The Karmic Redhead

Author's Note: This one is something of a slow build. It could have been Romance or Erotic Couplings I suppose but because one of the characters is a real porn actress, I submitted it here in Celebrities.

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Chapter 1 - The Karmic Disaster Area

I don't know how it happened. I don't know why it happened. Maybe the Happiness Fairy decided that after the week I had that I needed a boost. Maybe it was a little bit of karma balancing itself out across lives past and present. All I know as I sit here in my apartment late on a Friday night after the most incredible day I have ever had is that I am incredibly glad it did happen.

Okay, okay. I know you are asking yourself "What? What happened"? Let me back up a bit then and tell you about my week.

It sucked. Not the "Stubbed my toe on the couch leg, spilled coffee on myself while driving, check engine light on the car" kind of suck. No way. Up until Friday morning, I would have traded my left arm for any or all of those minor suck factors. I had a hurricane of suck, a storm of awful circumstances so bad that it should be memorialized in song and legend. Let me tell you my tale of woe as briefly as possible so that I can get to the incredible ending.

On Monday, the company that I worked for decided it was going to cut their losses and close down. No warning. No severance. The powers that be decided that the venture was not working out as well as they wanted, it was not returning enough on their investment and so poof, no more company. Must be nice to be able to take the tax write-off while the 25 employees take it in the neck. Fortunately, I stash money away as a squirrel does nuts so I was going to be okay for a while. Not a forever and I'd have to cut back some but I figured my emergency fund along with whatever unemployment I'd get could keep me going at near normal for six months. If I was austere, up to a year.

On Tuesday, Marie, my girlfriend of the last two years, decided that she was not really into this whole relationship thing anymore and was leaving me, leaving Miami, and moving to New York to become an actress or some damn thing like that.

On Thursday, well Thursday was not bad as far as Thursdays go. Except that I turned 40. Ugh.

By Friday I had filed for unemployment, gotten Marie out of the apartment and had started to reach out to business contacts to see if I could drum up some freelance work or better yet a job offer. Having done everything that I could do I decided to go have some fun. I was suddenly single and unemployed so I did what any person would do. I went to the Dog Park with my buddy Bismarck. Bismarck is my Belgian Malinois. He is four years old and a riot to be around. I bought him as a puppy from a breeder up near Tampa and we have been close to inseparable since I brought him home. He is awesome. He loves the outdoors. I usually take him running with me so the big galoot gets some exercise before I have to go to work for the day. His favorite thing though is the dog park. Probably because of all the other butts to sniff. What can I say? He is a dog. Anyhow, we made it to the dog park around 10 and I took him over to the off-leash area and took his favorite tennis ball out of my pocket.

We played fetch for about 10 minutes with me throwing the ball progressively further and into weirder spots, behind trees, into some scattered bushes, whatever would give Bismarck a bit of challenge. Then as if the karmic pendulum had reached the apex of its outward swing, I saw her. Near a small copse of trees was one of the most stunning women I had ever seen. Long red hair, freckles splashed across her face, slim figure but with what looked like a really nice rack, legs that seemed to go on for miles. Amazing. She was sitting on a blanket with some sort of small lap dog lying next to her. Now I like dogs, but I am not wild about what I call "Yip-Yips". You know the dogs I am talking about. Bismarck barks. He sounds like a dog. Yip-yips do not have a bark. They sound exactly like what I call them. They yip. Annoying. If you love those kinds of dogs, more power to you, just not my thing.

Anyhow, something in the back of my mind started to twitch. I felt like I had seen this girl somewhere but I could not place her.

What the hell I thought. Whoever she is, she is here and she is worth meeting. I whistled Bismarck over to me and hunched down in front of him. I know he is a smart dog but sometimes I think he understands everything I tell him be it dog commands or if I'm talking about the stock market. The look in his eyes just screams intelligence.

I held the ball up in front of his nose and looked into those dark brown eyes. "Catch. Stay" I told him. Then I threw the ball in the general direction of the redhead. Bismarck went bounding off after his ball and I silently prayed that he would do what I told him. The ball bounced once and then rolled into the copse, not far from where the girl sat. Bismarck disappeared into the trees and I lost sight of him.

When he did not come out, I called his name while I thought, "Good boy" to myself. Bismarck had gotten the idea. He was probably sniffing some hole in the ground or a new tree. I walked toward the copse of trees while I called him to me a couple more times. He still did not come out. "VERY good boy," I thought.

I got closer to the girl on the blanket and got a better look at her. She was even more attractive up close than she had been at a distance. She had sat up cross-legged and was reading a book. Her Yip-Yip was passed out next to her. I thought the tawny and white pile of fur was a Papillion but I was not sure. The girl was wearing a large floppy hat to keep the sun off her shoulders, big retro 70s tortoise sunglasses, a ribbed white tank top, cut-off jean shorts and a pair of red Chuck Taylors. I have to admit, the way she was sitting made the top of her tank gap open, and I did sneak a quick peek. Her skin was like cream and she did indeed have really nice tits from what I could see. There was a hint of pale green lace and then I lost any deeper view because of the angle. The back of my brain tickled again. I knew her from somewhere.

"Excuse me," I said politely, "Did my dog come through here? We were playing fetch and I think he took off this way. He's a Malinois, kind of like a German Shepard only smaller."

The girl looked up, half-startled. She must have been deep into whatever the book was. She cocked her head off to one side a bit and smiled. "I'm sorry. Wasn't really paying attention. Did you check in the trees?" She jerked a thumb over her shoulder at the copse.

"I was headed that way. Bismarck feels like he has to introduce himself to every tree and bush in the park. That's his name."

"So I imagined," the nameless girl replied.

"Thanks anyhow. By the way, my name is Josh."

"I'm Faye, nice to meet you."

"And you. Maybe I will see you around the park again. Let me see if I can go find Bismarck before he scares some squirrel to death." With that, I went into the trees to find my dog.

I found him a little ways into the copse of trees, sitting with the ball in his mouth and a goofy look on his face. I crouched down in front of him again and scratched him behind both ears. "You're a good boy. Bismarck is a good boy. I think somebody is getting bacon when we get home. Would you like that?"

Then it struck me. I knew who the leggy redhead was. It was Faye Reagan. I do not watch a ton of porn but I have a serious thing for gingers. Faye was the hottest redhead I had ever seen in porn and she was sitting not 15 yards away reading a book. I guess it was not surprising that I did not recognize her right away, as she was not made up for film, naked, or with somebody's dick in her mouth or pussy. She was just over there, having a perfectly normal morning while her Yip-Yip took a nap in the Florida sun. The thought of my favorite pornstar sitting right over there started to get me a bit stiff in my cargo shorts.

"Come on Bismarck let's go see if we can talk to the nice lady some more," I said, clucking my tongue for Bismarck to heel and follow.

I walked back to past the blanket where Faye sat, still reading. "Found him, terrorizing squirrels like I thought. Obedience school only does so much you know?"

Faye looked up from her book again. At the same time, her Yip-Yip woke up from its nap. It stretched, and yawned and then the scent of Bismarck hit its nose. Now Bismarck is a smart dog. He knows how to act around other dogs, the Yip-Yip evidently not so much. The Papillion pogoed over to the edge of the blanket and starting yipping and yelping at Bismarck. My dog just looked at the little yellow-brown and white ball of fury curiously.

Faye moved to her hands and knees (oh be still my heart) which gave me an incredible down-blouse view of her tits and reached out for her dog.

"Shush Poppy! Bismarck did not do anything to you. He's just sitting there," Faye said. "I'm so sorry. Poppy's cute but she's well, a bit of a bitch if you know what I mean."

"It's no problem Faye. Enjoy the rest of your morning. Bismarck and I have some errands to run. Hopefully we'll see you around the park again." I smiled and walked back towards my car, Bismarck at my heel.

Chapter 2 - The Bridge

I needed to get a couple of basic supplies before we went back to the apartment. The first stop was the bank where I withdrew some cash from the ATM for essentials. My first decision after the company closed was to move to cash only. If I am not running plastic, I won't be tempted by invisible money. Then we went to the pet store. I had to leash Bismarck but it was still another opportunity for him to get out and see different things and smell new smells. He had been extra helpful in me getting to meet Faye so I got him a couple of special dog cookies off the treat bar in addition to the bag of food I had been planning on buying.

Bismarck also saw Marco, a Great Dane that we knew from the dog park and his owner Kenny. We traded small talk while the dogs sniffed at each other for a bit. Kenny told me about his upcoming divorce and I told him about the company closing and my search for a new engineering position. Kenny told me he would keep his ears open and we went our separate ways. By now, it was almost lunchtime so I stopped by a walk-up Cuban place not far from the pet store to get a sandwich to take home with me. I know I should be trying to conserve money and not eat out but Bismarck got a treat for helping me meet Faye Reagan and hey, I met Faye Reagan, even if I did not say that I knew whom she was. If she were a sports star or something, sure, I would talk about whatever it was that she did. A pornstar though? Well I would not necessarily want that blabbed out in the middle of a dog park if it was I.

I actually live in a condominium building in the Bay Harbor Islands. If you have ever seen the show Dexter, his apartment is at the north end of the Island. It is kind of a neat bit of trivia. I live on the east side of the Island facing Indian Creek and across that, a neighborhood called Bal Harbor. The easiest way to get onto the island is to head east on 123rd until it turns into the Broad Causeway. The Causeway has a short overwater section, then a mini-island where the tollway complex is and then a second overwater stretch into the Bay Harbor Islands and the seaward island with Bal Harbor Beach and Surfside. Anyway, the Causeway is a little more than 5 miles long and a single problem can snarl traffic like you would not believe. Yeah, you guessed it. The causeway headed east stalled as soon as I hit the toll plaza island. I had no idea where the problem was.

I played the stop and go game, inching forward toward whatever fresh hell awaited me down the road until I got to the scene of the problem. Somebody was on the side of the road and all the looky-loos had to see what was going on. As I got closer, I saw that it was a white Chevy Tahoe pulled over to the side with the hood up. Sitting on the rear bumper with a cell to her ear was Faye. I guess the karmic pendulum was finally reversing course a bit.

I signaled to pull over and parked behind Faye's SUV as if I belonged there. She looked up with a stressed expression on her face and then looked at her phone before hanging up and sliding it into the rear pocket of her cutoffs.

My interior monologue kicked off with "Please doesn't screw this up, please don't screw this up. Your favorite pornstar is broken down by the side of the road and you can help her out."

I got out of the car and waved, "Hi Faye, its Josh. We met at the dog park earlier today. Everything okay?" Not the smoothest line because everything was obviously not okay. People do not pull over on the Broad and put their hood up for fun but it was an okay start.

"No, it's not okay. My truck practically blew up on me and my piece of shit auto club can't get out here for at least two hours." Faye was fuming. Fortunately, she was not fuming at me.

"I'm no Mr. Goodwrench but I'm pretty mechanical if it isn't something that you'll need computer diagnostics on to be able to fix. Can you tell me what happened?"

Faye's expression changed, possibly because for the first time in a long while nobody wanted anything from her. She was not getting the run around from her auto club. Someone was just trying to help a stranded motorist. She started to explain.

"Just as I hit the first overwater the truck started to make some bad grinding noises as it shifted gears. The engine started sounding rough and it smelled as if something was burning. By the time I got to the plaza the check engine light was on and the engine quit not long after. I managed to coast here. And now I'm stuck."

I grimaced. I did not need a diagnostic to tell me that she had blown her transmission and that the Tahoe was not going anywhere without a tow truck to the nearest mechanic. I told her as much and she crumpled a bit. I went back to my car and got a bottle of water to give to her.

"Here, it's hot out and you look like you could use a drink." She took the water appreciatively and drank from it.

"Thank you. God this sucks. I was going to go down to the beach for a while with Poppy and then head back to Coral Gables where I am staying while I am in town. Now I am stuck here for who knows how long and my truck is busted...and...and..."

She just collapsed. It looked like someone had let open an air valve on her and she deflated as the circumstances hit her. I sat down on the bumper next to her and put my arm around her shoulders.

"Hey, it's okay. You will get through this. Look, you do not have to sit here on the side of the road until the auto club comes. I live just a couple miles from here. I have AC, cold beer in the fridge and a not terrible view. Come to my condo and you can wait there. We will call your auto club and have them call you when they get here. Ten minutes later and tada you will be here with your truck for them to take it wherever you need to go. Then I can get you to Coral Gables and you will be set. It's no problem."

"You'd do that? Why? I mean I appreciate it and all but you just met me like three hours ago."

My interior monologue piped up again, "No. Do not do it. Do not tell her you know who she is. All she's going to think is that you are some sort of skeevy fan who wants to rescue her and maybe get a piece as thanks." I quashed the voice. I'm not skeevy and while I certainly wouldn't turn down Faye Reagan if she threw herself at me I was genuinely trying to be a nice guy. She is stuck, I know her at least a bit, and I am just trying to help. Honesty first then.

"Well, if I'm totally honest, I do know who you are Ms. Reagan." The silence stretched out for ten seconds, then twenty. "But I'm really truly just trying to help. I mean I am a fan and all and I would not mind an autograph maybe but I know that if the situations were reversed that I would appreciate somebody coming to help me. That is all. I promise."

You could see the wheels turning behind her brown eyes. Skeevy fan or Rescue Ranger? I could tell when she made her decision. The lights turned back on in her eyes and she smiled.

"Again, thanks. Let me get my things from the truck and then we will go. Poppy isn't going to be a problem is she?"

"Nah, and if she decides to be a bitch like you said, we can always put her in time out in Bismarck's crate. Come on. You can call your auto club while I drive back to my place."

"Holy crap you did it!" my interior monologue crowed, "You managed not to make an idiot of yourself and Faye Reagan is going home with you, at least for a while! Who the man? You the man!" Sometimes my monologue is a bit to bro-frat boy for his own good but what can you do?

Faye came back carrying her purse, a tote with the stuff she had at the dog park and I shit you not her dog Poppy in a second bag. Yip-Yips in bags. What have we come to?

She got in my car with her purse at her feet and her dog in her lap. Bismarck stuck his head between the seats, glared at the Yip-Yip, and then looked at me as if to say "What the hell? You bring that thing in here just because her owner has a nice pair of tits?" Everyone is a critic. Since I got him fixed, my dog seems to think that he has to approve of whomever I am with. If he cannot have any, I should not get any either.

I started the car and pulled out into traffic.

Chapter 3 - No Good Deed

I waited while Faye made a call back to her auto club with instructions on calling her as well as an ETA on when the truck would get there. Something did not go well on that last part because she scowled again. When she hung up she said, "Fuck. I cannot believe those assholes. Now they say four hours before the truck will be here. They were tapped to deal with some colossal wreck out near Ft. Lauderdale and no one else is available. After all the money I pay for their supposed "Platinum Service" this is what I get? I should just go get fucking AAA."

"Ugh, that sucks," I replied, "Look on the bright side though; you aren't stuck on the Broad Causeway for four hours. You have a place to be at least. Say, do you have anywhere that you need to be? Anyone who is going to miss you if you do not show up? I just want you to feel safe, and I do not want to see your picture and my plate number on the 6pm news for having abducted you or something. You have a friend or somebody that you could call just to let them know you are okay? My names Josh Henson and here's my address and cell. Call somebody if you like, just to be safe."

Faye looked at me like I had grown a second head but then she dialed the phone and said "Marcy, this is Faye. My truck blew up in Miami and I caught a ride with a friend to wait on the truck instead of being stuck on the side of the road. His name is Josh. Here is his address and cell. He said I should call you as a safety thing. Weird right?"

I interjected "Tell Marcy to call me when she gets off the phone with you to verify it isn't a fake number."

"Did you hear that, yeah, weird. But nice. How many other people would pull over and give somebody a lift after insisting they make a safety call?"

I heard more murmuring from Marcy.

"Actually yeah. He said he recognized me while I was at the dog park with Poppy. Okay, so maybe a fan might pull over but I doubt the safety call would happen. Ciao Marcy. Don't forget to call. If I don't call tonight, send the Marines."

Fifteen seconds after Faye hung up my phone rang. I hit the Bluetooth and answered, "Marcy? Yeah hi. This is Josh. Everything is fine. Faye's truck took a dump on the way out to the beach and I helped her out of a jam."

"Yes I know who Faye is and what she does...or did since she retired a ways back."

"Yes I'm a fan."

"No, I'm not hoping to get laid for helping Faye out." At this bit, Faye squawked a bit and backhanded me on my arm.