The Naked Truth: The Real Story Behind the Real Housewife of New Jersey--In Her Own Words by Danielle Staub

would eventually show up. Since I’d know he was there, I would dance closely to whomever I was with on purpose, or I would sit with a group of guys and focus all my attention on the one speaking to me. I would hang onhis every word so Billy could see what he was missing and how I’d moved on. It drove him crazy and I loved it because it was his turn to feel the way he had made me feel. It was his turn to hurt.
    I began to hang out with people Billy couldn’t keep up with—men who had more wealth and power than he could ever imagine existed. I was a newly single woman in Florida, and I was off to the races with a fast crowd.

5
LATINA NITES
    In 1985 the nightlife in Miami was hotter than the weather. I was living at a pace that was catapulting me up the social ranks. When I wasn’t working as a cocktail waitress, I’d spend my nights going to exclusive parties. I became a permanent fixture on the Miami club scene. I never had to wait in line to get into a club—ropes were parted for me and I was rushed inside like a celebrity straight to the VIP room.
    Once I was in, I found it was easy to meet people, especially celebrities. Having a relationship during that time in Miami— whether the person was a celebrity or not—wasn’t an easy go. If I simply hung out with a straight guy, we would be accused of messing around. (It was typically believed that you couldn’t have a platonic relationship with someone of the opposite sexunless you or the other person was gay. I think that’s complete bullshit. It may only rarely happen, but it
does
happen. I am living proof of it. I had and still have straight male friends who are really
just friends
—people I spend time with and have no romantic interest in.) In addition, after things ended with Billy, I didn’t even know how I was going to
like
men again, let alone trust them.
    I had to start all over again.
    Part of my way of starting over was meeting an acclaimed Olympian, which happened while I was working as a cocktail waitress at September’s. This Olympic legend came into the place quite often, and I served him, his publicist, and the rest of his entourage.
    After a few of the athlete’s visits, a friend of his phoned the owners of September’s because he was trying to get in touch with me. The manager was completely blown away that this guy was calling and asking about me and not one of the other waitresses. Other pretty girls who worked at September’s were considered the “it” girls—the waitresses whom everybody wanted to date and customers always inquired about. These typical Florida girls had perky, little, fit bodies, bright blue eyes, and long blond hair. There I was, looking quite the contrary, with curly brown hair, brown eyes, and a lean body. Unlike the rest of them, I wasn’t dripping in jewel-studded gifts from rich South Florida men.
    At first, the most exciting part was having people at work ask me about this Olympic athlete.
What was he like? Where
did he take you?
I wasn’t used to having people ask me anything about my private life or the guys I was seeing, so it was neat to have people suddenly care. I admit that the attention fed my ego. During my years with Billy, my life was more or less boring outside of work. I had small-town notions of settling down, and my friends were the people who knew me through Billy. In hindsight, I think they were moving a bit too slowly for me. All of a sudden I was in a much faster crowd and desired by men—powerful men.
    I ended up dating the Olympic athlete and we had some fun together. He was kind of a rebound guy who I think I was into mainly because it would upset Billy. After a few dates we did have sex, but the relationship didn’t have a big impact on me. He was a nice guy and a gentleman, but I wasn’t in love with him, so I decided not to see him again. That was that.
    My relationship with the star athlete helped me realize that I couldn’t have sex with another man unless I was in love with