Peter Lawford met Marilyn in his agent’s office in 1951, when he was twenty-seven and she twenty-four. She was, he
said, such an “alarmingly pretty” girl that “it really made me sit up.” They
dated a few times that year, both alone and in foursomes. She was taken with
him, but he proved less than interested in her. She thought he might be gay.
But the truth was that Marilyn wasn’t Peter’s type. In an interview that same
year, Peter said, “There are many girls with long blond hair and sexy figures
whom men consider beautiful. But I don’t. To me a girl with a well-groomed
look, not the flamboyant type, but a quiet beauty who radiates health and vitality
is the greatest beauty of them all. I go for the typical college type, not
movie sirens.”
Peter was initially attracted to Marilyn because at that
time she did have a wholesome, down-to-earth side. But he was put off by the
Marilyn Monroe persona that she adopted publicly. They did date a few more
times, but a strange evening brought that chapter of their relationship to a
close. On one occasion Peter would never forget, he went to pick Marilyn up and
found two burly bodyguards standing on either side of her front door. They
asked him what he wanted. “I have a date with Miss Monroe,” he told them
warily.
“She’s not going out.”
“But I have a date with her!” Peter replied.
“Forget it. She’s staying here tonight.”
Peter sensed that he had better leave, but he called Marilyn
the minute he got home. “What the hell’s going on?” he asked her.
“It’s Howard Hughes,” Marilyn whispered. “I went out with
him and he’s so jealous that he won’t let me leave the house at night. I’m a
prisoner in my own home.”
Luckily for Marilyn’s freedom, the eccentric billionaire’s
attentions were soon diverted to other pretty starlets.
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