Down the Rabbit Hole - Holly Madison
CHAPTER 11 “Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.” —Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking-Glass Thank you,” Hef screamed so loud that my cell phone shook, “for giving me the WORST night of my life.” Oh shit, I thought. WE LANDED IN LAS Vegas early the previous morning for Jessica’s Playmate shoot. I thought the Playboy Club at the Palms could be a playful backdrop consistent with the 55th Anniversary theme. Knowing that the shoot would pull me out of Los Angeles for a day didn’t hurt, either. Jessica’s shoot was scheduled over two days, and of course, per the curfew, I had planned on flying back and forth each day. Obviously, this would have been exhaustingly impractical, and given the state of mind I was in, I decided to just take a chance and try and stay over. I really needed the time to myself. “I really should stay overnight,” I told Hef. “It doesn’t make sense for me to fly all the way home, get only a few hours of sleep, then turn right back around and fly to Vegas the next morning.” Given that my last attempt at spending an unchaperoned night away from the mansion—for Tiffany Fallon’s wedding—hadn’t gone over so well, I thought I was in for an uphill battle. “Okay, darlin’,” Hef said casually—as casually as a normal boyfriend should respond to such an innocent request. “I’ll miss you.” My shoulders melted away from my ears. Sweet relief. “I’ll miss you too!” I replied. A night alone! I thought, realizing I hadn’t had a night truly to myself since I moved into the mansion seven years earlier. After a full day on set, I was exhausted but still exhilarated at the idea of spending some time by myself in Las Vegas without the watchful mansion eye hovering over me. I was pleasantly surprised with how easy the conversation went—especially given the recent tensions between us—but Hef had an extremely selective memory. I guess the verbal beating he gave me was just another forgettable moment for him. I desperately needed to get out that night and experience life as a normal 20-something before deciding if I was going to go back to Hef and settle down or break it off for good. I was like a
achelorette looking for her last hurrah or an Amish kid going out for Rumspringa. The only problem was, I didn’t have anyone to hang out with. Jessica and the photo staff were wiped out from the day’s shoot and all went to bed early. But more importantly, to make this night really matter, I needed to get away from Playboy people. The only friend I had in Las Vegas was Angel, but she was newly pregnant, so she was hardly up for a wild night on the town. I guess I could text Criss, I thought. It was a dangerous option, but a tempting one. Las Vegas magician Criss Angel had been jumping onto my radar for a while at that point. Bridget, Kendra, and I had been guest judges on a reality competition series he had been featured on. We met briefly backstage and he tossed some awkward pickup lines my way. Because I was one of Hugh Hefner’s girlfriends, guys didn’t usually have the gall to hit on me that blatantly, so I found his fumbled attempts strangely endearing, like a teenage boy tripping over his own feet. I remember thinking he was attractive—his style was reminiscent of the hair rockers from the ’80s that I thought were cute when I was a kid. He kind of looked like a poor man’s Tommy Lee. I didn’t really think twice about his flirting until after the taping when Criss’s people contacted the Playboy publicity office to invite Bridget, Kendra, and me out to a club in Los Angeles. He was a notorious publicity-fueled womanizer (an A-list actress, a former child star, a famous heiress, and a post-mental breakdown pop princess were among his many conquests). “No way!” I laughed into the phone line when Sally from publicity called me. “Is he crazy? We’re Hef’s girlfriends!” “I know,” Sally giggled. “I just had to let you know.” I wasn’t entirely sure which one of us he was after, but I couldn’t help but be flattered. He knew our position at the mansion and wanted to take the chance anyway. Not long after our initial meeting, we were invited to be guests on yet another Criss Angel television series, Mindfreak. Unlike the talent competition series, Mindfreak centered on Criss’s day-to-day life as a street magician. Bridget and I accepted the offer and flew to Las Vegas for the day with a representative from Playboy PR (aka a chaperone). It was fun watching him on set. Unlike us, he had a say in what went on in front of cameras, as well as a producer role, which I found fascinating. Despite his mysterious on-camera persona, behind the scenes he was an easygoing jokester. In between setups, he invited us to join him and his usual entourage at his resident suite at the Luxor hotel (his friends referred to it as “the compound” behind his back). I was charmed by the things that littered his suite: video games, a foosball table, and an intricate model train set. I wasn’t so charmed by the cheap plastic dry-erase board stuck to the back of his front door with the words “Britney was here! Spears” sprawled across the center in a drunken out-oforder scrawl. We get it, I thought, laughing to myself. You banged Britney Spears. It was all sort of obnoxious, but truth? It made me like him even more. I was so conditioned to the geriatric way of life at the mansion that Criss’s boyish hobbies seemed so different and refreshing to me. Though I had more in common with Hef, I was so oversaturated with his life and style at that point that I probably would have found any hobby besides dominoes attractive. We shot our final scene at LAX nightclub inside the Luxor. Bridget and I were escorted to a
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CHAPTER 11<br />
“Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before<br />
breakfast.”<br />
—Lewis Carroll, Through <strong>the</strong> Looking-Glass<br />
Thank you,” Hef screamed so loud that my cell phone shook, “for giving me <strong>the</strong> WORST night of my<br />
life.”<br />
Oh shit, I thought.<br />
WE LANDED IN LAS Vegas early <strong>the</strong> previous morning for Jessica’s Playmate shoot. I thought <strong>the</strong><br />
Playboy Club at <strong>the</strong> Palms could be a playful backdrop consistent with <strong>the</strong> 55th Anniversary <strong>the</strong>me.<br />
Knowing that <strong>the</strong> shoot would pull me out of Los Angeles for a day didn’t hurt, ei<strong>the</strong>r. Jessica’s shoot<br />
was scheduled over two days, and of course, per <strong>the</strong> curfew, I had planned on flying back and forth<br />
each day. Obviously, this would have been exhaustingly impractical, and given <strong>the</strong> state of mind I was<br />
in, I decided to just take a chance and try and stay over. I really needed <strong>the</strong> time to myself.<br />
“I really should stay overnight,” I told Hef. “It doesn’t make sense for me to fly all <strong>the</strong> way<br />
home, get only a few hours of sleep, <strong>the</strong>n turn right back around and fly to Vegas <strong>the</strong> next morning.”<br />
Given that my last attempt at spending an unchaperoned night away from <strong>the</strong> mansion—for<br />
Tiffany Fallon’s wedding—hadn’t gone over so well, I thought I was in for an uphill battle.<br />
“Okay, darlin’,” Hef said casually—as casually as a normal boyfriend should respond to such<br />
an innocent request. “I’ll miss you.”<br />
My shoulders melted away from my ears. Sweet relief.<br />
“I’ll miss you too!” I replied.<br />
A night alone! I thought, realizing I hadn’t had a night truly to myself since I moved into <strong>the</strong><br />
mansion seven years earlier. After a full day on set, I was exhausted but still exhilarated at <strong>the</strong> idea of<br />
spending some time by myself in Las Vegas without <strong>the</strong> watchful mansion eye hovering over me. I<br />
was pleasantly surprised with how easy <strong>the</strong> conversation went—especially given <strong>the</strong> recent tensions<br />
between us—but Hef had an extremely selective memory. I guess <strong>the</strong> verbal beating he gave me was<br />
just ano<strong>the</strong>r forgettable moment for him.<br />
I desperately needed to get out that night and experience life as a normal 20-something before<br />
deciding if I was going to go back to Hef and settle down or break it off for good. I was like a
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