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

Author:Staub, Danielle [Staub, Danielle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gallery Books
Published: 2010-05-18T00:00:00+00:00

7

ONE STEP FORWARD, TEN STEPS BACK

It was time to take charge of my life, but my support system was weak. I had no contact with my father and barely spoke to my mother. I had no boyfriend, and all of my close friends were in Florida, a place where I could no longer stay. I had to leave everything I had known for the past seven years and start a new chapter of my life somewhere else. Probation was to last for the next five years; my goal was to complete my probation without incident and put this Miami phase of my life far behind me. It would be difficult, but I was up to the challenge when I considered the alternatives. At the time, moving to New Jersey with Kevin seemed to be a smart option. In fact, it was my only option.

Kevin constantly stayed in touch with me after we met at the club. Let’s put it this way: we were more than just friends. He was traveling back and forth to Florida and he made it a point to find me and see me when he was in town. He told me many more times that he loved me and promised over and over to keep me safe. After a stint in prison, having eight serious indictments against me, and receiving probation (by the skin of my teeth and the grace of God), that’s exactly what I needed to hear. Plus, Kevin had told me he was an FBI agent—a man of the law. Starting the next phase of my life with someone who could truly protect me seemed like the perfect fit.

When I finally told Kevin that I wanted to leave Florida and be with him after months of his trying to convince me, he was quite happy, to say the least. We drove all the way to the Garden State in his Porsche, and as soon as we arrived, Kevin put me up in a motel in Little Ferry, which is a blue-collar town just south of Hackensack. It was the kind of motel where you pay by the hour, not by the night, and it was riddled with hookers, drugs, and pimps. Used needles and empty plastic baggies containing drug residue were actually in the corner of my room when I checked in. I couldn’t bear to sleep in the bed—the pillows and bedspread were so full of stains that I wouldn’t even venture to sit on it. I unpacked some of my clothes and draped them over a chair, the only reasonably clean piece of furniture in the room. That was where I would sit during the day and sleep at night. The bathroom was no better—it was disgusting. I would put on sweatpants and a baseball hat pulled down low and go to a nearby diner to use the ladies’ room. Clearly, the motel was a far cry from the posh high-rise condo that I had just left in Coconut Grove. So much for Kevin keeping me safe, I thought.

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