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By Root 767 0

of an evening with someone who liked both. Undaunted by Zep’s repeated refusals, Frank would send over a case of champagne or some fine wine every now and again. “Because it’s a new moon,” his note might say, or “As it’s Tuesday.” He was known for being generous, and I liked that about him; his spontaneity and sense of fun weren’t what I’d expected from him after all I’d heard and read. I guess even back then there was a part of me that was curious about what really made Francis Albert tick.

Restless again after two years in Palm Springs, I began asking myself how much tennis, golf, or gin I could play. Figuring it was time I paid my dues, I decided to get involved with at least one charity a year and help it organize a fund-raising event, so I volunteered my services to the City of Hope cancer hospital for children near L.A. I knew enough people in Palm Springs who would attend a fund-raising event and give generously if asked; all I needed was an attraction—perhaps a fashion show or a dinner dance maybe; a movie screening or a golf tournament.

Kirk Douglas had recently had phenomenal success in a gladiator movie called Spartacus with Tony Curtis, so I asked him if we could possibly show his movie in the desert. To my delight, he agreed, so I set about selling tickets and organizing a post-screening ball. Two weeks before the event, his wife, Anne, called me up. “I’m sorry to tell you this, Barbara, but you can’t have Spartacus. Kirk didn’t realize that we’d already agreed to show it in L.A. at a benefit in aid of Cedars-Sinai hospital.”

I almost passed out. “But, Anne, this is so last-minute!” I told her. “We’ve sold tickets. I have the theater booked and everything!”

“I’m sorry, honey. This breaks my heart, but we can’t do anything about it.”

I had no idea how I was going to find an alternative movie or event as big as Spartacus on such short notice. Zeppo fled to the golf course rather than watch me fret, and I called everyone I knew. On the fairway, Zeppo ran into Frank Sinatra and told him what had happened. With hardly a moment’s hesitation Frank said, “Tell Barbara not to worry, I’m just finishing up a movie with Jill St. John. She can have an early cut of that instead.” When Zeppo came home and told me, I could hardly believe my ears. Not only did Frank keep his word but he flew everybody involved to Palm Springs, and we premiered the movie version of the Broadway hit musical Come Blow Your Horn at the theater I’d booked. It was a much lighter picture anyway, far less harrowing than Spartacus with all its blood and gore. There was a big party afterward, and we raised a huge amount of money. The event was more of a success than I could ever have hoped for. I was so grateful and wrote Frank a personal note of thanks.

The following day, Zeppo and I went to the Tamarisk Country Club for lunch. I spotted Frank sitting at a table and said, “I’d like to go over to thank him personally.”

“Stay there!” Zeppo barked. “I’ll go over and thank him.”

I stared at my husband for a moment. I remembered when Zeppo and I had watched Andy Williams perform in Vegas; it had somehow gotten into his head that Andy was singing directly to me. “Stop flirting with him!” Zeppo had snapped as I sat innocently in my seat. I was coming to realize that my relationships with men all revolved around possession and control, which was strange because my father had been the exact opposite.

At Tamarisk, I told Zeppo, “Then please thank Frank from me,” and watched as he went over to the Sinatra table. I saw Frank look up and nod politely in my direction. I smiled, and he smiled back at me. Ridiculously, I felt myself blushing. Zeppo returned to our table with an invitation for dinner that night, which he couldn’t possibly refuse after the favor Frank had done for me. When we arrived at the Compound, with its guesthouses set in several acres, we found a big crowd. There was the golf pro Kenny Venturi, an assortment of comedians, and the songwriter Jimmy Van Heusen, who wasn’t wearing any socks, I noticed. Other guests included the actors Robert