton his pants, revealing tight navy blue boxer briefs.

  “Girl, take him off the market, or I will!”

  Stella watched as Finn crawled across the stage sans pants, a dollar bill in his mouth. She recalled going to see Magic Mike with Valerie. Finn could have easily been cast in that movie. He jumped up and moonwalked back across the stage. The gay men and their female friends hooted and catcalled. Finn glanced over at the bar and caught Stella watching. She blushed furiously but maintained eye contact as Finn winked.

  As the song faded, Finn struck a pose, and a pair of panties flew at h
is face. He gazed at them, stunned for a moment, and then gave the crowd a cheeky grin before sweeping up the carpet of scattered bills that littered the stage. He bowed and blew the crowd a kiss before disappearing behind the silver curtain.

  Stella didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but it definitely wasn’t that. She fanned herself with a napkin. Had someone turned the temperature up? And that tiny flutter in her chest was puzzling…

  Four more men got up on the stage and stripped, but none fared nearly as well as Finn. At last it was time for the crowd to choose the night’s winner, which for Stella was already decided. Tanya stood onstage with a microphone, alongside Finn and the other contestants.

  “It’s that time of the night where we crown our Mr. Hot Body,” she announced to cheers. Our first place winner will get five hundred dollars. Second place receives two-fifty, and third place gets a hundred. You decide our winners! When I hold my hand over your favorite contestant’s head, make as much noise for them as you possibly can. Are we ready?”

  The crowd screamed and clapped. Tanya moved forward and raised a hand over James Bond’s head; he received a solid level of noise. Tanya moved on to Mr. Darcy, who got a few halfhearted claps. “I’m sorry, Mr. Darcy, you just didn’t get enough noise. Please exit the stage.” Head lowered, Mr. Darcy exited through the silver curtain.

  Stella stood in the back of the room, hands clasped together, praying fervently.

  “Give it up for Jules!” Tanya cried. The applause was enormous. Tanya took Finn’s arm and led him to the left side of the stage next to James Bond. Tanya went through the last four men until she had her final three.

  Finn and the two remaining contestants moved to the center of the stage. Tanya held her hand over each contestant’s head. When she got to Finn, he unbuttoned the leather pants, pushed them to his ankles, and stood with his arms raised triumphantly. The room exploded into noise.

  “Yes!” Stella squealed, pumping her arm hard in the air. She looked over at Lacey, who gave her a double thumbs-up.

  “Well, Jules, it appears you’ve earned our grand prize!” Tanya beamed as she produced a sash reading “Mr. Hot Body” and a plastic crown.

  Finn beamed and waved at the crowd. He shimmied his pants back up as Tanya announced the second and third place winners. Finn looked around the room until his eyes met Stella’s. He gave her a large smile and pointed to his crown.

  Stella wished the traitorous thoughts in her head would vanish, but they were becoming more insistent, particularly when Finn honored her with a smile or a wink. She shook her head. She needed to get her mind off of Finn’s abs and focus on getting through the rest of the evening.

  Dressed back in her jean shorts, plaid shirt, and pink Chucks, Stella pushed through the front doors of The Prickly Pear to see Finn quickly getting out of Josie.

  “Hi, Jules,” Stella said.

  “Miss Carstens.” He picked her up and twirled her in a circle. “We did it!”

  Stella blushed as he put her down. He stayed within her personal bubble, but she didn’t mind. She gazed at his lips, full and kissable. Oh God, where had that thought come from?

  “How long have you been out here waiting?” she blurted.

  “Not too long, but I had to take Josie for a couple spins around the block once some of the crowd realized who I was,” he replied, running a hand through his hair. “That was crazy in there, huh?”

  “Yeah, really crazy.” Get it together, girl.

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to find someplace to crash for the night.”

  “How much do we have?” Stella asked.

  “I’ve got about nine hundred dollars.”

  “I have a little over seventy-five,” Stella said sheepishly.

  Finn raised her chin and forced her to look at him. “Every dollar counts.”

  Then, to Stella’s disappointment, Finn dropped his hand. He opened the passenger door with a flourish. “Your chariot awaits, m’lady.”

  WEDNESDAY

  ..................

  FINN, 4:35 A.M.

  “I’m sure you’re happy we didn’t have to pretend to be husband and wife again,” Finn said, flopping onto the king-size bed. He felt like he was lying on a cloud. After leaving The Prickly Pear, he’d insisted on finding a ritzy hotel for the night. They’d both earned it.

  “I don’t know…” Stella dove onto the bed next to Finn with a blissful sigh. “There was champagne at the other hotel.”

  “Let’s look at the room service menu,” Finn said. When Stella opened her mouth to object, he quickly followed up with, “No arguing. We earned it.”

  Stella accepted the menu from his outstretched hand and perused it, pointing at a couple of items for them to share. Finn called the room service line and placed their order. When he hung up the phone he turned to Stella. “Go take a hot shower. I’ll wait for the bellhop.”

  “Thanks.” Stella rose with a groan and went into the bathroom.

  Finn took off his shirt and lay back on the bed. He was physically exhausted, but his brain was going five hundred miles per hour. He wondered where the hell Billy was, and how Phoebe was doing. He was going to strangle Billy when he got back to Vegas. He was also annoyed that he couldn’t stop thinking about the way Stella had grinned at him back at The Prickly Pear. She’d made it clear she wasn’t up for anything…but that was before she took her ring off.

  He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to wipe away the memory. He zoned out for a little bit, finally dozing off. Minutes later, Stella bounded out of the bathroom in one of the hotel’s extremely plush white bathrobes and flung herself onto the bed.

  “No food yet?” she asked.

  “Nope,” Finn replied, jerking himself into an upright position.

  “No worries. I’m just glad to be off my feet. I thought I was supposed to be on vacation,” Stella joked.

  Without thinking, Finn pulled Stella’s feet into his lap. Stella tried to pull them back, but gave in as he started massaging one of her heels. Finn wondered what Alex or Billy would say if they could see him now. He glanced at Stella’s face; she was so relaxed she was almost asleep. She looked peaceful and somehow even prettier.

  All Finn could think about was how velvety her skin felt where it touched his. How she smelled like strawberries. How she actually seemed to give a damn about his life. This time he couldn’t fight off thoughts of kissing her.

  A knock sounded at the door and Stella started awake. Finn guiltily dropped her feet and jumped up from the bed.

  “Could you get that?” he called over his shoulder as he made his way to the bathroom.

  He closed the door and turned on the shower before quickly undressing and hopping in. “Focus on the crown, Finn,” he instructed himself. “Forget about the girl. Make it back to Vegas and keep moving.” Finn scrubbed his skin until it was nearly raw, then got out of the shower. He put on the remaining hotel bathrobe and frowned at his reflection in the mirror over the sink.

  What the hell is going on with me?

  “Hurry up! The food’s gonna get cold!” Stella called.

  Finn exited the bathroom in a haze of steam to find Stella lounging on the armchair beside the bed.

  “I have a question for you,” Stella said, pouring red wine into two glasses. “Earlier today you said Derek wasn’t the right guy for me…”

  Finn didn’t like where this was heading.

  “What type of man do you think I should be with?”

  Finn accepted a glass from Stella and quickly knocked it back. He gestured for a refill. Stella shook her head no. “Not until you answer the question, buddy.”

  Finn swallowed and ran a hand through his damp hair. He looked anywhere but at her. “What I think doesn’t matter, Stella. My only relationship is with my work, remember?”

  Stella’s cheeks colored but she pressed on. “Seriously, Finn, I want to know.”

  Finn sighed and perched on the edge of the bed. “You should be with someone
who won’t put a tracking device on your car. Someone who appreciates your free spirit—the way you’re able to just go with the flow and embrace whatever comes next. Someone who makes you feel like…a princess.”

  Stella snorted and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Do I seem like the princess type to you? I know I resemble The Little Mermaid, but come on.”

  Finn thrust out his wine glass. Stella refilled it and remained close to him.

  If she doesn’t move away, I don’t know what I’ll be capable of.

  Finn scowled. “Don’t you have girlfriends who can answer questions like that for you? What do I look like—a therapist?”

  Stella’s face went slack. “You know what? You’re right. I do have friends I can ask. Sorry to bother you with my pathetic personal problems.” She downed the rest of her wine and began to eat from the room service tray in silence.

  Ugh, from one end of the spectrum to the other. He didn’t mean to make her upset, but it was the only way he knew how to respond when caught off guard.

  “Look, I’m sorry. I’m sorry your car broke down. I’m sorry for bringing you into this whole shitty mess. I’m sorry for being such a jerk. It just comes really easily,” Finn said. He tried to crack a smile.

  “I don’t think you’re a jerk all the time,” Stella said. “I just wish you could see that not everyone is out to get you. You’re wound up so tight all the time. Remember how it felt to let go in the karaoke bar? Didn’t that feel amazing?”

  Finn wasn’t a fan of acknowledging his feelings. He both liked and disliked the way Stella seemed to see inside his head more and more each day. She looked at him, waiting.

  “It did,” he agreed. “We should probably head to bed. According to the GPS we have about three hours left.”

  Finn got up and walked to his bag on the other side of the bed. With their backs to each other, he and Stella got ready to go to sleep. After locating and pulling on pair of boxer briefs under his robe, Finn was ready in seconds. He silently glanced at the other side of the room and caught a glimpse one of Stella’s bare, milky shoulders.