Supermodel’s cheating hubby could not be reached for comment
By Beth Teitell
Boston Herald Columnist
Thursday, July 20, 2006 - Updated: 12:14 PM EST
As the Christie Brinkley marriage scandal zips through the tabloid world like it’s on Day Three of the Fat Flush diet, I couldn’t help but wonder: What does a person in the thick of a marital and media nightmare do with himself all day?
It’s not like things are cooling down any - the ex-boyfriend of soon-to-be-ex-husband Peter Cook’s ex-girlfriend is ‘‘breaking his silence” after, what, two whole hours - so how do the scandal-plagued carry on?
Does one go to work as if nothing’s wrong, George Costanza-style?
I called Cook’s architecture firm in Southampton, N.Y. ‘‘Hey, is Peter there?” I asked pleasantly. The voice on the other end sounded a bit . . . strained, as if the phone had been ringing a lot. ‘‘Are things there crazy?” I asked. Alas, he was not in. ‘‘Would you like me to put you through to his voice mail?”
I figured his mailbox would already be full with pitches from TV producers and divorce attorneys, and maybe an I-told-you-so message from his ex-ex-girlfriend, ‘‘Cad’s Lolita #1” in New York Post parlance. She’s the cutie who told Cook years ago that Christie (then in her early 40s) was too old for him.
But incredibly, the answering machine had room on it. ‘‘Hi, this is Peter,’ ” the message says cheerfully. ‘‘I’m either on the other line” . . . or on the ledge, I thought.
Of all the story’s shockers, perhaps the biggest is that Christie, 52, did not learn the news that her husband was cheating on her with teenager Diana Bianchi the old-fashioned way - via tabloid splash - but rather was confronted by Lolita No. 2’s stepdad (are you still with me?). Christie, I’m sorry, if the media had been doing its job, we could have saved you from at least a year of your dead-end marriage. There was clearly an intel failure.
A story like this rarely has any heroes, but if there’s one standout, it’s Diana’s ex, the ‘‘hunky Hamptons surfer boy” who suffered, oh, did he suffer. ‘‘Nobody should have to go through something like this,” he told the Post. Especially not someone who got access to his then-girlfriend’s e-mail account and sent Cook a message that purported to be from her, according to the Post, telling Cook he was a ‘‘dirty old man” who should ‘‘stay away.”
But maybe the whole thing isn’t the dirty old man’s fault. It’s Long Island’s. As we know from the good ol’ Joey Buttafuoco days, the place is crawling with Lolitas.
My advice to Christie: When you marry for the fifth time, have ‘‘the Hamptons are off-limits” written into the prenup.
