Memoir excerpt describing Jeffrey's private jet travel, Manhattan mansion, and alleged ties to Les Wexner and the Dalai Lama

he’d take care of it for me. We said our good-byes outside in the driveway, Jeffrey even coming outside to meet with my father to shake his hands and assure him that his daughter will be more than looked after. I hugged my dad tightly, feeling like I was on the verge of a steep cliff, when he let go, so did the last of my innocence. Juan drove Jeffrey, Ghislane and I to Palm Beaches’ Private Airport and the luggage handlers escorted us on the tar mat where we all boarded on Jaffrey’s black jet. Larry was his main pilot, he had shiny grey hair and long lanky legs, but a very sincere smile that instantly made you feel at ease. He greeted us at the staircase that led into the main cabin. It was as lavish as [| imagined it would be. The seats were enveloped in the finest beige leather with polished wood grain finishes and there was a kitchen in the back with an adjoining toilet. Jeffrey saw the amazement in my eyes and to make it more thrilling he brought me up to the cockpit and let me watch with a bird’s eye view of the take off. I was on a natural high when I came back to the cabin and was instantly brought back down when Jeffrey rested his bare feet on top of the reclined seat and instructed me to get to work and start massaging him. My future was in his hands now, so when he wanted something, | wouldn’t hesitate in giving it to him. Chapter 6 Upon our arrival at New Jersey’s Private Airstrip, the driver Jo-Jo met us. His name was most likely shortened for something of his oriental decent. Jeffrey liked to shorten the names of his multi-cultural staff into American names. Even Juan and Maria were known as John and Mary. We arrived in the Upper East Side of Manhattan. His principal place of residence was the largest home in Manhattan, eight stories of opulence. It used to be a Private School for boy’s many years ago, until Les Wexner, Jeffrey’s best friend and mentor bought it for him as a mysterious gift. There were two large Chinese gargoyles outside the entrance, and beside the heavy looking wooden doors there was an intercom with a camera overlooking us. 1 walked up the concrete steps into a realm of wealth, glamour and most of all influence. My eye’s glistened at the splendor of his palace. Caramel colored marble tiles spread through the first floor, where his gourmet kitchen and dining hall were also located. Then I came to this sweeping staircase that curved into the next level where Jeffrey and I went into his office, even though it looked more like a museum exhibit. Ancient draperies that told lascivious stories of their own covered parts of the elevated walls, and the remaining wall spaces were taken up by rows on top of rows of books. He loved to read, as he 35 often found it hard to sleep and was comforted in the early morning hours with his literature, or sometimes in other ways I would come to find out. There was a mantle piece and a sofa with two armchairs next to the grand piano that flaunted more of Jeffrey’s beautiful conquests, young women posing in salacious pictures, suggesting I could be easily replaced next to one of those girls if] failed in keeping him satisfied. There were also some pictures with recognizable political and royal figures either shaking Jeffrey’s hand, or with an arm around each other, even one with Jeffrey and the Dali Lama, although his church was the bank. He liked to use his power, wealth, and money to manipulate everyone in his life. He made a phone call that sounded business like and I didn’t mind, I was quite enjoying taking in all of the beauty around me, I was blinded by all of it. I was still waiting for him when, Ghislane came in. She asked me what I thought so far of my trip to N.Y.C, | knew she was talking about the house, she loved to gloat, even though none of it actually belonged to her, she wanted everyone to believe that it did. I complimented her on the mid-evil looking tapestries and a few other adornments, when she cut me off mid-sentence to compliment it herself, telling me the history about one of the 17" century tapestry’s which to an unsophisticated eye, looked to me like a rug on the wall. Jeffrey hung the phone up and walked over to the sofa where we were sitting next to the mantle piece and took a seat on one of the armchairs. He didn’t seem worried from the phone call but his mind was definitely somewhere else from the hard look on his face. We all spoke for a few moments more about the splendid décor before Jeffrey had enough small talk and needed some of his own relaxation time. He told Ghislane he was going to show me to the massage room and he’d be back in a couple hours. She agreed he looked like he could use some time to unwind and with that wry grin of hers, she gave me a look that told me precisely how he was expecting to be relaxed. We left his office all together, Ghislane going downstairs, and Jeffrey showing me to the lifts. The lift looked like it’s original that came with the school. It was made out of brass antique with archaic cuts throughout the arches at the top. It wasn’t the only lift in the house, but certainly the most beautiful. We walked down a long hall carpeted in a royal red and golden trim, passing by a bronze pagan statue of the horny little goat God “Pan’. How adequate, I thought, fit Jeffrey to a tee. We walked into this dimly lit room. Another daunting chamber that looked like we had stepped back in time to the dark ages. It took a second for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, and Jeffrey beckoned me to follow him through the room to the open adjoin shower, toilet and steam room. The room was in black marble to accent the dreariness, and smaller than the one in Palm 36 [ Copyright Protected Material 0 Copyright Protected Material CONFIDENTIAL GIUFFRE004 168 CONFIDENTIAL GIUFFREO04169 HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_021162