Sliding Into Home (14 page)

After the sex portion of the evening was over, the girls all got into pj’s and did their own thing around the house. I went to the kitchen
and starting chatting with the butlers. They seemed like the most down-to-earth people in the whole place, so I immediately bonded with them. Plus, they told me I could order whatever I wanted, which made me like them even more. I got a big-ass hamburger and chili cheese fries, and I was in heaven. I think they were surprised to see me eat so much, but it was a good way to end the night.

For the most part the whole evening was a lot of fun; seeing the big picture made the time in Hef’s room seem like less of a big deal. The one negative to the whole
orgy, orgy, orgy
was thinking about Zack. I had never cheated on him before—with a guy, at least—and I didn’t know where this would leave us.

I knew our relationship was probably ending, but I wasn’t really sure how I would explain myself to him. All I knew was that things were changing for me. This was about to become my new life. I could feel it. And with that thought in my head, I went to sleep.

The next morning Hef came into my room to see how I was doing. Hef
never
went in the guesthouse. I’d done my research on him, so I knew that.

“Hello, my darling,” he said.

He was so charming. That was all it took to make the crazy thoughts that had been bouncing around my head the night before go away.

Hef didn’t go to the other girls’ rooms. He’d singled me out. I felt special, loved, and pretty. Isn’t that all a girl really wants out of a boyfriend?

“Get your suit on,” he said. “Everyone
is in the pool.”

We went down to the pool and swam and lay around in the sun all day. I enjoyed a beautiful day at a beautiful mansion and took it as a sign of a beautiful new beginning.

CHAPTER 11
 

Fresh Princess of Bel Air

After that weekend, I returned to Zack as a different girl. I felt like he and I were drifting apart, but I didn’t think he saw it that way, and I was anxious to see how everything would play out.

When I got home, he asked me only basic questions about my weekend. “So how was it?” was about as detailed as he wanted to get, which was great, because “Fine” was really all the information I wanted to offer.

We mostly kept our distance and didn’t talk about where I’d been or what I’d done. He didn’t want to know, and I didn’t want to tell him. Some things are better left unspoken.

Over the next five or six weeks I returned to the Mansion every weekend. Every Friday Hef would send the car, and every Sunday I would return to my life in San Diego. I’d been invited to move to the Mansion full-time, but I couldn’t because during my first phone call with Hef I’d lied and told him I was in school. Mark had told me that Hef liked girls who were in college, so I’d told him what I thought
he wanted to hear. Of course that meant I had to be “in school” during the week, until summer arrived, when I would be free to be at the Mansion full-time.

Meanwhile, I was spending my weekdays in San Diego waiting around for the weekend. I had nothing going on there anymore. I went into Cheetah’s a couple of times just to pay the bills, but I was ready for a change.

When summer rolled around, I was out of excuses and ready to make the move. The only problem was that I still had a few months left on my apartment lease, and I had both Zack and a roommate counting on me to pay the bills.

“How much?” Hef asked when I told him my problem.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if you can’t move in and be my girlfriend until the lease is up, how much would it cost to just pay for it all right now?”

“I don’t know, a little over four grand, maybe,” I said, unsure of what he was going to do.

That weekend he came to my room at the guesthouse and handed me an envelope. Inside was $5,000 in cash. All I could do was smile. He liked me so much that he wasn’t going to let a few months of rent stop me from moving into the Mansion. I was flattered. If I was wavering at all about what I wanted to do, this put my doubts to rest. I knew then that I would be moving to the Playboy Mansion full-time.

When I went back to Zack after that weekend, I sat him down, handed him the cash, and told him my plan.

“Hef wants me to move up there full-time,” I said in the most serious voice I had ever used.

“Well, what about us?”

“We’ll be fine,” I assured him. “It will only be for a few months, and then I’ll be back.” I knew it would be longer, but I felt bad so I gave him something to hold on to.

“So we’ll be back together when you come back?”

“Yes, I promise.”

“Then why go? What’s the point?” he asked.

“This could be good for me,” I said. “It’s a good place to be for a few months. I just feel like it’s a good idea.” I knew it was over with Zack. I was losing interest in him, but I didn’t want to break his heart.

“Okay,” he said. “If that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

“I’ll be here when you get back.”

I packed a couple of suitcases and told Cheetah’s that I was moving to the Playboy Mansion. They didn’t seem to care very much.

With Zack, the good-bye was a little harder. He didn’t know what was actually happening, but I knew this would be good-bye for good. When he realized I was taking my dogs, Raskal and Martini, Zack was not happy. I got them when we were together, so there definitely was some attachment there, but it’s hard to say whether he wanted to keep the dogs or if he knew that my taking them meant I was probably not coming back. Either way, he was pissed off, and the good-bye felt more bitter and angry than anything else.

I hopped in the limo that Hef sent for me and took off. I didn’t bother saying good-bye to my mom. I knew she wasn’t happy about the move, and after Zack’s reaction I didn’t want to hear it. There were no tears on my end; this was a happy occasion for me. I spent
the whole two-hour ride looking out the window, and it felt like a spiritual event.
Where is this road taking me?
I thought. I knew moving to the Mansion was a risk, but I also knew that I had little to lose. In my gut I knew it was a good idea, but I worried a bit about what I was getting myself into.

During those two hours I thought about everything I had done in my life—the hell I’d put my mom through, the danger I had put my own life in. After a while, I knew this wasn’t a risk I was taking; this was a path I was meant to be on. This was my future, and I was excited about it.

When I pulled up to the Mansion I looked down and realized that Martini, who wasn’t spayed, had had her period all over the nice limo that Hef sent for me. Some would say that was a bad sign. I just thought a dog having its period all over a limo was funny. I wonder if Hef knows Bob Barker . . .

Inside the Mansion, once again I felt a little lost. By that point I knew my way around, but I didn’t know what I was supposed to be doing there. Did the other girls have jobs? What was I supposed to do all day? It was all very confusing, and I didn’t have any friends to help me figure it out.

Bridget was so nice to me that first weekend, but our relationship quickly went south when it became known that I was moving in full-time. Hef had recently kicked out a bunch of girls because they were bad and did a lot of things to piss him off. Plus, those girls didn’t get along with Holly and Bridget, and from day one, Holly was in charge and Bridget was a close second in command. With four different rooms open, Hef asked me if I wanted to live in Room 2, which was Natalie’s old room. That was fine with me; it was a pretty awesome room. When I told Bridget I was moving in there, she flipped out.

“Room two?” she said. “You can’t move in Room two. That’s going to be my scrapbooking room!”

Umm . . . what?

She wasn’t super-jealous, but I could tell she wasn’t happy. Obviously our relationship would change over time, but in the beginning, when I first moved in, both Bridget and Holly were very territorial. They’d put in their time, and if they wanted Room 2 for scrapbooking instead of a human being, then that’s the way it was going to be.

At the time I thought that they were so stuckup and weird. They told me that they were celebrities and hadn’t worn the same outfit twice in the past six months. I showed up to the Mansion with everything I owned—three shirts, three pairs of jeans, some cutoffs, and some stripper clothes. How was I going to not wear the same thing twice? I wore the same thing four days in a row. I still do! Deep down, I knew—well, I hoped—that I would somehow get along with Holly and Bridget. But I was never going to be like them.

I was really nervous. I was so different; I didn’t see myself fitting in. I wasn’t a celebrity—I was just some girl from Clairemont. I couldn’t compete with those girls. I instantly started questioning what I was doing there. I felt like I didn’t belong. Plus, I had no money, so even if I
wanted
to look the way they looked, I could never afford to do so.

Somehow Hef heard about my situation and came to the rescue. He gave me $2,000 and sent Holly, Bridget, and me in a limo to the Beverly Center to find clothes for me. Even if the girls didn’t like me, they loved shopping, so it was a good opportunity for us to spend time together. Maybe that was part of Hef’s plan—I don’t know—but I bought a bunch of clothes that Holly and Bridget liked on me and we had a great time. At the mall I bought a few tight
things and some clothes that were just slightly nicer than my stripper clothes, and then we went to Melrose Avenue, where I got a bunch of sexy skirts. I looked at what Holly and Bridget were wearing and tried to find similar items. I realized what kind of girl Hef was looking for, and by the end of the day I had a closet full of clothes that made me one of the girls. I had also inched my way closer to having two friends in Holly and Bridget.

Even when they found out Hef had officially given me Room 2, they didn’t complain. Not to me, at least. They just moved their scrapbooks somewhere else.

After shopping I was pooped, but I wanted to enjoy L.A. a little bit. I was hoping some of the girls would want to go out and have fun at a club or something, but when I asked around, I noticed most people were in their pajamas. I didn’t understand what was going on, until someone told me we had a nine
P.M
. curfew.

What? Shut the fuck up!

My first day at the Mansion was overwhelming and exciting, but my first night was one of the loneliest of my life. I used to strip until two in the morning. I was clearly a night person; I couldn’t go to sleep at nine
P.M
. But that was the rule. Hef didn’t want his girls out on the town, getting into trouble and hurting
Playboy
’s reputation.

That evening I sat in my room for a while, staring at the ceiling, not knowing what to do with myself. I took a bath in my new big Jacuzzi tub—soaking in my new life—and then went downstairs into the kitchen to talk to the butlers (even when I was just visiting, I always loved the butlers). I talked to them until two
A.M
. I wasn’t sure what I
was allowed to say or if I could ask about Hef and the other girls, so we just talked about sports and life. I also used that time to take advantage of the “eat anything you want” policy in the Mansion’s kitchen. I had chili cheese fries and a cheeseburger and some beer. It was like a real-life
Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory
. I could have anything I wanted—and I did. I ate until I couldn’t fit one more piece of food into my mouth. It was kind of gross, but delicious, too.

The next morning I woke up still full from my late-night meal but with nothing to do with my day. We had no responsibilities during most weekdays, so I sat around the house. I was so bored and felt so alone. I had Martini and Raskal there to keep me sane, but other than that I had no one.

The first time I visited the Mansion it seemed so big and overwhelming. I thought that I could stay there and be happy forever. After I’d lived there a couple weeks, the Mansion felt like home, and while it was still beautiful, it started to feel really small. I got used to my surroundings and I’d see the same people and feel like I was living in a tiny community instead of a big house. I would walk my dogs in the evening and have moments where I would look around, sigh, and try to take it all in because I knew early on that it wasn’t going to last forever and I wanted to remember as much of the good parts of the experience as possible. Then at night it was back to the kitchen for more burgers and fries.