what was going to happen when we met; I certainly didn’t. I think he immediately sensed I was someone special, otherwise he would have made a move on me in the wine cellar. Something in him told him right from the start not to treat this like a quickie.
Gene and I talked every day while I was in Canada and decided that I would fly directly from Toronto to visit him in New York. I had only spent a couple of hours at the party with him, then a few minutes the next morning when he came by to visit. Since then we’d had some great conversations and I was excited to see him again, but truly, I didn’t know what to expect.
When the shoot ended I flew directly to New York. He was waiting, and the whole scene was straight off the cover of a romance novel, with Gene as the hero. Flowers, a limousine, food—we headed straight for his place. I didn’t leave New York for three months! I stayed for so long that Tracy eventually had to fly in and bring me my dog, Vanilla. Tracy stayed for a while, then took off for Europe to model.
While I was in Canada, I had heard a few things about Mr. Simmons. For one thing, I knew from Tracy that he had something going on with Diana Ross. Just a few days after I arrived Gene picked up the phone and called Diana Ross and told her, “Look, I’ve met somebody, and I don’t want you to read about it in the tabloids or anything. But I’ve met this girl Shannon and I want to spend some time with her.” I was impressed with his honesty and forthrightness. He didn’t have to do that. He could have avoided an uncomfortable discussion for a long time.
Gene really won my heart; he tried so hard. He placed candles around the bathtub, he brought me scones and jam and tea in bed, and food whenever I was hungry. As anyone who knew Gene then or knows him now can attest, this behavior was completely out of character for him. The man can barely make a sandwich. He was knocking himself out, though I didn’t fully appreciate what an effort this was for him. Several of his previous girlfriends had had housekeepers and chefs. I thought I must certainly be the poorest girlfriend he’d had in quite a while; he actually had to do things for me. The whole dynamic of our relationship was very new to him, but he liked doing things for me, and it was very endearing. He actually picked his clothes up off the floor while I was there—something he hasn’t done since. He wanted to make a good impression, and I wanted him to want me around.
Gene was different from the other guys I’d been with, because he was so completely accepting of me. I didn’t ever have to be embarrassed about opening up too much…. or think, “Oh, if I say that he’s got ammo.” I’d had those thoughts with other people. And it was just not like that with Gene. I was still smoking cigarettes at the time, a habit he just hated, but he didn’t give me any grief about it. It wasn’t a deal breaker. Nothing I did was a deal breaker. I was the exception to all his rules. I suddenly had a man who just wanted to make me happy. He’d head out to rehearse and come home and I’d still be in bed! He’d just happily jump back in. It was so romantic, I couldn’t believe it. I thought, This, too, has to pass. Another not-real situation. Too good to be true. But it wasn’t.
One day Gene took me to Bloomingdale’s for a shopping spree. Hef had given me presents sometimes, but let’s face it, I knew his secretary had been the one who picked them out. The sentiment had been there; Hef was thoughtful and I appreciated it when he said something like “Go out and buy yourself a dress,” but I had never experienced anything like this shopping trip with Gene.
Not knowing New York, I’d never been inside Bloomingdale’s. We walked around the store and Gene said, “Pick out whatever you want.” He sat patiently while I modeled all the latest fashions. I had certainly never shopped on this scale—one with an unlimited budget. I was in heaven
Gene and I talked every day while I was in Canada and decided that I would fly directly from Toronto to visit him in New York. I had only spent a couple of hours at the party with him, then a few minutes the next morning when he came by to visit. Since then we’d had some great conversations and I was excited to see him again, but truly, I didn’t know what to expect.
When the shoot ended I flew directly to New York. He was waiting, and the whole scene was straight off the cover of a romance novel, with Gene as the hero. Flowers, a limousine, food—we headed straight for his place. I didn’t leave New York for three months! I stayed for so long that Tracy eventually had to fly in and bring me my dog, Vanilla. Tracy stayed for a while, then took off for Europe to model.
While I was in Canada, I had heard a few things about Mr. Simmons. For one thing, I knew from Tracy that he had something going on with Diana Ross. Just a few days after I arrived Gene picked up the phone and called Diana Ross and told her, “Look, I’ve met somebody, and I don’t want you to read about it in the tabloids or anything. But I’ve met this girl Shannon and I want to spend some time with her.” I was impressed with his honesty and forthrightness. He didn’t have to do that. He could have avoided an uncomfortable discussion for a long time.
Gene really won my heart; he tried so hard. He placed candles around the bathtub, he brought me scones and jam and tea in bed, and food whenever I was hungry. As anyone who knew Gene then or knows him now can attest, this behavior was completely out of character for him. The man can barely make a sandwich. He was knocking himself out, though I didn’t fully appreciate what an effort this was for him. Several of his previous girlfriends had had housekeepers and chefs. I thought I must certainly be the poorest girlfriend he’d had in quite a while; he actually had to do things for me. The whole dynamic of our relationship was very new to him, but he liked doing things for me, and it was very endearing. He actually picked his clothes up off the floor while I was there—something he hasn’t done since. He wanted to make a good impression, and I wanted him to want me around.
Gene was different from the other guys I’d been with, because he was so completely accepting of me. I didn’t ever have to be embarrassed about opening up too much…. or think, “Oh, if I say that he’s got ammo.” I’d had those thoughts with other people. And it was just not like that with Gene. I was still smoking cigarettes at the time, a habit he just hated, but he didn’t give me any grief about it. It wasn’t a deal breaker. Nothing I did was a deal breaker. I was the exception to all his rules. I suddenly had a man who just wanted to make me happy. He’d head out to rehearse and come home and I’d still be in bed! He’d just happily jump back in. It was so romantic, I couldn’t believe it. I thought, This, too, has to pass. Another not-real situation. Too good to be true. But it wasn’t.
One day Gene took me to Bloomingdale’s for a shopping spree. Hef had given me presents sometimes, but let’s face it, I knew his secretary had been the one who picked them out. The sentiment had been there; Hef was thoughtful and I appreciated it when he said something like “Go out and buy yourself a dress,” but I had never experienced anything like this shopping trip with Gene.
Not knowing New York, I’d never been inside Bloomingdale’s. We walked around the store and Gene said, “Pick out whatever you want.” He sat patiently while I modeled all the latest fashions. I had certainly never shopped on this scale—one with an unlimited budget. I was in heaven
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