She is a Virgo. Her grandfather was a Portuguese sailor. Her father split when she was two. Her mom worked three jobs. She loves big silver cowboy buckles and chewy red Swedish fish, three-inch Gucci stiletto heels and Lamborghini trucks. She hates being alone. She doesn’t kiss on the first date. She feels high highs and low lows, often in rapid succession. Sometimes she’ll push you away because she wants you to try again. She's been offered $30,000 for one night.
Brooke won her first beauty pageant at fourteen. She had her first boob job at nineteen. At twenty-two, she had a pocket of fat removed from just below the cheekbone on either side of her face. Once, in a mall in Tucson, where she grew up, a guy was so busy staring at her that he walked into a pole and knocked himself out. Once, crossing a street in Beverly Hills, she caused a four-car accident. Her likeness has smiled down upon Sunset Boulevard from a billboard. She's appeared on Star Search and Jenny Jones, in Sport magazine's swimsuit issue. She does a lot of catalogs for swimwear and lingerie and a television commercial now and then, most notably the stylish spots for Bally Total Fitness. An inventory of her catalog shots can be found on two unofficial Web sites posted by fans.
She makes a minimum of $1,500 a day for print work. She will not bare her nipples or her kitty for any price; she is not that kind of girl. She has no interest in becoming an actress; she is not that kind of girl, either.
She is cute as a button, pretty as a picture, eminently fuckable, totally unavailable. Barring one regrettable incident, she is a confirmed serial monogamist, a one-man woman.
Since the eighth grade, when the first love of her life deliberately flunked in order to stay behind in the same school with her, she has never gone more than a month without a boyfriend. Her current boyfriend drives a Mercedes V-12 convertible, a $120,000 car. She recently misplaced it in a shopping-mall parking lot. His name, Garth, is tattooed on her instep. He's forty, a plastic surgeon, one of the best in Beverly Hills, a blue-eyed graduate of Ole Miss known for his sweetness and good looks, for his pioneering techniques in scalp flaps and breast augmentations. On their fifth date, they went to Hawaii. They've been together every night since--nine months so far. The tattoo, in blue cursive letters, was a birthday gift. She knows it was risky, but it felt like the right thing to do. She calls it her public confession. Garth was flattered and pleased. One thing he loves about Brooke is her capacity for giving. The other day, for no particular reason, she bought him an alligator watchband from Cartier. His last girlfriend required a monthly stipend. Her price for cohabitation was a diamond ring. She never gave him anything but a hard time.
Her primary goals in life are marriage and motherhood. She's been engaged four times. She thinks it's probably better to marry someone who loves you more than you love him. No man she's ever been with has truly known how much she cared. She is ardent and enthusiastic, nurturing and sincere, spontaneous and insatiable. When she was young--a coltish, bucktoothed tomboy who gave up cheerleading to play football--she collected Matchbox cars, which she still keeps in their original carrying case, stashed inside a large antique hope chest, along with her old photo albums. Her first car was a cream-colored Porsche convertible. Her first night in Los Angeles was spent locked in a laundry room in a house in the Hollywood Hills, seeking refuge from an erstwhile acting teacher. She listens to Kool & the Gang, Mariah Carey, Kenny G, Shania Twain, Isaac Hayes. She likes tank tops and shorty shirts, cashmere and soft leather, baby-doll nightgowns and black garters, handbags by Chanel. She believes that men and women can be friends. Friends have given her clothes, diamonds, plane tickets, a Jaguar and a Jeep, three months in her own suite at the Ritz-Carlton. She's still friends with the Israeli mobster. He took his ring back with a shotgun. He is currently in prison. They correspond.
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