Sliding Into Home (18 page)

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Authors: Kendra Wilkinson

Tags: #Autobiography, #Models (Persons) - United States, #Biography, #Television personalities - United States, #Entertainment & Performing Arts - General, #Entertainment & Performing Arts, #Models (Persons), #United States, #Television personalities, #Rich & Famous, #Biography & Autobiography, #General, #Entertainment & Performing Arts - Television Personalities, #Wilkinson; Kendra

BOOK: Sliding Into Home
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Something wild
always
happened on those flights, and it seemed to bring Holly, Bridget, and me together. We became a team because even though we weren’t best friends, we knew and understood one another, and we needed one another during those times.

We also stuck together when it came to fighting for what we wanted on the show.

We didn’t get paid a dime to do the entire first season of
The Girls Next Door
. We had our allowance from Hef, and appearing on the show was just something we had to do as his girlfriends.

At first we didn’t know where the show was going or if people were even going to watch it, so we all just went along with it. We felt like we had nothing to lose once we’d laid down the law about what we would and would not do on camera. But then the show started to take off and we knew we deserved more. We were putting in a lot of hours. Plus, we needed more clothes and makeup if we were going to be on camera all the time and constantly out at events promoting the show. No one was giving that stuff to us, so we needed to get paid to make it work.

The three of us got together and fought for a paycheck. We went to Hef and told him that we deserved to be paid, and he made sure
the producers of the show knew we needed some sort of payment to continue.

Eventually we won. It was a minor victory, though, because it’s not like were were getting tons of cash for doing the second season. But it was a good start, and it showed that even if our personalities were very different, Holly, Bridget, and I could come together when we needed to.

The show tried to hype up some sort of jealousy among us and imply that Holly was protective of Hef and didn’t like when Bridget or I got any attention, but I think that was more television than reality. About two and a half years after I moved in, our nights with Hef came to an end. I don’t know if it was Holly’s influence or if Hef lost interest or what, but one night after a party he went upstairs without us. I looked around for some sort of signal that it was time to party, but I saw nothing. And just like that, it was over. I thought,
Cool.

From that point on, Holly had Hef all to herself. If there was any weird tension before, it was gone now. The end of those evenings probably helped us become stronger as a group. You’d be surprised at how not getting naked and sleeping with a guy at the same time can do wonders for a friendship.

My popularity on the show and the success of the show overall also helped me fit in a little better. When the girls saw that I was an asset to the show they realized that maybe I was someone worth getting to know. The fans appreciated me, and Holly and Bridget respected that. It was important for me to have their respect because it allowed us to have good working relationship. And at the end of the day, we all accepted one another for who we were, and it felt good to be one of the girls.

Just as I was starting to feel like an equal, the producers of the
show decided they wanted to take everyone to my hometown to film an episode. I was always afraid of my two worlds colliding, because I didn’t want any of the people I used to hang out with to resurface and get involved in my new life. I also knew that even though I was proud of where I came from, my neighborhood wasn’t exactly what the girls had in mind for a weekend getaway, and I hated the idea of being judged by them.

But it was exciting, too. I heard Hef had never been to a girlfriend’s house before, so I was honored that he chose me to be the first. Obviously, I lived the closest, but I knew he also genuinely cared about me. We shared more of a friendship than a romantic relationship, but I knew I was special to Hef. We had a bond.

All the highlights from that experience were on the episode—including every neighbor peeking their heads out of their windows to watch us film. They were all such gossips. That’s why it pissed me off when Holly said in the episode that I called my hometown a ghetto. I
never
said that. Maybe I acted ghetto, but I’m not from the ghetto, and I would never say that about my neighborhood. When it aired, everyone back home was mad at me. It was the only time I got really pissed off at the show. I feel like I’m still explaining myself to people back home about that.

Whether we filmed in San Diego or not, it was only a matter of time—with or without the show—before someone from my past who I didn’t want to see found me again.

Not surprisingly, it was Zack, still only a couple of years removed from being husband material, who decided to reach out first. I started getting phone calls and e-mails from him saying that he missed me and loved me and wanted me to come home. I know I told him that I
would stay at the Mansion only a couple of months, but I thought he understood that was really a good-bye.

Whenever he called I would apologize and say, “This is my life now. It has to be this way.” It was tough. But then it got scary.

Zack was pissed, and I guess he wanted to get back at me for leaving him. He started posting naked photos of me from when I was seventeen on my MySpace page. Somehow he’d gotten into my page and decided to do some damage. When I found out, I thought,
Hell, no—this is not happening.
I flipped out. Crying, I ran to Hef and told him what was going on. He said he’d take care of it, and it all went away.

Other than a few experiences like that early on, I knew that as the show grew, life in the Mansion would only get better for me. I also knew that it wasn’t going to last forever and if I wanted to make the most of my current situation, I had to act quickly.

Even when I was working at Papa John’s I was good at saving my money, but I wanted to do more than just save my paychecks from the show, and I was worried the opportunities weren’t going to be there when the show finished.

I started to get nervous that I wasn’t doing enough to prepare myself for the future. Holly had Hef and she thought she would live with him in the Mansion forever. Bridget had a master’s degree. What did I have to fall back on? Massage therapy school, flipping pizzas, and scraping plaque off teeth were my only areas of professional expertise, unless you count stripping. And I could never go back to stripping.

I decided to talk to Hef about my problems.

“What happens when the show ends and I get kicked out of here, Hef?” I asked. “I’ll be living on the streets.”

He laughed. “You’ll never be on the streets, darling,” he reassured me. “As long as I’m here you will be just fine.”

I had a great connection with Hef; it wasn’t the same kind of relationship that Holly had with him, but he was always there for me and he could always make me feel better about anything. He had promised I would never be on the streets, and I believed him. But I also knew that I had to take matters into my own hands to guarantee it.

Even before the show started I had wanted to get into acting. I found jobs as an extra posted on Craigslist and went for them on my own, without an agent or anyone helping me. I even booked a job on the show
Las Vegas
, all on my own. It was great. I met Jon Lovitz and James Caan, and I even talked to James about Hef and the Mansion. He told me he’d lived in my room for a couple of months. It was crazy. Then I was supposed to be an extra in a movie with the actor Kevin James, and the day of the shoot I waited for fifteen hours to do my part. I kept asking when it was my turn. It was freezing out and I was starting to get sick. Finally the day ended and they told me they weren’t going to need me.
What the fuck?
I was so pissed. That was the end of being an extra for me.

Once I was on
The Girls Next Door
, I knew I could book bigger roles, but I had to go about things differently. Craigslist wasn’t going to cut it. I needed an agent and a manager and other professionals to book me paying gigs.

A producer I met on
Las Vegas
kept in touch, and with the right amount of ass-kissing I was able to get back on the show, this time with a one-line speaking part. I was in a scene with Josh Duhamel and James Caan, and I played a waitress who had to say “Do you want a drink?” or something like that. I practiced over and over, and when the day was done I officially had the acting bug.

Shortly after that I met Robert Miano, an actor who was in one of my favorite movies,
Donnie Brasco
. He was also an acting coach so I decided to use some of the money I was making from
The Girls Next Door
to take acting lessons. It seemed like a good investment and I thought down the road it could really pay off. No one even knew I was taking the classes. I just did it on my own, and I loved it. It was my plan for the future.

Shortly after my
Las Vegas
gig, I went down to San Diego for a weekend. Hef would let me go there to visit my mom from time to time, and usually I broke the rules while I was there and spent the nights partying with guys. One night I was out and talking to some friends about how I wanted to do more with whatever fame I was getting from the show, and one guy mentioned that he had an agent friend he would introduce me to.

The agent and I spoke on the phone and I was so excited—it seemed like the acting thing was really going to happen for me. Hef wanted me to be happy, and he was cool with me doing whatever I wanted to do to pursue my dreams, but when his team at
Playboy
read the contract the agent sent me, they warned me that signing with him was a bad idea. It turned out the guy was a sports agent, not an entertainment agent, and things didn’t seem right. I didn’t care. I just wanted to make money, so I signed the contract.

My new agent didn’t book me acting gigs; instead, he booked me for appearances at nightclubs and other venues around the country. That was fine with me. As long as I was making money, I didn’t care.

My first appearance was in Cincinnati, Ohio. Hef sent Joe, the
Playboy
security guard, with me for two reasons: to keep me safe, and to make sure I didn’t hook up with any guys. I could leave during the day and go shopping or to classes by myself. I could even visit
my mom by myself. But if I was going to be out at night and I wasn’t staying with my mom, Hef always made sure Joe was with me.

I got a small amount for that first appearance, and my agent took a 20-percent cut. Still, money was money and I was happy. More offers started to come in after that, and I pointed out that rather than doing a million appearances for small fees, maybe I could do fewer and charge more money (as an agent he should have figured that out). It worked out, and before I knew it I was making good money.

Even though I knew my agent wasn’t the best, he became a friend and I was loyal so I stuck with him. The appearances allowed me to send money to my mom and pay her back, in a way, for putting up with me through all the hard times, and every other penny went right in the bank so I could put my fear of living on the streets to rest.

It felt good to be controlling my own destiny. It was also nice get out and be in the spotlight a little without the other girls. I enjoyed that. Everything was going really well, until my skin started to break out. Then I just wanted the spotlight to go away.

CHAPTER 15
 

Breakout Star

The success of the show was really exciting for all of us, but with fame came a new batch of worries.

Throughout my life, the way I saw myself always changed based on what was going on around me. If I didn’t fit in at school or if I had a teacher tell me I wasn’t smart, I got down on myself. But when I landed a new job or was in a position that made me feel pretty, my confidence shot back up.

Filming
The Girls Next Door
created a roller coaster of emotions, and by the time the show was in its third season, I was due for a free fall.

Holly, Bridget, and I were popular enough at that point to have a big fan base, and also our share of haters. Maybe it was my inexperience with celebrity, but I took everything that was said about me to heart, and Google became my worst enemy.

I’d go on the Internet and type in my name, and all these blogs, fan sites, and random news stories would pop up. Most of them were flattering, but my eyes always seemed to wander toward the negative
ones. Trust me, there was some evil shit on there. People would call me dumb and I’d log on and type “Fuck you” in the comment box.

These people had something to say about everything. Even when I did something so minor as refuse to wear the bunny suit in an episode when we were meeting the troops, fans gave me a really hard time. I wanted to greet the soldiers as me, Kendra Wilkinson, not as some girl dressed like a rabbit. My grandfather taught me to respect our troops, and it seemed more respectful to meet them in normal-looking clothes. But people all over the Internet disagreed. They knew I was anti-bunny and saw it as a slap in the face to Hef and the
Playboy
brand.

I knew in my heart that I was right to stand up for myself, but it started to seem like I just couldn’t win. No matter what I did, someone on some Web site had something to say about it. I became really critical of myself and started to dislike how I was being portrayed in the public eye. I blamed myself and was really unhappy.

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