"Lisa, I presume." He said as she walked up the steps an across the porch.
"Yes, thank you for opening your home to me. Am I right in assuming you are Michael Joyce?" Lisa asked as she extended her hand.
"So you have heard of me?" He laughed.
"Is there anyone on the planet who hasn't?" Lisa said.
"I think at the last check there was one old man in the Himalayas with no electricity who only came out of the mountains once a year an couldn't read that didn't know who I was. If I am not mistaken, you have had a little bit of celebrity yourself lately. Don't get all defensive, I don't believe half of what I read. According to those rags, I have slept with more women than there are in the world. Come in here and we can get you some warm dry clothes and see what we can arrange for the night. It looks like you may be stuck here. We are going to have an ice storm, and none of the garages want to take the chance on coming out." Michael helped her out of the coat and took her arm to show her where she could change.
"Thank you, maybe if I could use your phone I could get my family to get someone out here. I need to at least let them know I am safe. " Lisa told him.
"Yes, but first, I have some clothes in here for you, so please feel free to change then I will hand the phone over to you. There is also a hair dryer in there, so if you would like you can dry your hair. I also have some fresh coffee waiting, so don't be to long." Michael closed the door on the large bathroom.
Lisa saw the clothes lying on a stool along with the hair drier. How many times do you get to be in the home of one of the most famous rockers in the world. Lisa thought as she changed clothes and then dried her hair. She hadn't brought her makeup with her from her car, so she just washed what remained off her face and used a rubber band to tie up her hair. She looked at herself in the full length mirror.
She was a good looking woman, she did carry a little extra weight, but she was not fat. Her body was filled out, with a large chest and a full backside. Lisa had decided years ago to let her friends worry about who could lose the most weight and have the smallest size pants. She was going to be happy with being comfortable with herself. She had had some problems with being called fat, but she had decided that she didn't have to look like everyone else to be happy. As her mother loved to point out, Marilyn Monroe was a size 14, and there wasn't anyone calling her fat. She had long dark hair that was always styled perfectly when she was going out into the public eye where she could be photographed, but when she was spending an evening at home, she normally kept it in a ponytail or just brushed out. She liked to be at home where she could walk around with no make-up and just an old pair of jeans with a t-shirt, instead of having to be dressed just right. She missed the days of not having to worry about all that just because her parents had money.