But he does pay off. In addition to their salaries, Frank pays cash bonuses to his professional players during games. They'll get, say, $100 for a birdie, or $500 to win a round.
His personal chefs get no such bonuses. But they do get to order $2,000 worth of truffles on a whim. "I do my grocery shopping by Federal Express," Frank says. "We get the best from all over the world. I get asparagus from Germany, Austria, Holland, and when the season is over there, we get it from Peru. You ever heard of a strawberry soufflé?"
"It's very difficult to find," he says. "But I remembered that, in Monte Carlo, I used to have wonderful strawberry soufflés. So, I have this one chef who is from France, and I had him call up the place in Monte Carlo and get the recipe."
At least Frank didn't go over and buy the restaurant. He tends to be prone to such whims. "I stayed in a beautiful house last year [in Kona, Hawaii]," he recalls. "I liked it so much, I bought it." It cost $13.5 million.
"You ever heard of a Glock?" Turns out that Frank has hired a bodyguard avec Glock because, you see, "When you're a billionaire, you've got to think about those kinds of things." Then again, Frank doesn't sound too worried. Then again, why should he worry? Here's a guy who made a billion in business by doing it his way. A focus group didn't name Grey Goose, he did. A consultant didn't tell him that someone besides Germans with bellyaches would drink Jägermeister; he just knew it. And now, even as he spends every day working and making more money than he ever imagined possible, Frank is also doing something rare and enviable: He's reveling in his fortune.
"Not in my wildest dreams did I ever think I'd be a billionaire," says Frank, now relaxing in his apartment while Donnie scurries around somewhere and the chefs start slicing and dicing for another meal. "I always thought it would be nice to be a millionaire, but I never expected more. Now I'm a billionaire, which I enjoy very much. I'm living the American dream, and I think it's wonderful."