Bunny Tales (35 page)

“Are you really crying because I sat next to Hef in the limo?” I asked. “That is really pathetic. I’m leaving. You can sit next to him for the rest of your sorry life. This isn’t about you. You really need to take your medication.” I suddenly remembered that she used to take meds.

All she could say in reply was, “I don’t take any medication.”

“That’s the problem. You should start taking your meds again, you psycho bitch.”

I walked away and saw her immediately run to Hef to complain. I saw his face fill with anger and his eyes found me across the dance floor.

He came over to Susan and me, and grabbed our arms and started shaking us.

“I have had enough of this shit!”

I couldn’t control my emotions. There was too much built up. I started crying. “You always choose their side!”

“Oh yeah, I am so unfair,” he yelled.

“You
are
unfair
!
I am glad you realize it!” It felt so good to call him on it.

“You are both going home right now,” he said sternly and motioned for the security.

“
You
can go Hef, we are staying!” I yelled. There was no stopping me now.

I realized what a scene that made. People were staring, but I couldn’t have cared less. I ran off to the bathroom to compose myself. I came out to find Susan sitting at the table, bawling, her face buried in her hands and Hef down on his knees trying to talk to her. I grabbed her and we walked off. She said that he told her she doesn’t have to be involved in this fight, that it was my fault for fighting with Bridget. I couldn’t believe he was trying to turn us against each other again. He had realized he lost me and I think he was trying to save Susan. I hated him at that moment. I hated him for being so easily blinded and manipulated. I hated him for being weak. I looked over and saw Bridget, who was so devastated and crying two minutes ago, now all smiles, dancing—or flopping her body around, as I called it. At that point I realized the bitch did it on purpose. I did not think she was upset; she just wanted to make sure that I kept my word and left the Mansion by making the situation irreparable.
How could Hef not see the manipulation, the set-up?
I wondered.

Susan and I weren’t standing there for one minute before guys approached us offering us drinks. We accepted, determined to get drunk and have fun. Five minutes after we had walked away from him, Hef and the other girls left. Susan and I stayed at the club for another hour, flirting and drinking. As we walked out of the club,
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and other paparazzi cameras were in our face. Drunk and free, Susan and I didn’t hold back. “We got in trouble with Hef. We broke up! We’re free! Now we have to take a cab home to the Mansion.” Then we jumped into the first available cab and told the cabdriver to take us to the Playboy Mansion. We called Emma on the way to fill her in. We screamed and ranted, laughing about how much fun they must be having in the bedroom right now and how we’d bet Hef couldn’t get it up. The cabdriver must have had a blast. As soon as we pulled up the driveway and got out, Mark, Hef’s main security man, was there to pay for it, which was great because we had no money with us. We ran to Emma’s room to vent. I think she was happy that all this happened because now she didn’t have to leave on her own. I knew it would have hurt her a lot to walk out of there and to have her two best friends stay behind. Now we were all going to leave together like we always talked about.

I was high on adrenaline, so I went back to my room and started to pack. It was three o’clock in the morning, but I kept at it. Box after box went into my truck. I meant to fill it up, drive to my apartment, unload, and come back to do it all over again until every single item was out of there. I was not going to stay in this disgusting house of hypocrisy and lies. Finally at 8 a.m., I collapsed from exhaustion. I woke up two hours later to find the office workers already aware of what happened and the house buzzing with people. It was the annual PMOY luncheon, the formal brunch where the new PMOY is announced and receives her prizes.

I continued packing until late in the evening. All that was left in my Mansion bedroom were some random things in the closet. I would have moved those, but it was already night time and I still had to pack for the wedding. I finally got to bed at four in the morning only to wake up three hours later and get on the plane. That was a disastrous weekend. I was beyond exhausted at Niki and Angelo’s wedding—I actually had to walk away from the altar during the ceremony because I almost fainted. I was physically and emotionally beat up and I couldn’t even enjoy her wedding properly.

Three days later, I was back in L.A. When I drove to the Mansion to pick up the rest of my things, I found them already packed for me. The butlers told me that they had been asked to pack all of my stuff. I ran into Hef in the hallway as I was leaving.

“I am sorry it all happened like this. You are still welcome to come to all the parties and everything,” was all he said. I was glad he said that, but I don’t know if I would even want to come to the parties. He hurt my feelings, and I was disappointed in him. Would I want to run into Bridget? Plus, if you have been to a couple of parties at the Mansion, you have been to them all. We exchanged niceties, and I left. As I struggled to find a spot for a fish bowl (with the water and fish in it) in my truck, I saw Hef watching me out a window. I smiled, and he smiled back. I know he is a sentimental person, and I know he was feeling a sense of loss and sadness at that moment. I was too; after all, we had been a part of each other’s lives for two and a half years. I waved to him, and he walked away as I drove off.

That was the last time I really saw Hef.

21: Post-Bunnydom.

“I’m not afraid of storms, for I’m learning to sail my ship.”

—Louisa May Alcott

T
he first year after I moved out of the Mansion was like living in the twilight zone. The world seemed a strange place, and I was even stranger to myself. I felt like I needed to be deprogrammed. There’s a little bit of the Stockholm syndrome in being isolated from everyone and everything in your life, and then you start to identify with your captor. Pretty soon, you become the Bunny.

It was weird not to have a curfew. I remember driving my car after 9 p.m. for the first time in years. The world looked different. I kept having a feeling like I was going to get in trouble from someone. It was strange to be able to do whatever I wanted and go wherever I wanted again. But I had become so unaccustomed to having my own social life, particularly at night, that I really didn’t know what to do. Emma’s apartment was right in the middle of Hollywood, and she and Susan did not waste anytime getting into the Hollywood party scene. On one of their nights out, they ran into a guy who had dated Holly; he told them Holly had been after Hef for a long time. She had researched everything about him to appeal to him once she was able to get close enough to him and then set out to become one of the Girlfriends. It made a lot of sense, since she claimed to have studied psychology just like he did, and claimed that her favorite food and movies were the same as his, and all of this other stuff that we thought was more than a coincidence.

I partied with Emma and Susan for a couple of months. Every time I did, I came home at six in the morning. Although I had a lot of fun, I could not keep up with that lifestyle. I really needed a break. I changed my phone number, settled into my place by the beach, and began getting used to life once again. I had this strong urge to nest. I spent my time decorating my apartment to perfection. I cleaned it every day—every room had to be spotless. I knew something was seriously wrong with me when I learned how to cook and actually liked it. It was so bizarre not to be able to order room service anymore. Every morning when I woke up, I had the urge to dial “0” and order my usual. But the last few months, I had missed doing things for myself and this was my opportunity. I became a total domestic. I didn’t know what was happening to me. I guess for two years I felt like I didn’t really have a home, a place of my own, and so when I finally did, I wanted to enjoy it, to savor every minute. I also wanted to prove to myself that I did not need to live in a Mansion with a staff of seventy to have a good life and be happy.

But nothing works in the extreme, and my newfound domesticity was soon not enough. I have learned that a balance is necessary; sometimes it’s nice to stay in and cook dinner, watch a movie, and go to bed early; other times it’s great to get dressed and go dancing, come home late, and drink too much coffee the next day. Being a true Libra, I am constantly seeking the perfect balance in my life. When the scales tip to one side too much, the equilibrium is lost, and I make impulsive decisions. Life in the spotlight—while fun, exciting, and exhilarating, proved very empty and lonely. For me, fame and fortune only mean something if you can share them and enjoy them with the people you love. Without my family close by, and without being able to spend time with my friends, it was a very empty lifestyle.

Although I felt like a fish out of water after I left the Mansion, I didn’t miss it. I was sorry that things had ended the way they had because I always planned on leaving on good terms with everyone, particularly Hef. I was curious to see what kind of a relationship, if any, I would continue to have with Hef. I decided to test the waters.

I had inherited a goldfish named Bob. It had been given to Marston, Hef’s teenage son, as a birthday present, but because his mom Kimberly has so many cats, it was not a good idea for Bob to stay at their house. Marston brought him over to the Mansion to find someone willing to take him. I have a soft spot for animals, so I took Bob in. The pugs didn’t mind; in fact, Balbina used to lie on the bed and watch Bob swim. I bought him a new small tank and all of the necessary supplies. But Bob had grown fast, and by the time I moved out of the Mansion, he was way too big for the tank and I needed a new one. About two weeks after I moved out, I e-mailed Hef’s assistant and explained that Bob needed a new tank, but since I needed my savings to start my new life, I could not afford to spend the money on a new fish tank. Could Hef help me out, since I adopted the fish as a favor to Marston. I knew it sounded hokey, but I wanted to see what Hef would do. I got a reply that Hef would not pay for the fish tank. Okay, so I knew where things stood between Hef and I; I e-mailed back saying I was disappointed that Hef has chosen to be on unfriendly terms with us. It wasn’t about the fish tank. I had already bought one, before I received the reply e-mail. I bought Bob a huge mansion of a tank with all the luxuries he could require and charged it to my credit card. A week later a letter came from HMH (Hugh Marston Hefner):

“Dear Izabella,

Here is the check for the new fish bowl.

I don’t have “unfriendly” feelings about you, Emma or Susan. The only concern I have in that regard is related to Holly and Bridget. I care about all of you, but I don’t want to have to deal with any more of the negativity that prompted the break up. That isn’t the way any of us should have to live.

Love, Hef.”

I knew it. Of course it all had to do with Holly and Bridget. Now that we were gone, God only knew what they were saying about us. Hef wasn’t allowed to be nice to us or invite us to the Mansion or the parties until they got over it; he wasn’t going to jeopardize his sex life when he was only left with two Girlfriends. But he did send money for the fish tank; that meant he still cared at some hidden level.

After that, it was time for the Midsummer Night’s Dream party. I did not receive an invitation, and neither did the other girls, despite the fact that the last thing Hef said to me was that I was still welcome at all of the parties. The first invitation to a party arrived for New Year’s Eve. I spent Christmas in Canada and was unable to attend the party. And why would I go without a date? Since I was Hef’s ex-Girlfriend, I thought it was time that I be allowed to bring a date, Justin, with me; I thought I had earned that right. I spoke to Emma, and she told me she had not been invited to any of the parties. She also told me that when her son went to play with Hef’s kids (they had become friends during the time Emma lived at the Mansion), some of the girls there objected to having him hang out at the Mansion. Despite Emma’s letters to Hef asking to be invited to parties, he refused to allow her to come to the Mansion. I thought it was really sad how Hef let those girls influence him. After all, we did live at that house for more than two years. We didn’t do anything to Hef; there was no reason for him to act this way. It never ceases to amaze me what little backbone he has and how he can be such a successful businessman but cannot be a man when it comes to his own relationships.

In July 2005, I received an invitation for the MSND party. At that point it had been more than a year since I moved out. I had not been to the Mansion at all. I decided to go. I wanted to see what it would feel like to return. Everyone, the Mansion staff and Hef’s friends as well as many Playmates, were very nice and happy to see me. I realized that I cared about a lot of those people and had missed seeing them around. All of the butlers said that it is so boring at the Mansion without Emma, Susan, and I, and that Hef and the three current Girlfriends hardly ever go out because Holly doesn’t want to.
So that Hef doesn’t meet new girls
, I thought. Hef’s close friends told me that Hef does what he does to keep the harmony in the group and to keep the girls who remained with him happy. Holly was friendly to me, but Bridget was cold, which was expected. And then there was Hef. I said “hi” to him and he looked at me like he barely recognized me. I felt uncomfortable and awkward. It made me sad to think that that was all that was left of the time we spent together.