Trump: How to Get Rich

11:00 A.M. I go down to the large conference room to see some plans for a possible new development. Charlie, Russell, Jill, and Don Jr., my development team, go over them with me. This could be a go, but I’ll have to think about it a bit more. I don’t have a formula for making decisions—each situation is unique, and I allow my assessment to be equally unique, with no time constraints. When it’s right, it will be right. I may have the reputation of being brash, but I am very restrained in regard to making decisions. People don’t see the process—they only see the results.

11:30 A.M. I return nine calls and realize I’m looking forward to having lunch at the golf club and a round of golf with Bill Clinton, David Granger, and Alfons. It’s a beautiful day, and I love checking out the course. That’s one reason I don’t feel too guilty about taking a Friday afternoon off—I’ll still be working.

Someone sends in a big box of Godiva chocolates. This will be tough, but I’ll just look at them for a while and then put them outside for my staff. Who says I’m not a nice guy? Ditto for those Belgian truffles. Life can be tough.

12:00 P.M. I ask George Ross to come in, and we go over a few things. George brings the word laconic to life. Five minutes with him equals one hour with your average lawyer.

12:05 P.M. I decide to call Mike Donovan. I want to see how the work is going on my 727. He says it will be ready next week, which is good news, as I want to visit my golf course in California.

12:15 P.M. Mark Burnett and his two producers, Jay Bienstock and Kevin Harris, come in for a meeting, to go over the assignments to be given to the sixteen candidates on The Apprentice. This is an interesting process. We want to make sure that each assignment has a purpose beyond entertainment. These guys are not only nice, they’re intelligent. I really feel they’ve got their bases covered. Any apprehensions I had about the TV show have evaporated.

12:45 P.M. I go through twenty-seven requests, including invitations from Norway, Peru, and India. Norma tells me I should view the video made for Trump Park Avenue before I leave, which has some beautiful footage. It’s a great video.

1:00 P.M. I collect my papers and faxes and ask Rhona to call the elevator and to tell Eddie to have the car ready in fifteen minutes.

I make my exit. It’s been a great week. I just hope the car is ready. Otherwise, Eddie’s in for it—big time.

Here I am with Mark Burnett, creator of The Apprentice, and Jeff Zucker, president of NBC Entertainment.

Prime Time

Over the past few years, since reality shows came into vogue, television networks have been trying to get me to do one. They approached me with offers for substantial amounts of money, but the concept was always predictable. They wanted to follow me around with cameras, watching me make deals, brush my teeth, and, most certainly, comb my hair. None of this appealed to me at all.

One day, I was approached by the head of CBS Entertainment, Les Moonves, who wanted to broadcast the live finale of the hit series Survivor from Wollman Rink in Central Park, which I control through a long-term lease. It sounded like a great idea to me, especially when they told me they were going to build a jungle to replicate the one in which the Survivor contestants had been living.

When I arrived at Wollman Rink that night, I was amazed to see what they had been able to do. They had transformed a city skating rink into an exotic wildlife scene. As I was heading toward my seat, an attractive young man approached me and said, Hi, Mr. Trump, I’m Mark Burnett and I’m the creator of Survivor.

I said, Mark, you don’t have to tell me that. Everybody knows who you are, but it’s really nice to meet you.

He said, You know, Mr. Trump, I have an idea and I’d love to see you at your earliest possible convenience.

A week later, he came to my office. Before he got to his formal presentation, he did what any smart entrepreneur would do: He made sure he established a connection with me.

He did this by telling me that I’m a genius. Some people may consider such flattery excessive, but when you’re on the receiving end, it’s usually okay.

In the most passionate terms, he told me how, fifteen years ago, when he was selling shirts on Venice Beach and barely making a living, he had read a copy of The Art of the Deal. He said it had changed his life.

If that’s so, I said, why haven’t you given me twenty percent?

He laughed heartily. I knew he was setting the table, but he was setting it brilliantly. I was impressed.

Then he told me his idea for The Apprentice—a series set in the jungle of New York City, the toughest jungle of them all, where people tear each other apart just to get an inch ahead of the competition.