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Authors: Rielle Hunter

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BOOK: What Really Happened
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When I read the indictment in 2011, I was shocked to see that Andrew had already received one hundred thousand dollars from Bunny Mellon by the second week of August 2007. One hundred thousand dollars! That is a lot of money for plane tickets! If Johnny really knew that Andrew was receiving that kind of money, why would he be concerned that I was going to run out of money? What I believe is this: Had Johnny known about the money that he had supposedly solicited for me, he would have said something to me about it. He would have wanted to make sure that I, his girlfriend and mother of his child, was getting the money—all of it.

I mean, really? Andrew the employee, who was already making a substantial salary from Johnny, gets eighty-four thousand dollars, and the unemployed girlfriend and mother of his child gets sixteen thousand dollars? Are you kidding me?

I flew to Las Vegas on August 21
st
for the night. We had room service, and I was so nauseated I couldn’t eat. I read in the indictment, almost four years later, that Andrew received another check the next day in the amount of one hundred thousand dollars, bringing the grand total to two hundred thousand dollars! I also remember Andrew offered to give me an additional one thousand dollars that month, which I thought was very nice of him. I was very grateful for his gift of six thousand dollars that month instead of five thousand dollars.

Believing Andrew was a very stupid, stupid thing to do. I shouldn’t be too hard on myself, though, because I’m in very good company. Johnny, Bunny, Fred, the media, the US government, and most of America have also taken a little boat ride on this same ship of stupidity. The only one person (that I know of) who actually saw this correctly was Elizabeth.

So let’s see: the grand totals we have are staffer, $178,000; girlfriend and mother of his child, twenty-two thousand dollars!

In late August I flew to Orlando, Florida, for one night and then to the Westin Diplomat in Hollywood. In Orlando, Johnny stayed at some weird place that had front and back sections with fifteen or more buildings in each section. It took me a comically long time to find him, and when we found each other, our mutual reaction upon sight was
explosive
. I still remember being surprised about that.

As usual, we had a great night. At one point he said to me very playfully and lovingly, “You are going to keep this baby, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Well,” he said, “I am just going to accept it then.”

I smiled. “Yes, you are.”

I left long after he did and flew to Miami. This was the first and only time that Andrew reserved a room in his own name for me, in the same hotel that Johnny was going to stay in, which enabled me to have my own room. I put on my bathing suit and went out to the beach café for lunch.

There was a full moon that night, August 28
th
. Johnny and I sat out on his balcony looking at the moon over the ocean for a long time. He had just been with President Carter, his wife, Rosalynn, and Elizabeth.

Johnny came to New York the first week of September, and, of course, we stayed at the Regency.

I began feeling that I needed to move out of New Jersey. I needed to find a remote place to live and have my baby in peace. But I also wanted to be somewhat close to Johnny. I wanted my baby to grow up near his or her father. I began searching the Internet for places to rent in North Carolina and began talking to Andrew about what it was like to live there. Andrew had sold his house and was moving into a huge rental house while he and his wife built their dream home. He said repeatedly how huge and nice their rental house was and that I should just come down and stay with them. I replied, “I may take you up on that.”

When I mentioned to Johnny that I was thinking of moving to North Carolina, he had one response, which he never deviated from: “That is a
bad idea
.”

Darman called to tell me that Sam Stein from
The
Huffington Post
contacted him, claiming he was looking into my webisodes and asked for my contact information. Darman said he refused and immediately called me to tell me. Darman was naturally skeptical about Stein’s claims given that it was September 2007 and the webisodes were long gone. I thanked Darman for not giving out my information and requested that he please continue to refuse to give it to anyone.

I had a doctor’s appointment on September 17
th
, the one where I finally got to find out whether my baby was a girl or a boy. Even though the last ultrasound looked like a girl to me, I really thought the baby was a boy, given how strong-willed the baby seemed. I was blown away when the doctor told me, “It’s a girl.”

I would never have guessed what my reaction would be.

I went to my car and cried. The reality of it, the shock of it being different than I originally thought and now knowing was just overwhelming. When you’re pregnant, emotions really come out of nowhere and wash over you like a tidal wave. It’s an odd experience. I can’t even begin to express how grateful I am that I was blessed with a little girl—or how surprised I was at Johnny’s reaction when I told him later that night in Washington.

I had taken the train down. I did not know it then, but it was to be the last night we would spend together in its entirety for a long time.

He was in a great mood. If I remember correctly, he had just come from Teddy and Vicky Kennedy’s house. He was in a great mood anytime he was with them. Johnny would light up whenever he talked about Teddy.

“Guess what the baby is.”

“A boy.”

“Nope, a girl.”

“That is so
cool
!” He kissed me as he rubbed my belly. He was clearly very excited.

We had such a great night. I remember him kissing me goodbye in the morning and the passion involved. To think about it now, even after all these years, still makes me smile.

There was a big debate at Dartmouth College in New Hampshire on September 26
th
. Johnny told me that he and Elizabeth had had yet another huge fight before the debate and many people on the campaign were concerned their screaming would be heard because they were in a small hotel.

Also before the debate, Andrew sent me a link to a house, near the one he was renting in the Governors Club in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. He thought I might like it, and I did. It certainly looked nice, but I wasn’t really focused it because the debate was about to happen.

I watched the debate on TV from Jersey, and then, unbeknownst to me, at 11:34
P.M.
on September 26
th
, 2007, Stein posted his blog, and my entire life was about to change. Again.

FOURTEEN

Knock, Knock

“Today is your day! Your mountain is waiting. So . . . get on your way!”

D
R.
S
EUSS

T
HE NEXT MORNING, September 27
th
, I was on my way into New York City to have lunch with Glory. Mimi was driving when Andrew called to tell me that the Sam Stein piece about the missing webisodes was up. He read it to me over the phone.

I was wearing a dress that was the last piece of clothing I owned that successfully hid my pregnancy. I had been thinking about sharing the news of my pregnancy with Glory, but now, with the new issues that arose on the drive in, I didn’t mention it, nor could she tell.

At lunch, we talked a lot about the Stein piece.

Later that afternoon, after I was back in Jersey, Johnny called. I don’t know whether he was in between events or on his run time, but not surprisingly, Elizabeth had flipped out about
The
Huffington Post
piece and was screaming at everyone. Apparently what she was most freaked out about was that people would be able to see me in the webisode.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“Aren’t you in the piece? Isn’t there a version with you in them?”

“In the first version, seventeen billion cuts ago, but not the final cut that was online before Elizabeth had them removed.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Will you look at them and make sure?”

“Yes, I will look at them
again
, and tell you.”

“Okay, I gotta go. I’ll call you back.”

At around 4:30
P.M.
, I was sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace, about to view the webisodes on my computer again. It was after school, and Mimi’s boys were in and out. The outer door at Mimi’s house was wide open. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a guy in khaki pants and a light blue shirt walk past the window, heading for the front door. Mimi saw him from the other window in the family room and told me she immediately thought it was Sam Stein. He had recently emailed her a few times attempting to get information and copies of the webisodes. It never occurred to her that it had gone beyond
The
Huffington Post
.

She went to the door and the man with an English accent asked for me. Mimi told him I wasn’t there, although I was sitting about six feet from the front door. He gave her his card. She saw the
National Enquirer
logo on his card, and she promptly told him to get the fuck off her property and slammed the door in his face.

She turned to me as she walked into the kitchen and said, “Pack a bag. It’s time for you to go.
That
was the fucking
National Enquirer
!”

I walked upstairs and my phone rang again. It was Johnny calling me back about the webisodes. I told him that the
National Enquirer
had just been at the front door.

“Are they still there?”

“I don’t know. I am in Cole’s room right now and the windows face the rear of the house. I am going to pack a bag and get out of here.”

“Okay.”

“Okay, I gotta go.”

“Okay. I’ll call you.”

I called Andrew immediately. “The
National Enquirer
just knocked on the door. I gotta get out of here. I’m going to buy a ticket. I’ll call you back.”

I went upstairs and bought a roundtrip ticket to Raleigh-Durham International Airport, 8:30
P.M.
flight, returning in a couple of weeks

As I was on my computer, I saw an email from Pigeon O’Brien, the woman who had designed my website, and to whom I hadn’t spoken or been in any contact with since early Spring 2006. I read the message, which was very weird; she was writing as though we’d been in close contact for the last year, as if I had spoken to her the day before. To make things even weirder, it was sent at 4:18 in the afternoon, right around the time the
Enquirer
was knocking on my door.

Her email read: “Okay, so my nerves are on edge and I can only imagine yours. But I am sending good thoughts to you. I am a little baffled. . . . Call if you can.” (She gave her phone number.) “I hope you are well. I know that you are. Big smooches from here. Cats and dogs and fishes are all sending love. As do I.”

I knew instantly that Pigeon had something to do with the
National Enquirer
, but I couldn’t focus on that because I needed to get the hell out of Dodge. I packed one bag—my red suitcase with wheels that I used when I worked for Johnny. It was easy to pack given my clothing options were limited to the few new pregnancy clothes I had purchased. I packed them and my toiletries.

I did not pack my computer or any personal contents from my room, including my hatbox where I kept my prized possessions. I was the target, and my mission was now to keep my daughter hidden.

I called Andrew and told him what flight I was on. He told me he would pick me up. I changed my clothes, put on my new pregnancy jeans and a black T-shirt, and threw on a black three-quarter-length cotton coat. I kissed and hugged my godsons, Jack and Cole, goodbye. After fully scouting the area for any lurking
Enquirer
reporters, Mimi pulled the car around the back and put my suitcase in the car. I went down the back stairs, got in the car, and crouched down to remain out of view until we were well away from the house.

Andrew picked me up from the airport in his brand-new, souped-up silver Jeep—the tires were the size of tractor wheels. I guess because he wasn’t driving for the senator anymore he traded in his Suburban for something a little flashier. Apparently shock absorbers don’t come with these mammoth-wheeled machines, either. To make matters worse, Andrew had yet to master how to keep the top securely fastened, and it threatened to blow off while we were driving. I would have found the whole thing really funny had I not been five months pregnant, able to feel every bump in the road, and close to vomiting the entire ride. Johnny called during our ride and asked, “Are you okay?”

BOOK: What Really Happened
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