With only a couple of hours before meeting Annette and Frank at the Sands, I went to my apartment and took a quick bubble bath. I wanted to smell, feel, and taste sweet that night. I took more time than usual, putting on my eyelashes and getting into the dress. I was a thousand points of light in my dim apartment. I was ready! I popped two diet pills and headed out.
I headed straight for the Regency Lounge where I was to meet Annette. She wasn’t there yet, so I found an open table near the bar and ordered a cocktail. To the right I could see a crowd gathering around a roped-off area in the lounge. There was a lot of noise and laughing. I spotted Annette at about the same time she spotted me. She motioned for me to join her, but I couldn’t move. She must have seen my panic because she pushed her way through the crowd and joined me at the bar.
“Let’s go to the ladies room and I’ll fix your makeup,” she said.
I went, happy to stall the inevitable.
When I told her how nervous I was, she reassured me. “Just relax, Janie. There are just a few of Frank’s friends over there. They won’t bite you. Frank’s at the tables. He’ll be back in a few minutes.”
That didn’t help much, but at least I was with someone who understood how I felt. She looked me over, making sure my hair and makeup were perfect. Then we walked back into the lounge, through the crowd and into the roped-off area. There, seated at a table, were Sammy Davis Jr. and Dean Martin. Annette introduced me as we joined them.
“Would you like a drink?” Dean asked.
“Yes,” I smiled, thinking to myself, “Boy, would I.” Pausing a moment, I replied, “I’d like scotch and water.”
After a few minutes, Frank walked in and sat down next to me. He was in his mid-forties, still dashing. Although I wasn’t usually physically attracted to older men, I was drawn to him from the start.
“Who’s this cute little doll?” Frank asked Annette.
“Frank, this is Jane Harvey.”
I smiled and said, “Hello.” That’s the only word I could muster. I felt faint and giddy, just like some star-struck teenager.
Frank kept looking at me out of the corner of his eye. When I looked at him, he winked and flirted with me. “You are such a pretty girl. Where are you from?”
“Fullerton, California. I’m just a hometown girl.”
“Well, I’ll bet your hometown misses you,” he said, laughing.
Frank and I talked quietly for a few minutes. I told him I once lived in Hawaii and he said he’d been there too and knew how nice the people there were. After a while I began to feel more comfortable. These men were just ordinary people, but happened to be famous and wealthy. I believed Frank and the boys would take good care of me and pay me well. How could I possibly go wrong being around them? And there would be other celebrities because of the shooting of Ocean’s 11. The Rat Pack shot the movie during the day at various locations in town and performed at the Sands at night.
I began to relax. The party girl was back.
Soon Frank excused himself to get ready for his first show. He did two shows a night, the second starting at midnight. “Can you come to the show?” he asked.
“Oh yes, I’ll be there if you want me to come!”
“You be there!” Frank winked as he walked from the table. I saw him give Annette a thumbs-up. Apparently I had passed Frank’s first inspection.
After more drinks in the lounge, Annette and I walked to the entrance of the Copa showroom to be seated front and center. Once again I was within a few feet of a performer singing directly to me.
Throughout Frank’s performance, when he came near my table he gazed into my eyes when he sang. Little did the audience know that I was there to make a ton of money off of him as my trick!
After the show Frank asked me to meet him backstage. We went up to his room, where I spent most of the night cuddled in his arms. But soon I thought he might need someone to make him feel better, and that’s when I gave him my famous blow job. He just loved me for doing that for him. I was the best; I knew how to make him scream.
In the morning I went back to my apartment with a fist full of money in my purse. I left him in bed.
Later that day, Frank called and asked me if I would stand in for one of the showgirls on stage.
“You can count on me Frank,” I told him.
“The gal is sick and can’t make it. I thought you’d be the perfect dame to take her place. Can you come down to the Sands now?” Frank asked.
“I’ll be right there,” I said.
I dressed in my pedal pushers and top and went to the Sands at eleven o’clock and met him by his dressing room. I followed him onto the stage where Dean, Sammy, Joey and Peter were standing. The stage director Jack Entrater had me get on my knees in front of the guys and hold one side of the cue card, while another showgirl held the other side.
The guys rehearsed the lines on the card, sometimes stumbling with the lyrics and laughing the whole time while they practiced their skit.
After a couple of hours, the stage director took the two of us backstage to the showgirls dressing area. He introduced me to the hairdresser and told her to fix me up for the show.
The hairdresser had me sit down in front of a mirror with lights. She had me remove my top and put a cover over my shoulders. After styling my hair, she pinned a matching hairpiece on to the back of my head. Afterwards, another lady applied make up and long eye lashes to my face.
Then the costume director had me put on a very tight, bathing suit-like outfit with long black gloves and sparkling expensive bracelets.
He had me stand in front of the mirror, and I was astonished at how beautiful I looked. The makeup artist said, “Now you look like a Copa showgirl.” All the praise, even from Frank, went to my head and I began to think that maybe I would be some day. But that dream would never come to be.
I waited backstage with the other showgirls and then it was our time to perform. The Copa lights were dim when we walked onto the stage in front of a packed room of people. I knelt down next to the set of cue cards and waited until the guys came on stage. I acted on cue when the time came to hold up the cards and watched the guys perform while they read from them.
When our job was done, the two of us joined the others backstage. Then at the end of the program, Frank had all of the showgirls back on the stage and together we walked down the stage stairs and into the audience, Frank holding my hand. The people clapped and enjoyed the spectacle as all of us walked around the tables.
After the first show, Dean, Sammy, Peter, Frank and I went to the bar for drinks. The next show was at midnight and we had some time to waste.
Just before the next show, Frank took me backstage and had my makeup refreshed. By now I was feeling no pain and I knew that Frank and the others were also well lit. Joey soon showed up and joined us on stage.
When the night ended, Sammy and Dean went to eat and Frank and I headed to his room for the night. We went around the world and he loved every moment of it.
Two days later, I joined Frank again in his suite at the Sands.
“You’re not going to believe who you’re going to meet tonight at the show,” Frank said as I watched him fix himself a drink.
“Who?”
“A real good buddy of mine from New York, Jilly Rizzo, and his wife, Honey. Jilly owns Jilly’s on Broadway in New York. I’ve known them for a long time. Come to the show tonight and I’ll have you sit with them. You’ll love them.”
“Okay. I better go home and get dressed.”
A few hours later I returned in a gorgeous red evening dress with matching shoes, lace gloves encircled with diamonds and my gold charm bracelet. Nick Kelly, maître d’ of the showroom, showed me to a table in front of the stage where Jilly, Honey, Annette, and another gentleman were sitting. Annette introduced me to Jilly, who had a pit-bull face and warm, gentle eyes, then to Honey, a woman who didn’t mince words. I sat down.
A few minutes later, the lights went down and the Rat Pack came o
ut on the stage to sing. Just before the end of the first song, the audience turned to the back of the room. I turned too and saw Marilyn Monroe standing in the doorway in a long white gown decorated with flashy beads. The very large Nick Kelly escorted Marilyn down the aisle to our table. She sat in a chair next to me with all eyes upon her. The Rat Pack seemed stunned but continued to sing.
When they finished, Frank introduced Marilyn. I thought she was beautiful, though a little fuller in the hips than I had imagined. Marilyn shook my hand as Jilly introduced her to me. She said, “Pleased to meet you, Janie,” in her wispy voice.
After the show, Marilyn stayed a few minutes to talk with Frank. Then she was escorted from the hotel.
Dean, Annette, Sammy, Frank, and I walked to the Regency Restaurant for dinner. We were seated in the center booth. Frank ordered everyone a shrimp cocktail, and we relaxed, sipping our drinks. No one bothered the celebrities when they were eating.
After dinner we went to Frank’s suite at the Sands. It had two bedrooms, a large sitting area and a wet bar, where we gathered as Frank played host. A big bowl of matchbooks sat on the living room floor. They were from restaurants, bars and casinos around the world. Frank smoked like a train, and he wanted cigarettes and a way to light them within reach at all times.
After a few drinks, Sammy and Dean went to their rooms and Frank dismissed George, his valet, for the night. That left Frank, Annette, and me. Frank invited us to join him in the bedroom.
“Let’s get comfortable, dolls,” he said as he sat on the bed and took off his shoes. Then he undid his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. He sat in a chair, holding his favorite drink, Jack Daniel’s. “Hey, we’re going to have us a little party! Annette, are you going to call those other broads?”
“Sure Frank, just a minute.” Annette steered me into the master bathroom and instructed: “Frank’s going to want to party now, Janie. You get ready. Wash up or take a shower if you want. Make sure you’re fresh. Fix up your makeup and your hair, and put on some perfume. Everything you need is in here. I’m going to call some girls and they’ll be here in a few minutes. Be ready when they get here.”
Within fifteen minutes there was a knock on the door and I heard her answer it. By then I had taken a shower and was dressed only in my panties, bra, black stockings, heels, and garter belt. When I came out of the bathroom, the party was just beginning.
There were now four other women in the suite—Laurie, Audrey, Patsy and Annette, each of them topless, wearing sexy panties and garter belts. At this point I had never met the others, but I learned later that they were some of the top hustlers in Las Vegas.
That night I learned that Frank loved seeing women making love to women, and he wanted to be right in the middle of it. He was in heaven. He took off his shirt and unzipped his pants, removed them, folded them carefully, and put them on the dresser. Now he wore only his briefs. “Come on over here Janie,” he said, motioning to the bed.
I lay down and Frank told the girls to kiss me all over. They did what he wanted. I didn’t know whether to scream, laugh, or what. This was the first time I had had sex with a woman, let alone four of them, and I was shocked and terribly nervous. Inside I felt reluctant, but I knew that if I was to be accepted, I had to go along. I had no idea celebrities wanted this kind of sex, but here I was, in the middle of an orgy with Frank Sinatra. I moaned and groaned but was not turned on at all. I was scared.
Frank stood at the side of the bed smiling, enjoying our performance, touching and feeling everything he could. I was trying to be cool and professional, but it was hard to detach from the scene. If that wasn’t enough, I was in for an even bigger surprise. From between the arms and legs of the girls, I got a good look at the real Italian stallion.
I gulped, “My God Frank, what am I supposed to do with that thing? Throw it over my shoulder and burp it?”
“I’ll show you what I want you to do with it.” He jumped into the orgy on the bed.
The girls were licking my legs and sucking my breasts and Frank said, “I’m going to lay beside you baby.”
I seemed to be at the center of the action. Everyone was making love to me. I was still a very young nineteen at this point. They were all much older. Frank got under my body and tried to put his penis in my rectum. I screamed and said, “Oh god—that hurt me!” Then I reached behind his neck and scratched him.
I jumped up and ran into the bathroom and began crying. He thought that because I was there with the other prostitutes, I wanted whatever he wanted.
Afterwards, Frank paid the girls and they left. Only Annette and I were still there with him. I jumped into the shower and scrubbed as hard as I could, trying to wash away the experience. I knew that to make as much money as I could I would have to go along with what my tricks wanted, but I never thought I would go this far.
After a few minutes, Frank came to the bathroom door. “Janie, are you okay? Are you coming out?”
“I’ll be right out Frank. Just give me another minute.” I dried off, put a towel around me, and touched up my makeup. I looked at myself in the mirror. “You’ve got to get back out there and be the person he wants you to be,” I told myself. I couldn’t lose sight of why I was doing this. I took two more diet pills and returned.
When I came out, Annette had gone, leaving just the two of us in the suite. Frank took me by the hand and led me to the bed. “You don’t look like you’re feeling too good honey. Why don’t you come on over here and cuddle up with me?”
I think he understood I was upset. I climbed in and lay on my side. Frank curled up beside me, spoon fashion, his arm around me, his hand holding my breast. In a few minutes he was sound asleep.
Late in the morning, Frank awoke turned on again. He really liked sex and pretty, young girls. I did my best to make him happy. When it was over, Frank lay back on the pillows with a big smile on his face. “Oh Janie, you’re the best. I don’t know who taught you how to do that, but I want you to thank him for me if you ever see him again.”
I just grinned and went to find my clothes. Frank dozed for a few minutes while I dressed. Then he got up and put on a robe. He walked me to the door, kissed me on the cheek, then put one arm around me and with the other hand he slipped a wad of bills into my bra.
“After the show, meet me in the Regency Lounge,” he said. “I want to see you again.”
I thanked him for the evening. He kissed me again, on the cheek. I never let men I was doing business with kiss me on the mouth. It was an unwritten rule of the profession.
I went out the door, excited that I was going to see him again. On the way to my car, I pulled out the wad of bills and counted my earnings. Frank was generous; I had made a haul.
Late that night I went back to the Sands to meet Frank. As I passed through the lounge I saw Sammy, Dean, and Annette seated at a table near the front. The area was roped off again. Small groups stood to the side watching them. Sammy waved to me to join them and as I sat down he ordered me a drink.
“Where you been, doll? Frank’s been asking about you,” he said.
“Oh I just had to take care of some things.” I wasn’t ready to explain that I had spent a good part of the day shopping for my daughters.
“Frank’s out in the casino. Let’s go harass his ass!” Dean said.
The four of us walked through the casino until we saw a huge crowd near the blackjack tables. People were straining to see over and around the crowd, laughing and yelling at something in the center. Dean pushed through the crowd. There was Frank, dealing blackjack to a group of five pleased and surprised customers. He was having a ball and acting crazy.
“Hey Frank, why don’t you get a real job?” Dean yelled. “They need someone at the craps tables.”
“Oh yeah? Then I’ll just move over there,” Frank returned. He looked over and waved. “Hey Janie, come on. Let’s play some craps.”
Frank handed the deck to the dealer, slipped him a chip or two, and walked toward the craps tables. We ca
ught up with him and he squeezed me as we tried to fight our way through the crowd that moved with us. By this time four or five security guards were holding people back so we could walk with no one bothering Frank, Dean, or Sammy.
The three of them were crazy at the table. Frank grabbed the stick from one of the stickmen and started doing his job. Sammy and Dean were cutting up, throwing hundred-dollar chips on the table, not caring where they landed. Frank pushed the dice with his stick before the roller even had a chance to roll the dice. The people around the table were going nuts. I could see the pit bosses gathering to one side, watching the action. I don’t think they were pleased.
Finally Frank tired of the play and handed the stick to the stickman. “Thanks buddy, we had a ball.” He handed over a couple of chips. “Now that you know how to do it, see to it that you do it right. Give these people a break,” he kidded.
The stickman smiled. “Thank you Mr. Sinatra. I’ll give it my best.”
“Let’s go have a drink,” Frank whispered in my ear, “At my place. I gotta get outta here. Come on doll.” Frank guided me back through the crowd as fast as he could. The guards cleared a path as we walked toward the exit. Sammy, Dean, and Annette disappeared.
The public and the press just wouldn’t leave Frank alone. They watched every move and constantly hounded him for autographs, interviews, and pictures. Frank sometimes lost his temper with photographers and reporters, his behavior almost always blown up in the media. Mostly bad things were printed about him, but he wasn’t a bad person. Frank just wanted to be himself, and he was frustrated by the constant attention.
When we got to his suite, Frank mixed me a drink and we relaxed for a while. Then he got horny again and asked me to take off my clothes. “I want to see those pretty boobs again,” he said, unfastening my bra.
Then Frank took off his clothes, and when he removed his briefs I could see I was going to be in for a stretch. I went into the bathroom to wash up. I put on a little perfume then took my diaphragm from its plastic case. I figured I might need it that night. When I came out, he half-dragged, half-carried me to the bedroom. We collapsed on the bed laughing.
Rat Pack Party Girl: From Prostitute to Women’s Advocate Page 10