Bunny Tales (25 page)

Most of us understood that to be the case when we began hanging out with Hef and then moved into the Mansion, but it was the ex-Girlfriends and the girls who were leaving as we were arriving who taught us that it was okay to break the rules. Tina confided in us that she was leaving for a man she met while with Hef in Las Vegas. I remember one night we went out to Myiagi’s on Sunset Boulevard for some sushi, and a few minutes into the dinner, Tina received a phone call that her daughter had a high fever, so she had to leave. She later told us that she caught a 9 p.m. flight to New York to see her man. She stayed several days, and the day she got back was the same day we went on our first trip to New York City. She was cracking up on the plane because she had just returned from there. As time went on we learned that practically everyone had a relationship outside of the Mansion.

Being locked in at night was tough; it was like wasted youth. Some of the girls entertained themselves by having relationships with the butlers. One of the Girlfriends fooled around with a security guy right there in the movie theater, with Hef a couple of seats over. They would also sneak into the game room or somewhere out on the grounds for a moment of pleasure. Personally, I was never interested in the staff. There was one time when Hef and the girls went out and I stayed in because I had just had my boobs done, and one of the cute young butlers asked if there was anything I needed and I joked that I needed a boob massage. He came to my room and sat on my bed, making it obvious that he was up for anything I wanted, but I started giggling nervously and asked him to leave. I never did anything with anyone that worked for Hef. It wasn’t my thing. No matter what I thought or didn’t think of Hef, I couldn’t be that disrespectful. The man was paying my bills, and I was living in his house. I had to draw boundaries.

We were not nearly as insolent as some of the previous Girlfriends had been, but most of us were also involved with people outside of the Mansion. Emma was married, and although Hef knew it, he thought they were separated and did not know they shared an apartment. Under the pretext of spending “quality time” with her eleven-year-old son, she told Hef she needed to spend Sunday nights at her apartment. Of course she would go home and spend quality time with her husband instead. Every time Hef challenged her about why she still kept an apartment and needed Sundays off, she would overwhelm him with a speech about children’s needs, in turn, I think, making him feel guilty about his own shortcomings as a parent; he backed off. However, he must have realized that when she went home on Sunday night at 9 and her son had to be up for school the next morning, it was not about doing homework together. In addition to her changing local boyfriends, Emma also visited a former love in England. She would go on these trips to see him and show me pictures of him upon returning to the Mansion. She used to make me laugh so much with all of her scandals and intrigue.

Soon after she became a Girlfriend, it came out that Bridget was also married. Apparently her husband still lived in Lodi and had supported her move to L.A. She was to have one year to “make it” in the entertainment industry, and he supported her financially during that time. We thought it was weird that she had dated Ray Manzella and now was sleeping with Hef, considering she was married, but as long as she stayed out of my business, I stayed out of hers. Besides, Emma didn’t want that to become an issue with Hef, as it would bring her situation to light as well. I found it ironic that Bridget, the girl who spent her time gossiping about the rest of us and trying to get us in trouble by finding out what she could about our lives, had some things to hide. But I wonder how her husband is still tolerating her presence at the Mansion as she admits to having sex with Hef on national television to promote the reality show.

Though Emma and Bridget were the only married ones, Roxy also had her boyfriend, Susan was seeing a couple of different guys, and even Candy, who always seemed so innocent, had some football player boyfriend. It seemed like everyone besides Holly (at least as far as I know) had a relationship with a man or men outside of the Mansion when we lived there.

I was still hanging out with Justin regularly, even though we were not in a relationship. We still had feelings for each other that continued to grow throughout the time I lived at the Mansion. We spoke on the phone several times a day, and we saw each other as much as we could. I even managed to get him into a couple of parties at the Mansion. We all did that; Hef allowed each Girlfriend to invite a few people to the parties. To get boys that we liked into the parties, we usually matched them up with other female friends on our list and presented them as couples to divert suspicion.

The famous Playboy Mansion parties were a great way to meet new boys. We could not wait to walk away from the table we had to sit at with Hef; we constantly made excuses to go to the bathroom, to get food, and whatever else we could think of so that we could get up from the table and go walk around and mingle. I met Stephen Dorff at Hef’s birthday party. We made eye contact and kept flirting with each other, but because my duty was to sit at the table with Hef all night, nothing more came of the flirtation. The next morning, I heard Stephen had gotten caught with some other girl in the guesthouse, and at the time he was actually going out with the Playmate of the Year. There were so many casual encounters like that. One night when we were having dinner at Morton’s, Emma and I managed to exchange numbers with Warren G by shaking hands right in front of Hef, without him knowing. And there were lots of late-night calls on my cell from Ja Rule, trying to hook up. But I never did anything about it.

My favorite story involves meeting a rock star I had a crush on for years. It was just another Wednesday night, and we made our way to the Purple Lounge at the Standard. I was totally bored, scanning the room for anything interesting, when a hot guy dressed in all black walked through the door and drew my attention. I checked him out and thought he was cute. There was something strangely familiar about him, and in a light bulb moment I realized it was a rock star guitarist I had had a crush on for three years! Wow. There he was, he whom I considered to be one of the hottest men on earth. A guy I never thought I would meet, particularly since I knew he lived on the East Coast. He joined a group of guys sitting a few feet away from us. I turned to look at him to make sure I didn’t just imagine this; our eyes met, it was him. I had to do something. I had to go meet him, just to say hi, anything. I needed a reason though. Just then Hef was getting antsy and wanted to leave. I had to think fast. I was totally embarrassed, but I asked Hef for his camera, and went to say hi to him and told him I was a fan and I would like a picture. He was sweet and gracious and posed with me. Hef then wanted to know who it was and of course wanted in on the action so we took another photo with him. He told me that he would be back in town in a few days for the KROQ All Acoustic Christmas concert. He told me I should go and, trying to act nonchalant, I said that sounded cool. I gave my phone number to one of his guys. He called me a couple days later and told me they would have tickets for me at the box office. I was ecstatic. But how would I get out of the house?

The concert fell on a Sunday night, a day Emma was allowed to go home and spend time with her son. Emma and I came up with a plan: We would tell Hef that I had to go over to her apartment so that we could work on a Christmas present for him. It was the perfect solution; it was for him, and it was a secret so we didn’t have to say too much. That Sunday afternoon I went to talk to Hef. He wasn’t thrilled about it and acted slightly suspicious, but after some moaning and mumbling, he acquiesced. I got ready and jumped in my car, following Emma out of the Mansion. I went to pick up my friend Lea, a former Girlfriend of Hef, and we headed to the Universal Amphitheater. When we got to the concert venue, we picked up our tickets and passes, and we went backstage to hang out with the musicians. Lea knew a couple of guys from Good Charlotte, so we hung out with them. Then my rock star came out right before the show began to say hi. We went in to watch the show. We were up against the stage watching him perform. When he was on the stage we made eye contact, and he smiled at me—I was in heaven. Afterward, we went backstage and met them at the dressing room. From there, we all headed over to their tour bus. We hung out until 3 a.m.; they played music and sang and we talked. Yes,
talked.
It was all so amazing I never even thought of initiating anything sexually. Then the bus driver suddenly announced that they had to leave—they were heading to Vegas for the American Music Awards. He walked me to my car to say goodbye, and we kissed. It was amazing.

He got married five days later.

Hef never asked me why I got home so late or any other questions regarding that night. I was prepared to tell Hef that I drank too much wine at Emma’s and had to sober up before I could drive home; fortunately, I never had to lie. A couple of months after the concert, a picture of us that Hef had taken at the Standard showed up in the “Hanging with Hef” section of the magazine. I smirked when I saw it.
If Hef only knew
.

There were other times when men we had crushes on came right to our doorstep, literally. Like the time Nelly and Justin Timberlake shot a video for “Work It” at the Playboy Mansion. When we heard that we were going to be in the video we were psyched, all being fans of Nelly and Justin. The shoot took two days, and we got to hang out with the guys a few times; both were friendly and fun. The video was released in Europe and Asia but not in North America because of some sexual content. We didn’t even know until we saw it a couple months later. There was a scene on the Mansion’s tennis court with these two models playing and every time the ball hits them, a part of their clothing falls off, eventually leaving them “nekkid.” The video is actually a really cool, concept: Justin and Nelly play two Mansion gardeners who decide to take over the Mansion and have a party while Hef and the Girlfriends are out of town.

After that Justin became our buddy, inviting us to his white-trashthemed birthday party at Dublin’s on Sunset Boulevard. There were newspapers on the tables with KFC buckets with forties and Spam in them. His lady friend at the time, Alyssa Milano, was there and his ex, Britney Spears, ended up coming later on in the night. Other guests included Olivier Martinez, who was
so
sexy in his role in
Unfaithful
with Diane Lane, as well as Pink, Nick Lachey and Jessica Simpson—who did not seem happy that all of the blonde Playboy bunnies were sitting next to them. Some time later, Justin came to Hef’s birthday party wearing a “Who’s afraid of a little pussy” shirt, with a cute kitty cat underneath the words. A slightly awkward moment ensued when Justin saw Fred Durst across the room and then Britney made her quick appearance in the same room.

We hung out with Justin’s best friend, Trace, who wanted to get into the grotto. We were all for it, except we had to make the grand exit with Hef and then sneak back down again. When we did, we saw Trace in the grotto with some girl but couldn’t find Justin. Of course we would have gotten in so much trouble if Hef found out that we went into the grotto with boys, but at the time we weren’t thinking about the consequences—we were living for the moment. Unfortunately we did not even have an opportunity to get in trouble.

There was never a shortage of men or intrigue. The weirdest thing happened to me one night as I lay in bed with the flu while Hef and the Girlfriends went out to a club. I was watching television, and I got a call on my cell phone from the manager of the rock band Creed, who wanted to know if I could help the lead singer, Scott Stapp, get into the Playboy Super Bowl party in San Diego in two days. I told him I would see what I could do and told the guy that Scott was free to call me if he didn’t hear from me before the party. A few minutes later, the phone in my room rang. The butler told me it was Scott Stapp! I was stunned—the lead singer of a band I had been a fan of for years was calling me.
This should be interesting
, I thought. I told the butler to put him through. He said hi and asked about the party. I told him I would do whatever I could to get him in. He gave me his phone numbers and I told him I would call him the next day. I hung up and thought,
That was a cool, random, little experience
. Fifteen minutes later, my phone rang again, and the butler told me it was Scott Stapp. I could tell from the butler’s tone that he was wondering why this rock star was calling me again, but I didn’t know myself. The Girlfriends are not allowed to receive calls to their bedrooms directly; all of the phone calls go through the butlers. But of course I took the call. Scott tells me he is in Carlsbad at some hotel and he has a cabana. He doesn’t know if he is going out that night yet, but he enjoyed talking to me earlier and was wondering if we could chat. Intrigued, I say yes. We ended up talking for about five hours! He told me about his childhood, his father, and his sisters. He talked about his heartbreak and also about how much he loved his son. He also talked about the band. He told me that the other guys were total band geeks, but that he never really wanted to be a rock star; he wanted to be a baseball player. He said the band thing just fell into his lap and it was so easy to be a singer, to be a rock star. I thought he was ungrateful. I have so many friends who are musicians and wish they had the opportunities that he had. Scott was lucky and did not realize it.

Nevertheless, I enjoyed the thoughts and experiences he shared with me. He seemed like he was a little lost, like he needed a friend and I was happy to be there for him. Toward the end of our conversation, around 1 a.m., he announced that he was coming to get me in his limo. He was going to get a driver and come pick me up at the Mansion. I thought it was charming even though I knew there was no way in hell I could ever get out of the house past nine, let alone in the middle of the night with a rock star. I can just imagine the conversation with Hef, “Honey, I know I didn’t go out with you tonight because I wasn’t feeling well, but Scott Stapp is coming to pick me up in his limo and we are going to go to a few pre-Super Bowl parties in San Diego. Sleep well.” My stuff would be packed up and left on the curb before I even got out of L.A. But I was too embarrassed to explain to Scott the whole curfew thing and the rules I was living under, so I just told him that it would take him two hours to get here and then two hours to drive back, and it would be way too late to go anywhere. Plus, I was sick. He gave up eventually.