EPISODE 1
“I’d Better Not Tell Manuela”
After he calmed down, Pilgrim realized he still loved Holland, even though she’d tried to lock him out of their house. On Friday, June 26, 2015, just days after their blowup, they spent a romantic weekend at the Loews Santa Monica Beach Hotel. Loews had firepits on the beach and views of the ocean, and they were much less likely to encounter anyone they knew there than at the Peninsula or Beverly Hills hotels.
On a long walk along the beach, Pilgrim apologized and told Holland he still loved her. She in turn professed her love for Pilgrim. How could he doubt her? She was risking everything—her relationship with Sumner and all the financial security and power that came with it—to be with him. If that didn’t prove how much she loved him, she couldn’t imagine what would.
Pilgrim had to agree. He got down on one knee on the sand and proposed to her all over again. Holland accepted.
A week later Pilgrim was back with his parents in Sedona and took his grandmother to a July 4 party at Seven Canyons. Holland was spending the holiday with Sumner but urged Pilgrim to have a good time and charge anything he wanted to their club account.
Pilgrim drove past his old house, from which he was still locked out, on his way to the club. There, people kept asking him about the Vanity Fair article and why Holland wasn’t with him at the party. Pilgrim started feeling agitated.
He called Holland from the club and asked if he could take his grandmother to see their house. Holland flatly refused. He couldn’t get her to explain why. They could talk about it later, she said. (Holland didn’t tell him she believed the house was now under constant surveillance by Elroy, Shari’s detective.)
After Pilgrim dropped off his grandmother and got back to his parents’ house, he called Holland again and, by his own admission, boiled over. He wasn’t going to let her “control” him the way Sumner controlled her. Soon they were shouting at each other. It was their worst fight ever. Pilgrim told her the engagement was off and he never wanted to see or speak to her again.
Days later, on July 8, Holland’s lawsuit against Naylor and Martinez came to a quiet end. Holland withdrew her complaint, having failed to produce any evidence Naylor had stolen her laptop. Judge Ernest Hiroshige seemed puzzled by the outcome, since Holland didn’t say whether the case had been settled or she was just dropping it. He noted the dearth of any evidence and how Holland had evaded Naylor’s attempts to question her about, among other things, love affairs she might have had behind Sumner’s back. The judge ruled that Holland had to pay Naylor’s $190,000 legal bill.
The case settled on terms subject to a strict nondisclosure agreement. But Holland had to pay Martinez as much as $8 million to get his signature.
Of course, Holland didn’t actually pay the multimillion-dollar settlement—like nearly all her expenses, no matter how large, Sumner picked up the tab.
After the stormy breakup with Holland, Pilgrim commuted between Sedona and Los Angeles, where he stayed with Amy Shpall. The reconciliation that had begun with his phone call from the taxi cab had proceeded over more calls, texts, and emails, and Shpall had agreed to take him back, putting most of the blame for the affair on Holland. She knew Holland—in the small world of Hollywood, one of Shpall’s best friends worked for Holland’s Rich Hippie Productions. She told her friend and his wife all about Holland’s affair with Pilgrim and her ties to Sumner.
Those friends pointed out what was surely obvious: Pilgrim’s secret affair with Holland gave him enormous leverage. Now that they’d broken up, Holland needed Pilgrim’s continued silence and cooperation to prevent Sumner from learning of her infidelity.
Pilgrim reached out to Bryan Freedman, the lawyer who’d represented Martinez. Holland had complained bitterly about Freedman and his tactics, which impressed Pilgrim now that he was thinking about suing her. He and Shpall met Freedman at his office in a Century City tower, where Freedman was taking calls while walking on a treadmill.
Pilgrim laid out the full story, which got Freedman’s attention. Both Freedman and Shpall, also seeing and hearing the details for the first time, acknowledged it was quite a saga. And it wasn’t just his word—Pilgrim had saved virtually everything, including a bevy of photos, explicit texts, and emails between him and Holland.
Pilgrim wasn’t sure he wanted to make any legal demands on Holland—though hurt and angry, on some level he still loved her.
“Rest assured,” Freedman said, “you don’t know Sydney.”
What did he mean? Pilgrim asked.
After representing Martinez, Freedman had a pretty good idea of what had gone on at the Redstone mansion. He told Pilgrim he’d seen explicit photos of Holland with other men, not just Sumner. “I know this may be hard for you,” he told Pilgrim.
Perhaps he’d been naive, but Pilgrim had believed Holland had been faithful. What Freedman told him erased any reservations he had about confronting his former fiancée. Pilgrim signed on with Freedman, agreeing to pay a 25 percent contingency fee.
Freedman was baffled by Holland’s willingness to put so much at risk for an affair with someone who had a criminal record. Pilgrim might be handsome and charming, but so were plenty of other men in Hollywood. Freedman wondered aloud: What had Holland seen in him?
On some level Shpall got it. “He’s George Pilgrim. He’s one of a kind,” she said.
Holland soon got wind of the fact that Pilgrim had consulted a lawyer.
“I suggest you back down and disappear Quietly from my life,” she texted Pilgrim’s confidante Rueda. “Three facts: I am smarter than you, I am richer than you, and I do not have a criminal past.”
With the explosive evidence about Holland’s affair with Pilgrim, Freedman thought there was little chance any case would ever go to trial, just as the Naylor and Martinez case had settled. So confident was Pilgrim of a favorable outcome that he agreed to raise Freedman’s fee to 40 percent of any settlement.
On July 17, Freedman drafted a letter laying out the grounds for Pilgrim’s claims against Holland for breach of contract, express or implied. There was no mention of any threat to go public with Pilgrim’s account, but there didn’t need to be.
“I am writing this letter as a result of Sydney’s . . . fraudulent and deceptive campaign to lure George into signing his life rights to Sydney’s production company and donating semen for her benefit, only to manipulate him into a rehabilitation center so she could abruptly end the relationship and lock him out of his home,” the letter began. “Sydney’s conduct is nothing short of abhorrent, and George intends to pursue all available legal remedies to ensure this conduct does not go unanswered.”
The letter mentioned various “witnesses” who could attest that Holland bought the Sedona house for Pilgrim and “will testify that Sydney agreed to financially take care of George for the rest of his life, which is consistent with her having paid for his private jets to see her, his country club membership and his health insurance.”
As for Sumner, “Sydney repeatedly assured George that her relationship with Mr. Redstone is not based upon emotion, is strictly financial, and is meant for no purpose other than cashing in on Mr. Redstone’s wealth upon his death. Sydney repeatedly conveyed to George that she has simply been manipulating Mr. Redstone from the outset, and we have several witnesses to affirm these statements. Sydney repeatedly assured George that he was the real love of her life and future husband, and that her relationship with Mr. Redstone would be short-lived.”
The letter concluded with a stern warning: “Given the severity of these claims, we require an immediate response to this letter. We are very familiar with Sydney’s dilatory tactics, and will not allow her any opportunity to engage in that type of gamesmanship under these circumstances. Be advised that if (i) you do not respond to this letter within 24 hours with substantive settlement offers that are commensurate with the severity of the claims, and (ii) the parties are unable to reach a settlement within 48 hours thereafter, we will file litigation. While the settlement terms are obviously negotiable, the timing parameters outlined herein are not.”
Freedman never sent the letter. Simply summarizing its contents was enough. Freedman negotiated with Brad Rose at Pryor Cashman in New York, who was handling the matter for Holland. He responded quickly with an offer for Holland to pay Pilgrim $15,000 a month for ten years, plus half the proceeds from the sale of the Sedona house up to $2 million.
It wasn’t bad for an opening offer.
Freedman said Pilgrim wanted $10 million.
Negotiations continued. Rose eventually offered Pilgrim more than $10 million, paid over a ten-year period, including a percentage of the proceeds from the sale of the house in Sedona and some of what Holland eventually inherited from Sumner. In return, he’d sign a strict nondisclosure agreement and make no mention of Holland or the affair in his proposed autobiography or in any other context.
At this point Pilgrim had everything he’d said he wanted—and then some. There were still a few details to work out, and as the deal was coming together, Pilgrim was in Los Angeles with Shpall. On Friday, August 28, they went to a party at Wally’s, a restaurant and wine bar in Beverly Hills co-owned by two founders of Guess jeans, Maurice and Paul Marciano. Their nephew Matt Marciano, who also worked at Wally’s, was there with his girlfriend Christy Cham, Manuela Herzer’s older daughter.
A week earlier, Pilgrim and Shpall had ended up sitting next to Marciano and Cham at a communal table at Wally’s. Pilgrim’s ears had perked up as soon as he overheard disparaging references to Holland and Sumner. He quickly realized Cham was Herzer’s daughter, from both her comments and her striking physical resemblance to her mother. To Pilgrim it felt like fate had brought them together.
As he pondered the situation over the next week, it dawned on him that he could blow up everything and inflict his revenge on Holland. Sumner “had turned her into his whore,” Pilgrim thought bitterly, and now, with her offer of $10 million–plus on the table, she was doing the same thing to him. With the money paid out in installments over years, Holland would remain in control. He’d still be a kept man.
At Wally’s that Friday night, Pilgrim had way too much to drink. He went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face to try to clear his head. As he gazed at himself in the mirror, he heard a voice: “Don’t take the money.” The voice added, “It’s blood money.”
Pilgrim walked back into the party and pulled Matt Marciano aside. They went outside for a cigarette. Pilgrim blurted out an account of his love affair with Holland and told Marciano about their plans to marry and have children. He showed him pictures on his cell phone to back up his account.
When Shpall joined them, Marciano asked her if Pilgrim and his story were for real. They were, she affirmed.
“I’d better not tell Manuela,” Marciano said.
Marciano went straight to Herzer with the explosive information, as Pilgrim knew he would. Herzer was stunned and furious, and no wonder: Holland had put everything they’d worked so hard for at risk. At the same time, what might be a catastrophe for Holland promised a huge windfall for her. After all, why should she share the anticipated inheritance from Sumner with Holland?
According to household staff members, Herzer ordered Holland to confess the affair to Sumner—and if she didn’t, Herzer would tell him.
News of Pilgrim’s startling disclosure reached Freedman late on Saturday morning when a hungover Pilgrim called to tell him he might have “made a mistake” the night before. He said he’d talked about Holland to Marciano at Wally’s, but was vague and evasive. He claimed, unconvincingly, that he hadn’t really told him anything. Freedman thought Pilgrim sounded like a child caught misbehaving by a parent. When he spoke to Shpall, she confirmed that Pilgrim had told Marciano all about his affair with Holland.
Freedman called Holland’s lawyers. It was a bad sign that no one returned his call.
Settlement talks collapsed. Freedman was incredulous. On what seemed a drunken impulse, Pilgrim had forfeited what promised to be a lifetime of financial security. And he’d cost Freedman a potential $4 million contingency fee.
The next day, Sunday, August 30, Holland, with the lawyer Patty Glaser at her side, confessed to Sumner. Though Holland asked for privacy, nurses and household staff witnessed the entire exchange. Holland described the affair as an “indiscretion” and told Sumner she “hoped for the same forgiveness and understanding that she had shown him during all his affairs.”
Holland apologized profusely and was in the process of begging Sumner’s forgiveness when Herzer could apparently no longer contain herself. She burst into the room and unleashed an onslaught of increasingly wild-eyed allegations: Holland was a prostitute and Pilgrim an ex-con. Pilgrim was the father of Holland’s baby. Holland and Pilgrim were plotting to kill Sumner.
Herzer demanded that Sumner throw Holland out immediately.
Faced with this barrage and presumably overwhelmed by feelings of betrayal, Sumner told Holland to leave but gave her two weeks to get out. Herzer cut the grace period to two days.
Forty-eight hours later, Holland and her daughter, Alexandra, were gone, decamping for the time being to the luxurious Montage Hotel in Beverly Hills.