“It was a nice change for me to come work for Kirk,” Baldwin says. “I never really socialized with Steve. He and Don Trump—they’re all alike. The only time they pay attention to you is if they need you. That’s when they close the door and say, ‘How do we get out of this mess?’ But at dinner with six other people, you’d get more attention if you were the waiter.
“Kirk is the most humble person you’ll ever meet,” Baldwin says. “He’s not going to grab the wheel just because of a little bump in the road.”
Wynn’s dolphin getaway suite at the Mirage was taken over by the staff. “Once he was gone, everybody just squatted on the real estate to make it useful for them,” says one employee there. Tanks of exotic fish were removed from the back room. The photographs of Wynn swimming with the dolphins were taken down. One keepsake remained, dusty and leaning against a cabinet on the floor: the original three-dimensional model used to build the dolphin habitat, entitled “Steve Wynn’s Mirage Hotel dolphin habitat.”
Wynn continued to visit the dolphins. He raced over to be present when a baby dolphin was born. And when Bandit died at the age of forty, Wynn called one of the dolphin handlers and asked what had happened. “Are they getting what they need?” he asked.
Lanni opened the Shadow Creek Golf Course to the public, removing the screen of mystery that had surrounded the place and turning it into a cash generator. About a year after the takeover, Golf Digest’s golf-course architectural critic, Ron Whitten, wrote a column saying it was worth $500 to play the course, which he called “one of a kind, and arguably Tom Fazio’s finest work ever.”
Whitten took time to sympathize with what he imagined to be Wynn’s feelings about losing Shadow Creek. “When his Mirage Hotel empire was swallowed up by a hostile takeover by MGM Grand last year, Steve Wynn also lost Shadow Creek. I can’t imagine his frustration. He had created a vision (one that’s achieved critical acclaim: Shadow Creek ranks 20th on Golf Digest’s ranking of America’s 100 Greatest) and then had it taken away from him.… We’re entitled to just one dream course per lifetime, I guess.”
Wynn despised the sympathy.
He began hinting that he had encouraged Kerkorian to make a bid for the company—something dismissed by Jim Murren and others involved.
“I was bored,” Wynn would say. He struggled with being viewed as the former King of Vegas. “The King of Vegas, I never liked. It was like saying, ‘You’re done,’” he said. “I like being the youngest guy. Everybody said, ‘You can’t make it.’ It was fun like that.”
It was Elaine Wynn who voiced the emotions of the forced sale. She called it “character-building” and said, “Steve was sad. It’s made me realize that nothing is forever. You have to know that every day, something can happen to change your life. It’s like 9/11.”
She conceded though, that she and her husband had fallen into a rut at Mirage Resorts. “There were days that I would just go home and read, because I didn’t want to entertain people one more time or show people the art gallery one more time. If we were still at Bellagio, I’d still be planning parties. We’re starting over—from a higher plateau, of course.… Complacency is the biggest threat when you’re running something that successful.”
Wynn managed to bury a few surprises in his deal with Kerkorian. The agreement gave Wynn the right to buy back the Gulfstream III aircraft and the New York City apartment on Fifth Avenue. MGM executives universally thought the $7-million price for the lavish Manhattan apartment vastly undervalued it, despite an official appraisal.
MGM, meanwhile, was required to buy in cash, payable in a lump sum within thirty days following the date of Wynn’s request, the Wynns’ house at Shadow Creek, including the furnishings, artwork, and personal effects at the Wynns’ cost.
This appeared to have slipped past the attorneys in their haste to close the deal quickly. In effect, the Wynns had been licensed to spend anything they wanted, including hundreds of millions on art, and to be reimbursed. “I could buy the Getty Museum and make MGM buy it,” Wynn said later with a grin. After a personal plea from Terry Lanni, Wynn agreed to drop “art” from the agreement.
The MGM team learned that Mirage Resorts had a spectacular medical plan for several top executives that required the company to pay for “surgical procedures of an elective nature for the purpose of altering body design.”
Since the plan continued for several years after the sale of Mirage Resorts, MGM was responsible for the Wynns’ and other Mirage executives’ health care, including cosmetic surgery, liposuction, and hair plugs, even if Wynn was running another company. Also covered were travel expenses and hotel stays before and after the treatments as well as private-duty nurses.
Terry Lanni soon discovered Steve Wynn’s charitable pledge of $10 million to the University of Pennsylvania to build “Wynn Commons.” Mirage Resorts had already paid out $6 million on the pledge. Gary Jacobs, Kerkorian’s lawyer and MGM Mirage’s new general counsel, feared the university might sue the company for breaching the promise in the middle of its budget year. So Jacobs approved the payment of another $600,000 to round out the year’s contribution. Jacobs received an acknowledgment that rankled him: The school thanked the company for its donation “on behalf” of Steve Wynn.
In July of 2000, Jacobs sent the university a letter saying they weren’t going to pay any more money to the University of Pennsylvania.
“You can get sued for refusing to fulfill a charitable commitment, but I felt very comfortable about canceling that one,” Lanni says.
Lanni and Murren had promised Kerkorian at least $75 million in cost savings in Mirage. As they drilled into the company over the coming year, they found a bit more: $175 million, on an annualized basis, Murren says. The deal was a sleeper. They went to work selling off Steve Wynn’s toys and artifacts of the Mirage era: artwork, airplanes, homes, and land around Shadow Creek. They saved $18 million a year in interest expenses on the art debt alone. “It was the deal of a lifetime,” says Yemenidjian.
Life at Shadow Creek became difficult for the Wynns.
“It was a little awkward,” Elaine Wynn said in late 2005. “It was more awkward for Steve than it was for me. Going to the club, it was their customers. The employees were kind, gracious.”
Instead of sparking high-end development, as Wynn had been betting, Shadow Creek was being surrounded by tract homes selling for only $99,000 to $300,000.
The Wynns and MGM Mirage continued a debate about acquiring the Shadow Creek house for several years. The Wynns didn’t consider selling it on the open market. “No one was going to give up the price that we put into it, in North Las Vegas,” Elaine Wynn said.
It rankled Lanni, Murren, and Jacobs to have to pay the full cost rather than the depreciated value for the Wynns’ used household goods. They even ended up buying the old kitchen garbage disposal for its original cost, according to Atlandia’s detailed purchasing records: $287.04.
Among the more than $3 million in furnishings and equipment that MGM bought at the Wynns’ cost were:
Custom-dried floral arrangement in the kitchen $395.84
Rectangular soap dish caddy $18.56
Wall-mount hand shower—her bath $975.40
Showerhead—her bath $1,481.70
Whirlpool tub—her bath $11,506.51
Three sets of valences—her suite $4,125.30
Two whirlpool tubs—guest baths $5,581.32 each
Eyeglass holders—master suite $40.44
King-size bedspread—master suite $1,961.67
Throw pillow—library sofa $339.85
Assorted antique books—library $2,407.23
Fifty-eight imitation library books—library $1,340.10
One set faux books—library $205.84
Two decorative frogs—library $766.09
Jacobs asked for clarification on the $10,000 cost listed for an early and outmoded plasma screen television. The television had been a gift of no cost to the Wynns, and the price of such televisions had falle
n dramatically.
Wynn argued for every penny. In a letter dated June 6, 2003, Wynn said, “While the Employment Agreement speaks to the ‘cost’ of the furnishings, the intent was for the purchaser to pay the value of what was invested in the home, measured on a cost, as opposed to fair market value basis. That the television set in question happened to have been a gift should not change the analysis, as it would result in me having to choose to either take the television with me or unjustly enrich the purchaser.”
Calling Wynn’s insistence “tacky,” MGM Mirage executives agreed to buy the overpriced TV.
The dialogue continued until the following May, when the MGM Mirage group decided to draw the line at buying the Wynns’ “Great Books” library—a gift of Stewart and Lynda Resnick, chairman and vice-chairwoman of the privately held Franklin Mint. Jacobs claimed the books fell into the excluded category of art.
Jacobs wrote a May 4, 2004, letter that dripped with sarcasm:
Dear Steve,
We discussed internally whether or not we would have an interest in acquiring your “great books” library, which were given to you by the Resnicks.
I am sure they function beautifully in the house as works of art (I collect rare books myself, with a focus on Dickens and Twain, so I know how satisfying this can be). However, we will pass on them—I am sure they will find a beautiful place in your new home.
Best regards.
Finally, in a letter dated Dec. 8, 2004, Wynn notified Jacobs that he and Elaine were ready to move. The price, Wynn wrote, “should be $17,329,248.12, plus any items that were inadvertently omitted on the last schedule that was sent to you, such as the patio cover that was custom made for entertaining outdoors on the grounds of the home. I will send you an updated schedule of costs shortly.”
Chapter Eighteen
DUPED
It’s all over money. All over money when it’s got to be a meaningless commodity because he has so much of it.
—LAWYER FOR LISA BONDER KERKORIAN
Kira Rose Kerkorian was born on March 9, 1998, a few months before Bellagio opened. It is difficult to say what is most remarkable about this wide-eyed child’s origins. Her mother was thirty-three years old; her father eighty-two.
Kira’s parents were married the year following her birth on the inauspicious wedding date of Friday the 13th of August. They were divorced twenty-eight days later, per mutual agreement beforehand. Kerkorian hadn’t wanted to get married, but old-fashioned morals broke his resolve, friends say. He wanted to legitimize Kira, whom he loved.
The girl’s mother, the leggy former tennis pro named Lisa Bonder, who was at Kerkorian’s side when he opened the MGM Grand, asked for joint custody and thereafter kept his name. She continued living for a time in Kirk Kerkorian’s Beverly Hills mansion on a twenty-three-acre estate overlooking Benedict Canyon, where he occupied the guesthouse.
For quite some time, the baby’s mere existence was enough for gossips and newshounds. It was just another sign of Kerkorian’s remarkable genes, several of his friends said.
Kirk Kerkorian’s first marriage had lasted for ten years and his second had lasted twenty-nine. He met Lisa Bonder Kreiss in 1986—two years before she quit the pro tennis tour, while she was still married to Los Angeles businessman Thomas Kreiss. Kerkorian began seeing Bonder Kreiss romantically in 1991, according to legal documents, after the failure of her first marriage, which produced a son, Taylor. Bonder and Kerkorian eventually lived together, and she was his companion for several years until they split in 1995. They had a week-long reconciliation in 1997, according to legal papers filed by Kirk Kerkorian. Three months later, Lisa told him she was pregnant.
Kira’s first birthday party was held at the leafy Hotel Bel-Air, which has swans in its pond and suites named for stars who frequent them, such as Oprah and Russell Crowe. The party cost $70,000.
In August 2000, a year after their divorce, Lisa Kerkorian walked into a Los Angeles restaurant and discovered her ex with another woman. She split for New York, and their relationship became acrimonious.
When Kira was three, Lisa Kerkorian told a Los Angeles court she needed $320,000 a month to raise her daughter properly. It was the largest child-support request in history, according to lawyers at the time. Kerkorian had begun paying $50,000 a month, and later temporarily raised that to $75,000 a month. In addition, he had bought Lisa a house and given her $3.15 million to refurbish it.
A few days after her court filing, Kerkorian put the MGM movie studio up for sale. Even this could not compete with the headlines about Kira’s child support. Kerkorian became the butt of late-night humor and bad jokes. “Never before have the side effects of Viagra been more frightfully clear,” joked Steve Lopez, a Los Angeles Times columnist, in a searing piece in which he noted that he had no idea whether Kerkorian had used the impotence drug.
In court papers, Lisa Bonder Kerkorian titillated the world with details of her and Kerkorian’s life. She said that he walked around with $10,000 in cash in his pocket, that he would drop $45,000 a couple of times a year for custom Brioni clothes, and that he preferred cash to credit cards because it doesn’t leave a paper trail. She claimed they lived together off and on until August 2000. He claimed they hadn’t lived together since 1995.
Nothing about the case was more breathtaking than the budget Lisa filed with the court for her three-year-old daughter. Three nannies, security guards, a houseman, housekeeper, household manager, and cook. There was $3,388 a month for tutors in French, ballet, tennis, piano, and riding; $5,920 a month for eating out and another $4,300 a month for eating in. Kira’s monthly phone bill was $945, and she needed $1,339 for laundry and dry cleaning as well as $2,500 a month for clothing.
Kira needed $1,000 a month for toys, books, and videos; $473 for subscriptions, $436 for pet care for her bunny; $7,083 for charitable contributions; and $5,000 for cash on hand.
Kira’s extraordinary travels were detailed as well.
When she was two Kira spent April 2000 in the Kerkorian suite at The Breakers in Palm Beach, having traveled there by chartered Gulfstream V on a vacation costing $150,290.
In June, she traveled to the Four Seasons Hotel in Maui, by Kerkorian’s Boeing 737. The estimated cost was $158,550.
She spent July and August in a Malibu rental house costing $211,000.
After the run-in in the restaurant that August, Lisa hightailed it to New York, holing up at the Regency Hotel until December. The cost to stay at the Regency was $41,000 a month.
A three-day trip back to Beverly Hills in November 2000 cost $298,000, including flights in Kerkorian’s Boeing 737 and a bungalow at the Beverly Hills Hotel.
In April 2001, Kira again made her annual trip to Maui, where they stayed this time in a suite at the Grand Wailea—a trip whose estimated cost was $138,900.
A vacation at Cap D’Antibes in July 2001 cost $527,328—including a chartered Gulfstream jet, car, and villa.
The intensely private Kerkorian and his longtime lawyer Terry Christensen responded with a lawsuit accusing Bonder Kerkorian of breaking six confidentiality agreements. Documents said she’d tossed a toy Mickey Mouse phone, his gift to Kira that day, over his gate, and threatened to toss over the pet rabbit he’d given Kira as well. She wanted a $25-million trust in return for living in Los Angeles, where he could easily see Kira, rather than New York, documents said.
Things really got exciting in January 2002 when the billionaire insisted that he was sterile and therefore wasn’t Kira’s biological father. For a time, Lisa Bonder Kerkorian claimed he was lying, but in the sordid end, it turned out to be true. She’d had a fling with a Hollywood producer playboy named Steve Bing, who coincidentally was facing other paternity claims by a former girlfriend—actress Elizabeth Hurley.
Faced with DNA evidence, Bonder Kerkorian admitted faking an earlier paternity test by convincing Kerkorian’s adult daughter Tracy to give her son a swab of saliva for an alleged school experiment and then submitted the swab as K
ira’s.
Kerkorian claimed he discovered that Kira is a biological Bing after hearing rumors of the fling. His attorneys sent private detectives to root through Steve Bing’s trash, where they discovered a strand of dental floss. The DNA from the floss, when compared with a strand of Kira’s hair, turned up a 99.993% certainty that Bing was the papa, according to Kerkorian’s court documents.
It’s worth noting that Kerkorian knew he wasn’t Kira’s father long before this information became public, and yet he continued to spend time with her and pay her mother $50,000 a month in child support.
For her trouble, a judge ultimately awarded Lisa Bonder Kerkorian an extra $316 a month, calling her demands “grossly excessive.” The former Mrs. Kerkorian, her blond hair dyed brunette, raced from the courtroom crying, “I can’t afford this,” according to news accounts.
That might have been the last the public heard from her if it hadn’t been for Anthony Pellicano, a Los Angeles private detective who was later accused of illegally tapping the phones of a variety of Hollywood types, including Sylvester Stallone and Keith Carradine.
Terry Christensen was indicted by a federal grand jury in February 2006, accused of hiring Pellicano to tap Lisa Bonder Kerkorian’s phone. Christensen said he was innocent of the wiretapping and conspiracy charges. Kerkorian issued a statement calling him a “paragon of integrity.”
Christensen, at the age of sixty-five, subsequently left both his law firm and the board of MGM Mirage to focus on his legal battles, making it unclear who was the biggest victim of the whole affair: Christensen or Kira.
Chapter Nineteen
PROPELLER HEADS
I won $119.05!
—DELORES, GAMBLER AT HARRAH’S EAST CHICAGO CASINO, WHO SPENT $200 GAMBLING BUT CONSIDERED HERSELF A WINNER THAT DAY
Gambling mogul? Kathy Welsh had married a scholar. By the time Gary Loveman was teaching at Harvard, he and Welsh had three school-age kids settled in a comfortable home near Cambridge, Massachusetts.
Winner Takes All Page 18