Down the Rabbit Hole - Holly Madison

the phone. “We’re on a tight schedule and every day costs money.”
It turned out that the runaway bunny went hopping back to Orange County. According to some of
the crew and other girls staying at the house, Jessica had been tormented for days by the twins, along
with Playboy’s resident wild child Laura Croft. While Karissa and Kristina were surprisingly
professional on set, they were apparently quite a handful after hours. Supposedly the three girls
tormented Jessica: calling her names, smearing shaving cream on her bedroom door, and relentlessly
accusing her of sleeping with a GND crew member. While these antics would have made for great
TV, they were an example of the “negativity” Hef never wanted included in the final cut, so my efforts
to include some spice in the mix, by inviting the Shannon twins, were wasted.
“If you come back, you can stay in the mansion guesthouse away from the other girls,” I told her,
hoping this would quiet her frayed nerves. They’d done quite a number on the poor girl! After some
coaxing, I finally got Jessica to agree. I asked Hazel, the office administrator, to put Jessica on the
guest schedule in one of the four rooms in the mansion’s guesthouse. After sorting out that potential
disaster, I gave myself a well-deserved pat on the back.
Crisis averted, I thought.
When I arrived later that day to the Sunday night buffet, Hef was waiting for me in the dining
room with a rabid look in his eyes.
“What are you doing putting Jessica in the guesthouse?” he demanded, his voice quaking with
anger.
“She was having trouble with the other girls, so she left,” I calmly explained to him, hoping he
would recognize the volume of my voice and aim to match it. The dining room was filled with guests
and I didn’t want to get lambasted in front of an audience. “I needed her here for work first thing
tomorrow, so I put her in the guesthouse. I guess the twins were picking on her, so I thought this was
an easy fix.”
“That is not your decision,” Hef bellowed at me, with no intent to try to keep this argument
private. “Daddy’s in charge of who stays where! Not you!”
“But it’s such a minor thing I didn’t even think you would want to be bothered with it,” I said
truthfully. I’d invited girls to stay with us before and he never had a problem with it. I was completely
caught off guard and could feel the tears start to burn my eyes. I took a deep breath and held them back
with every ounce of dignity I had left. Trying desperately to keep my voice from shaking, I continued,
“You have more important things to worry about.”
“Well, this isn’t your decision,” he spat at me. By now everyone was staring at us. “Daddy
makes the rules.” When I didn’t respond, he turned to one of the guests and began jovial conversation
as if nothing had happened.
I looked down at my lap. I couldn’t bear to make eye contact with anyone—I felt so humiliated.
Despite his gentlemanly act, Hef had never been a progressive thinker when it came to women. I had
always told myself that maybe I could change his attitude if he truly got to know me. It didn’t look like
that was ever going to happen.
As we were getting ready for bed, Hef shuffled into my dressing area to inform me that our GND
shooting schedule for the next day had been postponed.