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date Robert after doing that. I told Robert about my plan to break up with Anthony in Europe and come home by myself, and told him, yes, I would be his date to his big, important party.
    He immediately told everyone he knew that he had met a fabulous girl and she would be his date to his housewarming party. But once I was in Europe with Anthony, I couldn’t figure out how to get out of there. I had no backbone. I couldn’t figure out how to tell Anthony it was over and that I was going home on my own. Finally, the day of Robert’s party came, and instead of meeting him on the 5:00 p.m. plane from San Diego to Los Angeles as I had promised, I was still in Europe with Anthony. I didn’t even have the guts to call Robert and tell him I wasn’t coming.
    Robert was at the airport waiting for me, standing at the gate with two dozen red roses. He waited until every single person came off that plane before giving up on me. He turned around, walked to the trash can, and threw the roses away. He walked to his car alone and cried all the way home.
    At his party, he had to face all his friends who were expecting to meet this great new girl he had told them all about. I had made him look like a fool. He didn’t have a girlfriend, he didn’t have a date. This was his big, huge party, and I had blown him off.
    I was so young, and I had a lot to learn. When I called him the next day to say “I’m so, so sorry,” I could hear him crying on the other end of the line. “I just don’t know what to do.”
    Suddenly he turned angry. “You embarrassed me,” he said. “You made me look bad. When you finally figure this all out, give me a call.”
    Then he hung up.
    I returned from Europe with Anthony, still unable to figure out how to call things off. Fortunately, Anthony made it easy for me. His next tournament was in Pebble Beach. I went with him and took my parents, and after the tournament I left with my parents for a trip down the coast to the Hearst Castle. Anthony couldn’t come along, he said, because he had to get to the next city on the tour.
    When I got back to his house, though, I received a letter in the mail. Inside was a hotel receipt from Carmel showing that Anthony had stayed in Carmel four days longer than he had told me. Then a young woman started calling the house, looking for Anthony. She wanted to know who I was and why I was answering his phone. “Who the hell are
you
?” I asked. She told me she had spent four days with Anthony in Carmel, after which he left for his next golf tournament. Now she couldn’t find him. He wasn’t returning her phone calls. She was pissed, which was why she called me.
    I was
so
mad, but also glad. Now I had a backup plan. I had been too weak to break up with him. Now Anthony had made things easy for me. I packed my bags and put everything in my car, thinking,
I wasn’t raised to be a victim. I was raised to be a strong, confident girl who knows when it is time to fold ’em.
I waited until he came home, and when he walked through the door, I told him that we were done, and I told him why. He denied, denied, denied.
    “I really don’t care,” I said. “I’m out of here.”
    I went to my mother’s house and called Robert. “It’s over, I’m done,” I said.
    “Okay, if you’re done, then why don’t you come see me this weekend?”
    “Great. I’ll be there,” I said.
    I got dressed, got on a plane, and flew to L.A., where I rushedout of the airport to meet Robert Kardashian for our first legitimate date. Sitting in a green Mercedes, waiting for me at the curb at the airport, were Robert and O.J. Simpson.
    “This is O.J., my best friend,” Robert told me, introducing me to the famous football player, while I’m thinking,
Oh my God. Oh my GOD!
We drove back to Robert’s house in Beverly Hills: Robert Kardashian, O.J. Simpson, and me.

CHAPTER THREE
     
    Flying High
     
    R obert and his brother, Tommy, had bought a beautiful house on Deep Canyon Drive in Beverly