His Way_ The Unauthorized Biography of Frank Sinatra - Kitty Kelley [47]
“He hired me to do some work for him at fifty dollars a week, but he got two months behind in paying me,” said Milt Rubin, Frank’s first press agent. “I asked somebody to find out why, and they told me that Nancy was handling the money and she felt that if she didn’t pay people on time, they would work harder for Frank. I had to start suit to collect.”
Money was the only weapon Nancy had to wield control over her husband’s freewheeling style, and though he usually ignored her and continued spending, his associates couldn’t be so cavalier. “Nancy really tried to hold us down,” said Nick Sevano, “but money never ruled Frank. That was probably his best quality. When I was with him, he lived like King Farouk and spent all the time. He was always telling me to pick up six theater tickets for someone, to send flowers to someone else, to buy a gold lighter for this reporter and a gold watch for that one, to tip the maître d’, tip the waiter, tip the hatcheck girl, tip the cabbie, tip, tip, tip. He never wanted anyone to think that he was not successful because he didn’t have money, so he spent like crazy. And he never worried about going broke either. He said that he was the greatest singer in the world and that he’d always be able to make millions because he had such a fantastic talent. Hank and I thought he was nuts at times, but then, when you come from humble beginnings like we did, you tend to hang on to money for fear you’ll never see it again. Nancy was like that, too, but not Frank. He always had money growing up because of his mom, and now he was always going to have it because of his talent.”
Following his astounding success at the Paramount, the money rolled in as Frank signed contracts with Your Hit Parade, Columbia Records, and RKO. He made sure the press knew the astronomical sums he was making—$1,250 a week at the Paramount and $4,500 for a return visit, $2,800 a week on the Hit Parade, $1,000 for personal appearances on radio programs like The Jack Benny Show, Amos ’n Andy, and the George Burns and Gracie Allen show; $1,000 for a three-minute song in Reveille with Beverly, plus $25,000 for his first RKO movie, $50,000 for the second, and $100,000 for the third. “I’m in the $100,000 class now,” he told the New York Daily News.
He had the swooners, but now he needed the sophisticates. So his agents accepted an April 1943 booking at the Riobamba, a sleek New York City nightclub that catered to socialites but was in financial trouble due to some recent cancellations. After much brokering, Frank was hired, but only as the “extra added attraction” for $800 a week. The two stars, monologist Walter O’Keefe and singer-comedienne Sheila Barrett, received $1,500 apiece.
Evans was worried. He knew how important it was for Frank to capture this sophisticated audience if he was to break into nightclubs and soar to the top. Hank Sanicola, also apprehensive, suggested more rehearsals, but Frank laughed. He had already seen the Riobamba. After looking the place over, he had turned to the owner and said, “You better push the walls of this joint out. I’m gonna pack ’em in.”
Five days later, the nightclub was filled. By the end of the week, it was standing room only, and the club started making a profit. After two weeks, the two headliners were dropped, leaving only Frank and a line of chorus girls. His three-week engagement was extended, and his price upped to fifteen hundred a week. He was exultant and preening.
“I’m flying high, kid,” he told a reporter. “I’ve planned my career. From the first minute I walked on a stage I determined to get exactly where I am; like a guy who starts out being an office boy but has a vision of occupying the president’s office ‘someday.’ I hitched my wagon to a star and. …”
Composer Jule Styne sat in the opening night audience and parried with Frank until dawn. A few hours later, a messenger delivered to Styne a gold ID bracelet from Cartier inscribed: