Highways & Hostages

by Jax Abbey

  “Sorry, Bert. I’ve had a lot on my mind these last couple of days.”

  Bert furtively glanced around the bar. He leaned over the table, his hard expression morphing into one of concern. He said softly, “Is everything okay? Ever since you got back from this emergency trip you’ve been so distracted that even the guys in the kitchen are noticing.”

  Stella toyed with the mummified fork and thought of what to say. She did kind of look up to Bert as a father figure, but he was still her boss, and she didn’t want to blast her business around the bar. Although, given enough time, Valerie would probably do it for her.

  Bert glanced at her left hand. “Oh…want to talk about it?” Though he’d asked, his face said he hoped she wouldn’t. Stella decided to let the poor guy off the hook. Besides, she would much rather he think she was brokenhearted and distraught about calling off the engagement than know the real deal.

  “It’s okay,” Stella said. “I’m all talked out.”

  Bert couldn’t keep the sigh of relief from escaping, and his face reddened. “I just thought I’d ask.” He straightened. “I don’t want you bringing the morale down around here,” he boomed, giving her a wink and a firm nod. “Stop lollygagging and get back to work.”

  Bert stormed away and Stella returned to work, doing her job correctly this time. She hummed to herself as she finished making her little bundles. She had acquired—Finn acquired things, where is he—a nice little heap of them when someone strode over to her booth. With nervous excitement—did I really manage to conjure the guy up?—Stella looked up at Derek. Her face fell. First his mother the night before, and now him? Didn’t these people realize she didn’t just come here for fun? That she actually had work to do? She glanced at the pile of silverware. Not meaningful work, but work all the same.

  “You looked like you were expecting someone else,” Derek said.

  “No—not expecting anyone,” Stella said in a rush. Why did she still feel so damn guilty?

  He gestured to the other side of the booth. “Can I sit?”

  “I’m really busy right now—” she was saying when Derek plopped down anyway. “But I guess I can take a tiny break. Did you know your mother stopped by here last night?”

  Derek chuckled and arched an eyebrow. He clasped his hands on the table in front of him. “My mother came here? Was she in a hazard suit?”

  Under the table, Stella rubbed the ring finger on her left hand. It was good to see him laugh. “Practically. I couldn’t really understand her through the gas mask so she had to take it off.”

  “What did she want?”

  Stella shrugged and looked down at the table. “She wanted me to rekindle things with you.”

  “Ah.”

  “That’s all you’re going to say? ‘Ah’?”

  “What do you want me to say? That I want to get back together, too? Because you already know I do.”

  Stella made the mistake of glancing up at his face. His expression was earnest, just like the night he’d asked her out and she’d finally relented and given him her number. But still, she couldn’t go along with the relationship just because Derek and Diane wanted her to. Stella’s thoughts must have been written on her face because Derek quickly shook his head and gave her a weak smile.

  “I didn’t really stop by to try and convince you of my undying love, but I did want to see if you would let me take you to dinner sometime. When you’re ready, I guess.”

  Oh, great, he wasn’t here to profess his undying love, but he was here to ask her on a date. Stella felt a sense of déjà vu—this had all happened before and run its course, leading them to this day. If she accepted she’d be sucked in, and the whole cycle would start all over again.

  “How about this—I won’t say no, but I’ll get back to you? I’ve still got your number and I know where you live if I need to find you.”

  Derek raised his hands in surrender. “You know what? I’ll take it.” He stood and wiped his palms down his pants to iron out the creases. He was definitely his mother’s son. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  Stella gave him a tight-lipped smile and a small wave. Derek stood a moment longer, and just as she was about to break the awkward, tense silence that was building, he walked away. As soon as he was out the door, Valerie was taking his seat.

  “Ooo, still warm!” she exclaimed, bouncing up and down. “First Dragon Mama comes in, and now the man himself. Details, details, give me details. I need to know everything.”

  Stella wrinkled her nose. “I’m starting to think you’re some kind of succubus, but instead of sexual activity you feed off drama.”

  Valerie tilted her head as she considered it. Finally she nodded. “I’m good with that, although I’d argue I’m the regular kind, too. Now spill!”

  Stella sighed and rolled her eyes. “He asked me to have dinner with him. Like when he first asked me out.”

  “And you said?”

  “I told him I would get back to him.”

  “Good girl! You only just joined the Single Girls Club again. You are young! You are wild! You are free! You can’t go back!” Valerie punctuated each phrase by jabbing a finger in the air.

  Stella stared at her. “Are you on something?”

  Valerie pouted and fluttered her lashes, pretending to be hurt. “No, I’m just excited to see the old Stella making a comeback! We’re gonna have so much fun. What are you doing tonight?”

  “Phoebe and I are going to the movies, and then I’m going to catalogue my recipes. I’ve got stuff jotted on napkins, scribbled in random notebooks and on index cards. I want to organize it all and start cooking again.”

  “Oh my God, you sound like an old lady. Derek seriously did a number on you.”

  “Say whatever you want, Val, but this is the first time I’ve felt inspired in years,” Stella said. “Don’t worry, we’ll plan a girls’ night soon.”

  Valerie stood and put her hands on her hips. She extended her pinkie finger. “Pinkie swear?”

  “Are you kidding me? I haven’t pinkie sworn since I was in middle school. Do you want us to prick our fingers and become ‘blood sisters’ too?”

  Valerie didn’t say anything, but waved her pinkie at Stella.

  Stella sighed dramatically. “I just want you to know I feel absolutely ridiculous,” she said before clasping pinkies with her friend. “Pinkie swear.”

  FINN, 3:04 P.M.

  Finn stretched out in the backseat of the taxi that had picked him up not far from the church parking lot where he’d destroyed the wire and transmitter. He knew he was going to get in trouble for it, but that was the last thing on his mind right now. He wanted to see Stella. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and tell her she was right; that this job, this life, and these people—none of it was for him.

  But what if she wasn’t at the bar? Should he go to her trailer? And now that they were back in Las Vegas and Stella was free to go about her daily life, how would she react to seeing him? Would she want to see him? Or was she going to pretend nothing had happened—the trip, the attraction between them, the kiss?

  Damn, Finn thought, that kiss. There was only one way to find out.

  The taxi pulled up to the Leaky Stein. Finn paid the driver and got out of the car. Somehow he had to get the Roadster from von Rothschild’s, but he’d worry about that later.

  Finn squared his shoulders and stepped into the bar, glancing around casually. There was no need for him to worry: Stella’s red hair caught his eye as she leaned over and chatted with a table of middle-aged ladies. As if sensing Finn’s presence, she looked toward the entrance and locked widened eyes with him. Face flushed, he gave a sheepish, halfhearted wave.

  “Hey, Blondie! Haven’t seen you around here in ages.” The bartender who always worked when Stella did called to Finn from behind the counter. She propped her chin in her hands and leaned forward with a wicked gleam in her eye. “Where are your buds? Aren’t you all joined at the hip?”

  “They’re busy
,” he mumbled. Normally women didn’t make Finn uncomfortable, but he got the feeling this one wanted to devour him and make a trophy out of his bones.

  She patted the counter. “Have a seat and I’ll take care of you.” She winked.

  “Uh, it’s okay…I just stopped by for a second to see Stella.”

  The bartender raised an eyebrow, but before she could say anything, Stella practically skipped across the restaurant and stopped in front of Finn. She glanced at the bartender, “Tell Bert I’m taking a break.”

  “But—”

  “Please, Val? I owe you. Thanks!” Stella grabbed Finn’s hand, pulled him through the door, and led him around the side of the building.

  They stopped on the corner of the sidewalk, looking at one another. The sun was high in the sky, and again, Stella was encased in a rosy glow like that day at the fun park. Only now, she was standing before Finn in a sexy little outfit and she wasn’t angry with him. And the last time they’d been alone, she’d kissed him.

  Finn looped his hands around Stella’s waist and pulled her forward. He expected some kind of resistance or hesitance, like all the times he’d tried to make a move before, but instead she melted into his arms. He dipped his head and kissed her. After a few seconds, Stella pulled away, blushing.

  “Hi,” she said softly.

  “Hi,” Finn replied.

  “I shouldn’t have done that—we shouldn’t have done that,” she said firmly.

  “Why the hell not?” he asked. “You kissed me in San Antonio.”

  “I just broke things off with Derek after being with him for almost two years—I need some time to myself. And it’s weird now… Before, we were in a crazy situation and I think it all went to my head.”

  Something tightened in Finn’s chest. “So I was just convenient? Got it.”

  He put his hands in his pockets and looked away. He couldn’t take Stella standing there acting like the chemistry between the two of them didn’t matter…like he didn’t matter. Not after that showdown with Billy, and the episode in Claudia’s car. But at least Finn’s question had been answered. no, there was nothing worth staying here for.

  “Finn, that’s not what I meant—”

  “No? That’s exactly what you said.” He fumbled in his back pocket and pulled out his wallet.

  Stella groaned. “Do not get all sensitive on me. You’re supposed to be the hard-ass who’s always got a comeback for something—Mr. Tough Guy.”

  Finn took a folded check out of his wallet and gave it to her. “Here’s your share.”

  Stella bit her lip and looked at the slip of paper fluttering in his hand before accepting it. “Thanks.”

  Finn returned his wallet to his pocket and reached in the back of his waistband. Stella’s eyes grew bigger and she took a step back. He rolled his eyes, removed the small, fat envelope that had taken the place of his gun, and held it out to Stella. She looked at him, brows furrowed.

  “These are some of my Gram’s favorite recipes. A lot of them have been passed through the family from generation to generation. There are a lot of Irish and Italian dishes in there. I thought you might want to check them out and see if there’s anything good you could use.” Finn refused to meet her eyes.

  Stella took the envelope and held it almost reverently. “Finn—”

  “I’ve gotta get going. My number’s on the envelope. You know, just in case you ever get into trouble or something.” Finn returned his hands to his pockets. “But I’m sure you won’t need it.”

  “This is too much—”

  “And yet I’m doing it. Surprise! The Tin Man has a heart.” He started to back away.

  “Don’t leave like this. Let’s talk!” Stella called behind him.

  For the second time that day, Finn walked away from a yelling woman. But now he was sure there was nothing to keep him in Vegas. It was time to pack his bags and figure out his next move.

  STELLA, 8:14 P.M.

  “Dammit! Too much salt.” Stella chucked her tasting spoon across the kitchen. “First there wasn’t enough, so I put a little more. Still not enough, so I put a little more. NOW THERE’S TOO MUCH.”

  “Are you on your period?” Phoebe called from her position sprawled across the couch.

  Stella growled in response before picking up the saucepan and emptying it into the sink.

  “Guess we’re having pizza for dinner,” Phoebe said.

  “Not now, Phoebe.”

  Stella wiped her hands on her dishtowel, grabbed her phone from the counter, and stalked to her bedroom. She slammed the door and belly-flopped onto her bed before dialing her mother’s phone number. It was a little after five a.m. in Italy, so Lisa was either just getting home after a night out or setting up her pottery wheel for the day. Stella had once asked her mother when she slept. Lisa replied that she didn’t; she’d have more than enough time to sleep when she was dead.

  “Buongiorno, Stella! Come stai? Oh, never mind, I know there’s something bothering you; you never call unless something’s bothering you.”

  This woman! Stella set the phone on speaker and laid it on the bed in front of her, then rubbed her temples. “Mom, that’s a total lie. I don’t only call to whine or complain…that just tends to be what happens a lot of the time.”

  Lisa made a noncommittal noise. “So everything’s fine?”

  Stella paused, ready to lie just to prove her mother wrong, but she was about to burst. “No, everything is not fine! Since I last talked to you, Phoebe got kidnapped, this guy held me at gunpoint, we drove across the country, I found out Derek works for the FBI, I broke off my engagement, and now I think I’m having a quarter-life crisis.”

  “Your car actually made it out of Las Vegas?”

  “THAT SHOULD BE THE LEAST OF YOUR WORRIES. Didn’t you hear anything I just said?”

  “Well, to be honest, it sounds like something out of a movie. Are you sure you’re not being a bit melodramatic?” Lisa sounded preoccupied.

  Stella shook her head. At this point, she’d probably be better off talking to Derek’s mother. “Forget it, Mom. Have a good day.”

  “Stella, wait.” There were muffled voices on the other end of the line. “Are you and Phoebe okay?” Lisa’s concern seemed genuine.

  “We’re fine…now. But it’s been a stressful few days. It actually seems to have brought us closer together in some weird way.”

  “Well, that’s nice, but what about the kidnapper? And the person who held you at gunpoint? What happened to them?”

  “It’s a long story, Mom.”

  “Oh, so you call and tell me these bad things have happened to you, but when I ask follow-up questions all I get is, ‘It’s a long story, Mom.’”

  Stella sighed and willed her eyes not to roll. She needed someone to talk to, and Valerie just wouldn’t cut it. There was no way she was calling Derek. And Finn…Finn was out of the question. Beggars couldn’t be choosers.

  “That’s not why I’m calling. That’s background information. The guy I went to Texas with—I think I have feelings for him.”

  “Wait—is this the same person who kidnapped Phoebe or held you at gunpoint? I’m so confused.” Lisa paused and took a deep breath. “Stella…do you have Stockholm Syndrome?” she asked in a low voice.

  This was not helping at all. In fact, now Stella felt like strangling her mother. “Mom, listen to me. This guy, Finn, he’s kind of an ass, but he gave me his grandmother’s recipe cards. When we joke around, my heart pounds in my chest like I’m a dorky wallflower at the school dance, and the most popular boy in school is walking straight toward me.”

  “Recipe cards? Wallflowers? Stella…I’m not sure we’re having the same conversation. Did you cheat on Derek with this…Finn, and that’s why the two of you broke up?”

  Hmm, there had been some almost cheating, but no actual cheating, so it didn’t count. She still felt guilty about it, though. “No. We broke up because I realized Derek’s not really what I need to be happy. Derek can
’t make me happy, only I can do that, and the only way that’s going to happen is if I pursue my passions. Oh, and he lied to me.”

  “FINALLY. After all these years of trying to teach you that, you figure it out. And this new guy, Finn, he helped you figure it out?”

  “Yeah. I think I knew it all along in the back of my mind, but it wasn’t until these last few days that it became really obvious.”

  “It sounds like Finn might be good for you. How long have you known him?”

  “Erm…a while.” Technically Stella had known him for several months since he frequented the bar so much…she just hadn’t really gotten to know him until a few days ago.

  Lisa made a noise that told Stella she didn’t believe her one bit, but let it slide. “And what else have I always said besides ‘follow your dreams’?”

  “Don’t get pregnant before the age of thirty?”

  Lisa sighed. “I’ve always told you to follow your heart. You think too much, and you overanalyze and nitpick everything. How do you feel around this man?”

  “I don’t know; that’s why I’m calling you! Can’t you give me some better advice than that? We’re not in a freakin’ Disney movie.”

  “Well, do you know how he feels about you? You said he gave you his grandmother’s recipes. That sounds pretty serious.”

  Stella twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “Tell me what to do.”

  “No way. I’m not going to tell you something, have you do it, and then it blows up in your face and you call me in a week, angry.”

  “You’re no help!”

  “Sorry, sweetie, but you’ve got to figure this one out on your own.”

  “Like I’ve been doing since I was eighteen,” Stella muttered.

  “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. Have a good night, hon. Love you.” Her mom waited patiently on the other end of the line.

  “Ugh, love you too.” Stella hung up and rolled over on her back.