Barbara Corcoran shares the childhood lessons that helped her turn a $1,000 loan into a $2 billion company

"I was the entertainer in my family," chirps Barbara Corcoran as she describes the role her mother gave her as a child growing up in Edgewater, New Jersey. Her sister Ellen was meant to be a wonderful mother, her brother Eddie a leader, but Barbara Ann would be a star. Her mother was right. In 1973 Corcoran opened her real estate business with $1,000 from her boyfriend, and 30 years later The Corcoran Group is a $2 billion giant.

In a midtown restaurant, Corcoran virtually vibrates with enthusiasm and confidence, describing over pork chops how much fun it was to perform in front of her nine siblings. She has that uncanny skill, which only the best salespeople possess, of making you feel like you're the center of attention when really she's running the show. The conversation goes from the declining value of Manhattan real estate, to Corcoran's side talent of reading tarot cards, to her book publicist's expectant wife, and back to Corcoran's new book, Use What You've Got: And Other Business Lessons I Learned From My Mom. Corcoran handles each transition with grace and aplomb, keeping her audience captivated.

Her book draws you in, too. Entrepreneurs' visions don't always translate well to the page, but Corcoran's book, published by Portfolio and co-authored with Bruce Littlefield, is cleanly written and humorous. The squeaky-clean Waltons-esque descriptions of Corcoran's family lend it an almost folksy feel. But it also has a disarming honesty, laced with a bit of crudeness in the details. For example, Corcoran describes the time her landlord suspected her of being a prostitute after observing her real estate clients coming and going from her apartment at an alarming frequency. Contrary to the polished smile she flashes in her ads, Corcoran is fine with letting it all hang out -- or admitting when there isn't much to hang out. The first chapter of her book, for example, is entitled "If you don't have big breasts, put ribbons on your pigtails," a reference to her mother's advice when Corcoran moaned that the more well-endowed waitresses at the Fort Lee diner where she worked received ample tips compared to hers. Her mother suggested she direct attention to her strong points, and it paid off.

Other lessons in the book are counterintuitive, such as chapter 5, "Offer the bigger piece, and yours will taste even better." After Corcoran's boyfriend and business partner cheated on her with her secretary, they split up the business. Ray grabbed the top selling broker, the main company number, and the office space. Corcoran took another broker, Esther, who had sold less in the short term but produced consistently, got a new number that was easier to memorize, and graciously accepted the task and expense of finding a new space. Now look who has her face plastered all over Manhattan.

But don't mistake Corcoran's generosity (or self-deprecation) with weakness. She's a shrewd businesswoman who sold her company to NRT, Inc. in 2001 for a reported $70 million (she remains chairman). She courts celebrity clients, keeps herself highly visible thanks to a mean PR machine, and readily jumps on trends such as feng shui.

Perhaps one of her best assets is one that can't be explained in a book: a keen intuition and the confidence to rely on it. At the gabby lunch in Manhattan, Corcoran's smiles can't hide her sharp eye and ability to size people up instantly. She's been known to recruit on the spot, hiring Phil Collins' former tour manager, a hotel concierge, and a florist. Asked if she'd hire our friendly waiter, her smile vanishes and seemingly without a moment's thought she says, "I wouldn't hire him." Why? He was too familiar with our group ("it could be off-putting to some clients") and he frequently touched his belly ("could have stomach problems").

Corcoran is just as secure when promoting her company's image. Chapter #15, "If you want to get noticed, write your name on the wall," refers to the time she carved her full name in her neighbor's freshly cemented wall. As a businesswoman, she has been just as brash, using exposure to her advantage. For example, when she told reporters that a $37 million sale by a competitor was a "steal of a deal" CBS News called her for her expert commentary. The anchor mistakenly credited her as the realtor behind it -- an urban myth that still persists. When Madonna started apartment-hunting but didn't call The Corcoran Group, Corcoran speculated what Madonna's wish list would include (luxury, security, views), and faxed a copy to everyone but Madonna. She didn't call, but four other celebrities did, assuming Madonna was Corcoran's client.

Through it all, the gifted promoter and people-pleaser learned to take care of No. 1 as well. She jokes that she goes to a shrink to help balance her own needs. "I should just get a tape recording of my therapist saying, 'And what do YOU want, Barbara?'" she quips. But Corcoran seems to have exactly what she wants.