insist upon it!” Ellenor stated firmly. “And don’t worry about reporting back to Ron. I’ll take care of Henry Higgins.”
16
The following morning at ten, as the front doors of the Ford Pavilion opened, Ellenor sat behind her desk scanning the day’s agenda and soon came across the excuse she needed to talk with Ron.
“Hi,” she addressed him as she entered the VIP area several minutes later. “Can we chat?”
“Sure thing,” said Ron, taking Ellenor by the arm and leading her across the corridor to where there was less traffic.
“I’ve got a dandy assignment for you today,” said Ellenor, handing him a small yellow slip of paper. “Mr. Thomason said this extra-special VIP guest must be led around by an extra-special VIP host, and I decided, against my better judgment, I suppose, to turn the assignment over to you.”
Ron looked down at the name on the VIP slip: “Darryl F. Zanuck, 5:30 P .m.”
Zanuck! My God, thought Ron. One of the golden names in all of Hollywood. Ron got so excited it was all he could do not to take Ellenor in his arms for a grateful embrace.
Instead he said calmly, “Sure, I’ll cover it for you.”
Ellenor turned to go back to her office, and just as she thought her plan might have failed, Ron tapped her on the back of the shoulder and asked, “Hey, how’d your date go with Casanova?”
“You mean Gary?”
“No, I mean Rudolph Valentino. ‘Course I mean Gary.”
“Better than I ever might’ve imagined.”
“Why?” Ron wanted to know, suddenly more than curious.
“Why not?”
“What happened?” asked Ron.
“What did Gary tell you happened?” asked Ellenor.
“He said ‘a gentleman never discusses these things.’ Isn’t that boring?”
“Boring,” said Ellenor. “But terribly loyal and sweet. Well … just because a gentleman doesn’t discuss these things doesn’t mean a lady cannot.”
“That’s quite true,” said Ron, licking his lips. “Let’s hear it”
“Nothing much to tell. Sometimes you don’t know if these things are a matter of chemistry or whether some guys are just born to be natural lovers.”
“Huh?”
“I mean, when you’re as tender and caring a lover as Gary, I don’t suppose you can chalk too much of it up to momentary providence. I have to believe he’s sensational with every girl he’s with.”
“What are you talking about?” Ron grabbed Ellenor by the elbow again and whisked her over to a still-more-quiet corner of the VIP area. “He’s a virgin. V-i-r-g-i-n! What are you going on about?”
“A virgin?” Ellenor stifled a laugh. “Always joking around, Ron. Never coming clean. Your roommate Gary is a virgin like Catherine Deneuve is ugly. And if you got any more like him at home, please, I beg you, send ‘em around.”
Satisifed with her appraisal, Ellenor twirled her hair behind her shoulder and headed back to her office, leaving Ron stunned and confused.
Mission accomplished.
Ron had no time to think about Gary and Ellenor. There was a spring loose somewhere in the timepiece of her story, but hell, he would find it later. Right now he had his own life to worry about. He had Darryl F. Zanuck, the famous studio head, coming to the pavilion in several short hours.
The hour and a half before his lunch break went on forever. Ron stalked the pavilion seeking answers to questions no one could provide. So he found out where the nearest public library was and at two o’clock, the moment he was off on his lunch break, dashed down to 108th Street and boarded the Number 7 bus for Kew Gardens.
He had to walk eight blocks from where the bus dropped him off before he got to the library. He headed straight for the reference section, pulled out several movie almanacs, several editions of Who’s Who, and thumbed quickly through the heavy volumes, jotting down pertinent information.
He got back to the fairgrounds with but five minutes
16
The following morning at ten, as the front doors of the Ford Pavilion opened, Ellenor sat behind her desk scanning the day’s agenda and soon came across the excuse she needed to talk with Ron.
“Hi,” she addressed him as she entered the VIP area several minutes later. “Can we chat?”
“Sure thing,” said Ron, taking Ellenor by the arm and leading her across the corridor to where there was less traffic.
“I’ve got a dandy assignment for you today,” said Ellenor, handing him a small yellow slip of paper. “Mr. Thomason said this extra-special VIP guest must be led around by an extra-special VIP host, and I decided, against my better judgment, I suppose, to turn the assignment over to you.”
Ron looked down at the name on the VIP slip: “Darryl F. Zanuck, 5:30 P .m.”
Zanuck! My God, thought Ron. One of the golden names in all of Hollywood. Ron got so excited it was all he could do not to take Ellenor in his arms for a grateful embrace.
Instead he said calmly, “Sure, I’ll cover it for you.”
Ellenor turned to go back to her office, and just as she thought her plan might have failed, Ron tapped her on the back of the shoulder and asked, “Hey, how’d your date go with Casanova?”
“You mean Gary?”
“No, I mean Rudolph Valentino. ‘Course I mean Gary.”
“Better than I ever might’ve imagined.”
“Why?” Ron wanted to know, suddenly more than curious.
“Why not?”
“What happened?” asked Ron.
“What did Gary tell you happened?” asked Ellenor.
“He said ‘a gentleman never discusses these things.’ Isn’t that boring?”
“Boring,” said Ellenor. “But terribly loyal and sweet. Well … just because a gentleman doesn’t discuss these things doesn’t mean a lady cannot.”
“That’s quite true,” said Ron, licking his lips. “Let’s hear it”
“Nothing much to tell. Sometimes you don’t know if these things are a matter of chemistry or whether some guys are just born to be natural lovers.”
“Huh?”
“I mean, when you’re as tender and caring a lover as Gary, I don’t suppose you can chalk too much of it up to momentary providence. I have to believe he’s sensational with every girl he’s with.”
“What are you talking about?” Ron grabbed Ellenor by the elbow again and whisked her over to a still-more-quiet corner of the VIP area. “He’s a virgin. V-i-r-g-i-n! What are you going on about?”
“A virgin?” Ellenor stifled a laugh. “Always joking around, Ron. Never coming clean. Your roommate Gary is a virgin like Catherine Deneuve is ugly. And if you got any more like him at home, please, I beg you, send ‘em around.”
Satisifed with her appraisal, Ellenor twirled her hair behind her shoulder and headed back to her office, leaving Ron stunned and confused.
Mission accomplished.
Ron had no time to think about Gary and Ellenor. There was a spring loose somewhere in the timepiece of her story, but hell, he would find it later. Right now he had his own life to worry about. He had Darryl F. Zanuck, the famous studio head, coming to the pavilion in several short hours.
The hour and a half before his lunch break went on forever. Ron stalked the pavilion seeking answers to questions no one could provide. So he found out where the nearest public library was and at two o’clock, the moment he was off on his lunch break, dashed down to 108th Street and boarded the Number 7 bus for Kew Gardens.
He had to walk eight blocks from where the bus dropped him off before he got to the library. He headed straight for the reference section, pulled out several movie almanacs, several editions of Who’s Who, and thumbed quickly through the heavy volumes, jotting down pertinent information.
He got back to the fairgrounds with but five minutes
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