Lysandra Ohrstrom: “I remember swinging by her dad’s office at Trump Tower so she could borrow his credit card to go shopping. When we were not in our uniforms, the look was baby tees from Urban Outfitters; floral, boudoir numbers from Betsey Johnson for the interschool dances, or the sixth floor of Barneys if we were splurging. Mr. Trump always handed over the credit card after a little feigned outrage about how much money he was giving her mother. He would barely acknowledge me except to ask if Ivanka was the prettiest or the most popular girl in our grade. Before I learned that the Trumps have no sense of humor about themselves, I remember answering honestly that she was probably in the top five. ‘Who’s prettier than Ivanka?’ I recall him asking once with genuine confusion, before correctly naming the two girls I’d had in mind. He described one as a young Cindy Crawford, while the other he said had a great figure.”

“Though he never remembered my name, he seemed to have a photographic memory for changes in my body. I’ll never forget the time Ivanka and I were having lunch with her brothers at Mar-a-Lago one day, and while Mr. Trump was saying hi, Don Jr. swiped half a grilled cheese sandwich off my plate. Ivanka scolded him, but Mr. Trump chimed in, ‘Don’t worry. She doesn’t need it. He’s doing her a favor.’ Conversely, he’d usually congratulate me if I’d lost weight.”