Read Online You Have No Idea: A Famous Daughter, Her No-Nonsense Mother, and How They Survived Pageants, Hollywood, Love, Loss by Vanessa Williams, Helen Williams - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Vanessa Williams, Helen Williams
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much. I could trust him because he had my best interest at heart.
He could also weed out the opportunists. The bullshit deals. He was convinced that, in time, I could get past the Miss America stigma and have the successful career I was meant to have.
I needed a break. All the other money offers had disappeared. I lost a ten-year promotional contract with Gillette. My Diet Coke commercial stopped airing. Kellogg’s pulled off the shelves boxes of Corn Flakes with my picture on them. All in all, I lost about twomillion dollars in endorsements and countless other offers that would have come my way when I finished my reign.
There were a lot of insane offers, though. Cheesy shit. Ramon and I would laugh. I was asked to play the lead in a film called Satan and Eve.
No thanks.
Thunder Women ?
No.
Days and Night in Los Angeles ?
No.
Another producer approached me with the concept of starring in my own life story.
NO!
There were many fictional projects proposed just to get me into a meeting and check me out.
During my first year living in Manhattan, I got a call from Francine LeFrak, a producer friend. “Don’t tell anyone, but Robert De Niro wants to discuss a possible project where you would costar in a Broadway musical with him.” I was so excited. Starring with Robert De Niro? I didn’t even know he sang and danced. But I thought it would be fantastic.
She told me she’d pick me up at my apartment and drive me to his place in Tribeca for the evening meeting. I wore a big, thick turtleneck sweater with a long knit tube skirt and boots. I was desperate to be taken seriously and hide any distractions. He was every bit a gentleman, offering me a drink while we sat on his deck under the downtown sky.
“You know, when I was young, I took nude photos, too,” he told me. Well, we have that in common , I thought. But I really didn’t want this meeting to revolve around my naked pictures.
“Tell me about the musical,” I asked.
He was like, “Yeah, yeah, we’ll get to it later. Tell me about yourself.”
Details were vague. We sat there, making small talk. I tried to press him for more info: “What’s the musical about? Who else are you considering?” He’d mentioned that it was an idea but nothing was definite yet. He was the ultimate in downtown cool.
But I also knew that my new flame, Ramon, was waiting for me in my apartment. There wasn’t a musical. But if this was a chance to get hit on by De Niro, I choked.
“You should go into solo recording,” Ramon said one day. “We could forge an identity, an image for you that way. If we fail, you can always go back to trying to make it as an actress. If we succeed, you’ll have an image beyond being a dethroned Miss America. You’ll have fans. You’ll have a career. Don’t wait around for the perfect movie role or the perfect Broadway show because it could take a long, long time, if it ever comes at all.”
I kept saying, “It will happen. It will all work out. I just know it.” My plan had always been to get on Broadway as soon as possible—not wait until I was established as a singer.
Ramon said I was in denial. I saw him as Eeyore, the pessimistic donkey in Winnie the Pooh .
“I’m not a pessimist—I’m a realist,” he would respond. “Solo recording is your way to make a name for yourself on your terms.”
But through all of this uncertainty, I could count on our growing love and I could handle my relationship and family on my own. I was the boss of me. And I was free to love.
Ramon admitted he had feelings for me, too. “But I don’t date my clients,” he said. Handling the Miss America debacle had been a great opportunity for him, as he was already well-known as a celebrity publicist in Los Angeles. But this scandal had put him on everyone’s radar.
“Everything I do right now will come under a microscope,” he said. “If I start dating my client, I’ll lose all credibility.”
I understood. Here was this older guy who
He could also weed out the opportunists. The bullshit deals. He was convinced that, in time, I could get past the Miss America stigma and have the successful career I was meant to have.
I needed a break. All the other money offers had disappeared. I lost a ten-year promotional contract with Gillette. My Diet Coke commercial stopped airing. Kellogg’s pulled off the shelves boxes of Corn Flakes with my picture on them. All in all, I lost about twomillion dollars in endorsements and countless other offers that would have come my way when I finished my reign.
There were a lot of insane offers, though. Cheesy shit. Ramon and I would laugh. I was asked to play the lead in a film called Satan and Eve.
No thanks.
Thunder Women ?
No.
Days and Night in Los Angeles ?
No.
Another producer approached me with the concept of starring in my own life story.
NO!
There were many fictional projects proposed just to get me into a meeting and check me out.
During my first year living in Manhattan, I got a call from Francine LeFrak, a producer friend. “Don’t tell anyone, but Robert De Niro wants to discuss a possible project where you would costar in a Broadway musical with him.” I was so excited. Starring with Robert De Niro? I didn’t even know he sang and danced. But I thought it would be fantastic.
She told me she’d pick me up at my apartment and drive me to his place in Tribeca for the evening meeting. I wore a big, thick turtleneck sweater with a long knit tube skirt and boots. I was desperate to be taken seriously and hide any distractions. He was every bit a gentleman, offering me a drink while we sat on his deck under the downtown sky.
“You know, when I was young, I took nude photos, too,” he told me. Well, we have that in common , I thought. But I really didn’t want this meeting to revolve around my naked pictures.
“Tell me about the musical,” I asked.
He was like, “Yeah, yeah, we’ll get to it later. Tell me about yourself.”
Details were vague. We sat there, making small talk. I tried to press him for more info: “What’s the musical about? Who else are you considering?” He’d mentioned that it was an idea but nothing was definite yet. He was the ultimate in downtown cool.
But I also knew that my new flame, Ramon, was waiting for me in my apartment. There wasn’t a musical. But if this was a chance to get hit on by De Niro, I choked.
“You should go into solo recording,” Ramon said one day. “We could forge an identity, an image for you that way. If we fail, you can always go back to trying to make it as an actress. If we succeed, you’ll have an image beyond being a dethroned Miss America. You’ll have fans. You’ll have a career. Don’t wait around for the perfect movie role or the perfect Broadway show because it could take a long, long time, if it ever comes at all.”
I kept saying, “It will happen. It will all work out. I just know it.” My plan had always been to get on Broadway as soon as possible—not wait until I was established as a singer.
Ramon said I was in denial. I saw him as Eeyore, the pessimistic donkey in Winnie the Pooh .
“I’m not a pessimist—I’m a realist,” he would respond. “Solo recording is your way to make a name for yourself on your terms.”
But through all of this uncertainty, I could count on our growing love and I could handle my relationship and family on my own. I was the boss of me. And I was free to love.
Ramon admitted he had feelings for me, too. “But I don’t date my clients,” he said. Handling the Miss America debacle had been a great opportunity for him, as he was already well-known as a celebrity publicist in Los Angeles. But this scandal had put him on everyone’s radar.
“Everything I do right now will come under a microscope,” he said. “If I start dating my client, I’ll lose all credibility.”
I understood. Here was this older guy who
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