Sweetness_ The Enigmatic Life of Walter Payton - Jeff Pearlman [152]
Through the years, Payton’s list of sexual conquests via the show was a long one. Many of the models returned year after year, and though Payton’s reputation as a womanizer preceded him, his status and charm worked wonders. “I always felt bad for Connie, because Walter was as big a flirt as I’d ever seen,” said Donna Vanderventer, who was employed as a secretary in the Bears’ executive offices. “It was no different than Tiger Woods or Kobe Bryant. These guys go out and the girls are swooning, and unless they’re strong, dedicated family men, it was all about feeding the ego. And women feed egos.”
At the 1984 auto show, Payton found himself particularly smitten by a twenty-year-old model named Angelina Smythe. Breathtakingly beautiful, with wavy brown hair, olive-oil skin, and a perky figure, Angelina initially paid Payton no mind when the two met in an elevator. She had never watched a professional football game in her life, and was hardly impressed by his celebrity status.
“Angelina wasn’t looking to meet someone,” said a person familiar with the situation. “But Walter was a charmer. He would say things to draw a woman in. Not like, ‘You’re beautiful,’ but something deeper psychologically.
“He had a big hole inside of him. He did it dishonorably. He used women—and especially younger women—for something he needed. And I’m not saying something merely physical. There was an emptiness in him. He sought out women to fill that hole. It was devilish.”
At the time, Angelina attended church most Sundays and aspired to one day meet a nice man to marry. “She wasn’t one to chase anybody,” said the person who knew her. “But she was probably a little naïve.”
Payton complimented Angelina and made her feel special. He was a sharp dresser, a fast talker, a suave mover. He had strong hands and powerful arms and wherever he went, people smiled and appeared to be moved. Everyone wanted his company, and he was giving it to her.
In the weeks that followed, Walter and Angelina engaged in a passionate affair. Sure, he was married. But it wasn’t a real marriage, he told her. Just for show. He contacted her when Connie wasn’t around, and Angelina excitedly took his calls. She was young, poor, and struggling. He was a bright light. “It was not a fling,” Angelina said. “Otherwise the first time I met him it would have been done and over. I think Walter tried to be my friend as a way to get me closer to him, but not for the right reasons. I wanted to get to know him, but he was like a teenage boy—very, very immature. He asked if he could call me and I let him. But I knew he was married and I saw him with other women. It wasn’t my best thinking, but I was young and naïve.”
One morning in early May, Angelina telephoned Payton. Her voice was panicked. “I’m pregnant,” she said.
Silence.
More silence.
A devout Christian, Angelina decided to keep the baby. Walter stopped calling. Stopped caring. The man who couldn’t get enough of her now wanted nothing to do with her. Without saying a word to Connie (his wife didn’t learn of Angelina until years later), he had an accountant work out a financial package that included a fifty-thousand-dollar trust and an agreement to pay child support through the child’s twenty-first birthday. The terms of the deal: Leave Walter out of it, and never let the media catch wind.
When his son Nigel was born, on January 6, 1985, Walter was nowhere to be found. Angelina