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  If you had told me then that a year and a half later I would be a member of Hef ’s “party posse” and live at his Mansion, I would have laughed. But more importantly, I would have been insulted. It was 2000, and I had just started my second year at Pepperdine. To kick off the new semester, my friends and I went to the hot club of the moment—the Sunset Room in Hollywood. I had met one of the owners, Chris Breed, a good-looking Brit who was always welcoming and gracious toward me and my friends. Sunset Room consisted of an elegant restaurant as well as a nightclub, with a large dance floor surrounded by private tables and a bar. In the back, by a beautiful saltwater aquarium, was the passageway to the VIP section. That section included about five cushy booths and another bar, as well as an outdoor section (for the smokers) with another five covered cabanas. I had casually chatted with several celebrities there in the past: Ben Affleck, Matt Damon, and Leonardo DiCaprio. You never knew who you would run into. As we made our way to the VIP room, we noticed Hugh Hefner sitting at a booth with a platinum blonde on either side of him and another older man. Despite the fact that I grew up in Communist Poland and various parts of Canada, I knew who Hugh Hefner was. First, because of his association with Canadian Pamela Anderson—she became famous by being a Playboy Playmate. Secondly, since I moved to L.A., I saw Hef and his troupe of gorgeous blondes frequently featured on TV. My friend Vivian wanted to go say hello, but I was a bit hesitant. I could see all these girls going up to Hef, and I found it more than a little embarrassing. I was intrigued by Hef and attracted to him in a way that I did not understand. What would I say to him? I guess I could tell him I almost interned at Playboy. I didn’t realize then that Hef worked from home and never went to the Playboy offices. When Vivian announced she was going to speak with him, I reluctantly went with her.

  The older man sitting with Hef made small talk with us and invited us to sit in the booth. This was Doc—Dr. Mark Saginor, otherwise known in Hollywood as “Dr. Feelgood,” Hef’s personal physician and one of his closest friends. Later, we would learn that Doc also treats the girls in Hef’s posse for their assorted medical needs. Hef was very polite and very sweet. He looked at us with a warm smile, making us feel welcome at his table. He was relaxed, drinking his Jack and Coke, with Buffy Tyler and Katie Lohmann sitting at his side, doting on him. He was wearing a black suit and a pink shirt with a white collar and cuffs. I was fascinated with him and the girls. A million questions ran through my mind as I sat there observing them: Were these girls just props? Did they sleep with him? What was their life like? Did he love them? I wanted to talk to the girls, but they seemed in a world of their own. After a couple of drinks, Doc asked us for our phone numbers and invited us to a “Fun in the Sun” party at the Playboy Mansion the following Sunday afternoon. We had no idea what that meant exactly, but we reasoned that if any fun was going to be held in the sun, then it couldn’t be too bad.

  When I woke up the next day, I remembered the invite to the Mansion and I was nervously excited. The very first time I came to Los Angeles to visit Pepperdine School of Law, my ex-boyfriend Sean and I were driving down Sunset Boulevard when we noticed a Star Maps sign at the corner of the street. We decided to pull over and buy a map for fun. The street corner happened to be Charing Cross Road, and the man selling the map informed us that the Playboy Mansion was just down the street. We had to drive by it. We stopped and took a quick glance at the gates. I wondered what was going on inside, imagining all sort of debauchery. Sean suggested that I walk up to the gate and see if they would let me in to see Hef. “No way, that’s embarrassing. Plus I am not sure I want to see what’s inside,” I said. My only contact with Playboy magazine was when Sean and I were driving from college in Montreal to my parent’s house in Kitchener, and out of boredom and curiosity I picked up a Playboy at the gas station. It was the fortieth anniversary issue and it contained the one hundred stars of the century. I was simply curious about their choices. Sean had always told me I should be a Playmate. Even when I was at McGill, guys used to call me Pam Anderson’s little sister, which was silly because we look nothing alike, but the Pam phenomenon was so big in Canada that any girl with blonde hair and boobs was always compared to her.

  That Sunday, as Vivian and I drove to the famous 10236 Charing Cross Road address (guaranteed to be on any quality Star Map), we had no idea what to expect. As we approached the gate, a voice coming out of a huge rock asked us who we were and confirmed we were on the list of invitees. As the gates opened and we drove up the winding road, the bright yellow “Caution: Playmates at Play” sign welcoming us, we were guided through the main door of the house into the backyard. There we were greeted by nothing short of paradise: a sprawling green lawn with free-range exotic birds, a pond with ducks, a beautiful pool with a waterfall and nature’s truest bounty—sexy girls frolicking in the sun, talking, swimming, playing volleyball. I didn’t see anything too crazy; I had imagined I might see naked people prancing around or making out in the deep dark corners of the Mansion, but it was not like that at all. It was surprisingly civilized and tame. At one corner of the pool, Hef sat playing backgammon with two friends, one of whom was Doc. We went over to say hello. As we were walking away, I recognized his Girlfriend and Playmate Buffy Tyler and sat down to speak with her. I thought she was very cool and friendly. I asked her if she lived at the Mansion, and she told me that she and Katie Lohmann shared a room. I asked what it was like, and she told me she was having a lot of fun. I had many more questions, but I didn’t want to drill her; I thought she was nice enough to answer any of the questions in the first place.

  As Vivian and I stood there taking in the surroundings, we were approached by Jenny—the lady who is in charge of Mansion party invitations—and she took down our information and then took our photos. We got some towels and lay out on the lawn, close to the pool. We just observed these fascinating new surroundings. We also kept visiting the bar, where the bartenders made fresh fruit smoothies and you could order food from the menu du jour. When at the bar, I noticed one of Hef’s Girlfriends surrounded by a group of wanna-be Girlfriends. I smiled at her, and she came over to tell me I was pretty. I was flattered by the unexpected comment. At that moment I would have never guessed, in a million years, that this girl and I would be roommates at the Mansion one day and have many adventures together. As evening approached, everyone was slowly leaving to change for dinner. Vivian wanted to stay for the dinner and movie, but I kept worrying about all of the homework that awaited me at home. I also did not want to create additional problems between Justin and I; he was already not too thrilled about my going to the Mansion, and I didn’t want to make things worse by staying there until late at night. Vivian and I ended up leaving before dinner. I had a good time that day, but I didn’t think I would go back to the Fun in the Sun for a long time; it wasn’t worth fighting over with Justin.

  This first experience was followed by invitations to all of the Mansion parties. Although I went and was fascinated by the whole Hef party posse scene, I kept my distance from him. Between schoolwork, my relationship with Justin, and going out with my friends, I had no time for anything else. After attending a couple of Mansion parties, I began receiving regular phone calls from Jenny at the Mansion inviting me to come back on Sundays for Fun in the Sun, which was a weekly thing. The problem was that Vivian was not invited to Fun in the Sun, though she was receiving the invites to other parties. I felt really bad about that and, although she constantly told me we should call them and see if we could go over, I never told her I was already invited to them. I was not going to go alone, and I certainly did not want to hurt my friend’s feelings, so I just ignored the whole thing. I was perfectly satisfied only attending the parties at the Playboy Mansion.

  As for school, I was finally able to take some international law courses and think about my eventual career in law. I began working for one of my professors, Professor Mendoza, assisting him in writing a book about international business transactions. I became efficient at doing resea
rch, learned a lot about writing a book, and was able to make some extra money to help pay my bills. He was a great professor, and I am grateful for the experience. However, I was coming to the gradual realization that I was not going to be able to carry out my dreams of becoming an international lawyer as originally planned. It was very likely that I would have to continue my studies with a master’s degree and potentially move back to the East Coast, where the international law curriculum was broader. It was probable that I would have to spend some additional years in academia, researching and writing before I actually got to handle the type of cases I was interested in. This was discouraging to me. I really wanted to go out into the world and have a break from studying, at least for a while. I did not know what other area of law I could practice. For the first time in my educational career, the future was not clearly laid out for me.

  After my second year, I felt very tired. Justin and I had been arguing a lot, and he would be spending the summer studying and taking the bar exam. I knew he would be more stressed out than ever, and I did not want to be around for that. I wanted to travel again, and it had been several years since I had been to Poland. But I could not waste a summer traveling frivolously, nor did I have any money to do so. I realized that if I could study in Poland, I could graduate a semester early, and I could get school loans to cover my trip. I found the ideal program via Catholic University, which would allow me to take international law courses in Krakow, Poland. It was a perfect opportunity to earn credits and spend time with my family. I had the fortune to study at Jagiellonian University, one of the oldest and most prestigious universities in Europe. It was founded by King Casimir the Great in 1364. Among its most famous alumni are Nicolas Copernicus and the late Pope John Paul II. And its law faculty is regarded as one of the finest in central Europe. It was incredibly inspiring.

  After class each day that summer, I went to quaint little cafés to do my homework and explored the city as much as I could. On the weekends the students were able to go on trips. We saw the Royal Salt Mine at Wieliczka, which is like a vast underground city. The historic salt mine is the only site in the world where mining has continued since the thirteenth century. It consists of nine levels going down to a depth of 358 yards and has 186 miles of galleries with works of art, altars, and statues sculpted in the salt, turning a trip down there into a fascinating pilgrimage into the past of a major industrial undertaking. Beneath the mine itself are numerous churches, chapels, and rooms for leisure activities. It is a fascinating underground world where everything is made out of salt; for example, the main cathedral has walls covered with salt sculptures of saints and scenes from the Bible, the altar is made of salt, even the chandeliers are made of salt. Sometimes the room is used for weddings. Wieliczka Salt Mine was entered into UNESCO’s first World List of Cultural and Natural Heritage in 1978. I was a little hesitant to go so far under the earth, but it was a fascinating one-of-a-kind experience.

  However, the most memorable trip I took that summer was to the Auschwitz-Birkenau concentration camp. Even though I had lived about thirty minutes from it for ten years of my life, I had never been there. It is not a place a child longs to visit. But now in adulthood, I was ready. Not only was it historically and culturally significant to me to visit this place, but it was also personal. It was painful to see the camp, and absolutely heartbreaking to know that my own grandfather had been there. It was such an overwhelming experience that I couldn’t find a place within myself to store what I saw and what I felt that day. I had nightmares for several days. I took pictures that day, though I don’t know why; I can’t bear to look at them. I suppose I needed to prove to myself that what I saw was real. I know I will have to go back one day, to share this experience with others. I think everyone should go there so that the horrors of the past will never be repeated. It’s a truly overwhelming look at one of history’s blackest eras.

  Justin called me several times that summer, and it was nice to hear his voice. Despite the fact that we were on a break and I did not know what the future held, I missed him. He was my best friend, and it was hard not to speak to him and share all of my experiences with him. I knew that no matter what happened when I got back to L.A., he would be a part of my life. I didn’t get involved with anyone that summer; I took the time to be by myself, explore Polish culture, reconnect with family, and figure out what I wanted to do next. Being in Poland on my own and having the time to think, I decided I was not ready to jump back into a relationship with him. There were many things that needed to be worked out first, and I wanted some alone time to establish a life that wasn’t so reliant on his presence. I came to L.A. to do so many things and I fell in love with him before I had the chance to enjoy the city on my own terms. Now was the time to start fresh. I also thought about Hef and the Mansion from time to time and decided I would go to Fun in the Sun again, now that I did not have the restraints of a relationship. I kept receiving invitations to Mansion parties while I was gone, and I looked forward to going to a party when I got back. That was about the extent of my plans in regard to Hef. I never imagined what the future would bring. I looked forward to being independent, but I drew a certain comfort from the fact that Justin was there for me. I knew that he would be close by, and like I always tell myself, if it is meant to be, it will be.

  4: Hanging with Hef .

  “I couldn’t help it. I can resist everything except temptation.”

  —Oscar Wilde

  I came back to Los Angeles refreshed and anxious to finish my last semester in law school. In September 2001, right at the beginning of the school year, my friend Niki came to visit me from Toronto. And just as I had done the year before, Niki, Justin and I went out to celebrate her trip and the last semester of my law school career. In a bizarre twist, what happened a year before repeated itself; I ran into Hef again. Not only once but twice that same week: on Wednesday at the Hollywood club Las Palmas (now LAX) and then on Friday at another club called Barfly. Was this fate? After a couple of drinks, I decided to go up and say hi to him. Justin and I became close when I returned that fall, but we did not get back into a relationship. I got my own apartment and he stayed over a lot; we were going to hang out and see where things went. That night, even Justin encouraged me to go say hi to Hef, and so I did. Hef seemed to remember me and was very happy to talk to me; he immediately invited me to come out with him and his girls the following Friday. The next day, I received a call from his assistant, Mary, who invited me to Barfly with Hef and his Girlfriends. After accepting, I was instructed to arrive at the Mansion at 10 p.m., and we would be departing around 10:30. I was still hesitant; I kept changing my mind until the moment I walked out of my door. What would I wear? Would the other girls be friendly? But in the end, my curiosity won out. And you know what they say about curiosity.

  That night, although I didn’t know it, I was being recruited. I had a couple of the Girlfriends come up to me and tell me how much fun they were having, how much money they made, and what a great opportunity it was to live at the Mansion. I was told that Hef was interested in me and that I should give it a chance. It sounded almost too good to be true. Then I was told about “the bedroom.” After the club, they all go and party in Hef ’s room. I didn’t have to “do” anything at all; it was just a lot of fun. An alarm went off in my brain. I definitely did not want to go to Hef ’s bedroom, fun or not.

  I didn’t know him. I don’t even kiss on the first date, let alone go to someone’s bedroom. And was this even a date?

  I got out of the limo in front of the Mansion, thanked Hef for the night, got into my car, and went home as fast I could. A few days later, the tragedy of Sept. 11, 2001, occurred. Like the rest of the country, I was devastated, stunned, and scared. To my surprise, I received a personal call from Hef, asking me to go out with them. I told him I couldn’t, considering what had just happened, and expressed mild disappointment that he would consider going out at a time like this. He seemed taken aback by my tone and mumbled something abo
ut how “life must go on.” I agreed that life must go on, but it was much too soon. Later I came to realize that rain, snow, blackout, or any other natural disaster—Hef would still want to go out. Why? So he could have an after-party in his room.

  After that, Hef kept on inviting me out and I went out with them several more times, but it was all very casual. Although I found Hef to be very nice and interesting and I always had a good time with him and the girls, I had no plans to get seriously involved with Hef. He invited me to be part of his group, an honor of sorts, at the Mansion’s annual Halloween party and even offered to pay for my costume and gave me a makeup and hair allowance. I received a check from one of Hef ’s assistants. I ended up going shopping with Holly, who was the new girl at the Mansion. It seemed to me that the other girls were not friendly with her and I wanted to befriend Holly. The party was great; it was so much fun being part of Hef ’s group. I was beginning to imagine myself as part of the party posse, but I disregarded such thoughts for two reasons: I was still in law school, and there was the bedroom issue. I heard from a model that had been hanging out with Hef for a few months that some of the girls had herpes, and it freaked me out. I never had any diseases, and I wanted to stay as far away from them as possible. After the party, I kept receiving calls from Mary; she is the one who calls to ask girls out on Hef ’s behalf. He rarely calls girls himself. Hef employs an elaborate system of procurement to keep the pipeline filled with willing nubile women. There’s a guy named Ron—short, with red hair and a beard—who is always out at clubs cruising for talent and trying to bring new girls into Hef ’s circle. The ones Hef isn’t interested in, Ron tries to date himself. I always see him with his Playboy Mansion notepad in hand to impress the girls and to appear legit, which cracks me up, but I like him; he’s a nice person. But Mary has been with Hef forever—she was the house manager at the Chicago Playboy Mansion and has worked for him for decades. It never ceased to amaze me that she would care so much to get Hef the girl that he wanted, that she tried so hard to make him happy and really cared about his sex life and how he was treated. She and Hef have a very special, interesting, peculiar relationship. In my opinion, it is she who runs the Mansion. And so she kept calling and inviting me to go out with Hef, but I always told her that it was my last semester in law school, and exams were around the corner, and I couldn’t go out right now, but I would when I was done. I guess I wanted to keep the option open.