Do you have an appointment?
No, but—
Then you don’t see anybody.
There must be someone I—
Not without an appointment . . .
Harry Cohn wants you to run Columbia.
Shortly after my conversation with Dore, I was having lunch in the studio commissary, when I saw Zsa Zsa Gabor at a nearby table, with a lovely-looking young brunette. I had met Zsa Zsa several months earlier and I found her amusing. She and her sisters, Eva and Magda, were already Hollywood legends, famous for being famous. They had come from Hungary and quickly established themselves in Hollywood as eccentric, talented women. At the moment, it was Zsa Zsa’s companion I was interested in. When I finished lunch, I went over to Zsa Zsa’s table.
“Darling—” That was her usual greeting to everyone, including strangers.
“Hi, Zsa Zsa.” We did the Hollywood air kiss.
She turned to the young woman with her. “I would like you to meet Jorja Curtright. She’s a wonderful actress. This is Sidney Sheldon.”
Jorja nodded. “Hello.”
“Sit down, darling.”
I sat. I turned to Jorja. “So, you’re an actress. What have you done?”
She said, vaguely, “Different things.”
I was taken aback by her response. Actresses usually could not wait to tell producers their credits.
I looked at her more closely. There was something magnetic about her. She was a beauty, with classical features and deep, intelligent brown eyes, filled with promise. Her voice was husky and distinctive.
“Why don’t you two come up to my office when you’re through with lunch?” I suggested.
“We’d love to, darling.”
Jorja said nothing.
On the way to my office, I stopped to see Jerry Davis, my close friend who was a writer on the lot.
“Jerry, I just met the woman I’m going to marry.”
“Who is she? I’d like to meet her.”
“Oh, no, not yet. I don’t need the competition.”
Fifteen minutes later, Zsa Zsa and Jorja came to my office.
“Please, sit down,” I said.
We chatted idly for a few minutes. Finally, I said to Jorja, “If you’re not seeing anyone, why don’t we have dinner one night?” I picked up a pen. “What’s your phone number?”
“I’m afraid I’m very busy,” Jorja said.
Zsa Zsa looked at Jorja in horror. “Don’t be a fool, darling. Sidney’s a producer.”
“I’m sorry,” Jorja said, “I’m not interested in—”
Zsa Zsa spoke up and gave me Jorja’s telephone number. Jorja glared at her, obviously upset.
“It’s just a dinner,” I said to Jorja. “I’ll call you.”
Jorja got up. “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Sheldon.”
I could feel the chill in the room. I watched as the two of them left. This is not going to be easy, I thought.
I looked up Jorja Curtright’s credits. They were formidable. She had appeared in television, motion pictures, and on Broadway. She had just starred as Stella on a road tour of the Broadway hit A Streetcar Named Desire. The reviewers were ecstatic.
The New York Times said, “As ‘Stella,’ Jorja Curtright is superb—energetic and decisive in her analysis of the part and glowing with warmth, pity and understanding.”
She had also gotten great reviews for the movie Whistle Stop and a dozen important television shows.
I telephoned Jorja the next morning and invited her to dinner. She said, “I’m sorry, I’m busy.”
I telephoned her for the next four days and got the same answer.
On the fifth day, I called and said, “I’m giving a dinner party Friday night. There are going to be a lot of important producers and directors here. I think it might be helpful for your career for you to meet them.”
There was a long, long pause. “All right.”
I had the feeling that she had accepted because the two of us were not going to be alone.
Now I had to begin putting together a dinner party with important producers and directors.
Somehow I managed to pull it off. A few of the producers and directors who were there had seen Jorja’s work and were very flattering.
When the evening was over I said to Jorja, “Did you enjoy yourself tonight?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
“I’ll drive you home.”