Jordan keyed the mike again. You can call. But, nobodys going to fly in this.
Why? Jeffrey demanded.
Why? Didnt they have windows up in Katimuk? There was a good foot of new snow on the ground in Alpine, and more was gusting from the sky.
Weathered in is weathered in, said Jordan, shooting Wally a look of amazement. What part of blizzard didnt Jeffrey understand?
Wally grinned. Hed made a big deal yesterday about how this Jeffrey guy looked exactly like Jordan. And Jordan had to admit there was a bit of a resemblance. But he was beginning to hope that was all they had in common.
Jordan released the mike button. Please tell me Im his double in looks only.
Wally just grinned wider.
The radio stayed silent.
Jordan keyed the mike again. Nobody will risk an aircraft, he elaborated, trying not to let the frustration come through in his voice. And Im sure you dont want to risk your life. Stick with Cyd. She knows what shes doing. Shell get you out as soon as possible.
Let me get this straight, said Jeffrey. Your pilot could have landed me in Arctic Luck, but she flew me to Katimuk instead?
Wally rolled his eyes and started to chuckle at the absurdity of the questions.
She landed where she felt the plane and passengers would be safe, said Jordan. Be thankful youre alive, he almost added. Be it Katimuk or Timbuktu, safe on the ground was safe on the ground.
Bull, Jeffrey barked.
Charming, said Wally.
And nothing like me, said Jordan.
THERE WAS NOTHING even remotely funny about that, was there? Ashley let her head fall back in defeat on the couch in her small Westwood apartment.
Rachel clicked a button on the remote control, turning off the last video clip for the detective series, and the television screen went blank.
Not particularly, she admitted.
They were going to have to reshoot every clip.
What if Detective Moonie is older, more worldly-wise, jaded Ashley searched her brain for possibilities. Their original idea was definitely not going to fly as comedic.
If hes older, well lose the buff bod, said Rachel. Pecs sell. You know that. She stood up and stretched her arms above her head, moving immediately into a graceful toe touch.
So do tight butts, Ashley pointed out. Could we have an older, worldly-wise detective with a great butt?
Rachel straightened, pulled down her cropped T-shirt and laughed. I can see it all now, Detective Moonie, health club maniac, near retirement and just in from the mean streets of New York, decides to take a part-time gig as a lifeguard, faces danger, thrills and jokes while chasing bikini-clad women along Malibu Beach.
Okay, the butt would be tough to do on an old guy. What if we make him younger? But a geeky, unattractive man whos fawned over by gorgeous women. Then were sure to nail the eighteen to thirty-five-year-old male demographic.
The basic premise behind all of your finer adult films. Rachel crossed to the small kitchen. Got any wine in here?
In the fridge door, said Ashley. Maybe we make him gay.
Oh, yeah, now thatll nail a broad demographic.
I think women like gay men.
As friends, sure. But not as a buff butt fantasy on their television screens. Rachel popped the cork on the wine bottle.
Our demographic is men, anyway, said Ashley. Hey. What if Detective Moonie is an aging, hardboiled, uptight eastern kind of guy, and his new protégé is a gay, laid-back, California beach boy.
Rachel stopped, midpour. Her eyes narrowed. That could be funny.
Ashley quirked an eyebrow. Couldnt it, though? Fish out of water? The women in the episodes would all be attracted to the gay guy, but end up lusting after the older guy with experience.
Think we could get Sean Connery for the older man? asked Rachel.
You and I are definitely on the same wavelength. Ashley curled her legs under her on the couch, her synapses starting to hum.
YJ17546, TRUE NORTH AIRLINES answering, Wally said into the mike of the radio phone.
Jordan glanced through the office window as Wally hung a suit jacket on the coat hook in the reception area. The coat sure didnt look like Wallys style.
One of Jordans other pilots was also out in reception, busy explaining the afternoon flight delay to six Japanese tourists. Jordan had arranged a free nights stay for them in a local hotel, and the interpreter was passing along the news.
Meanwhile, four cameras clicked away, the occasional flash reflecting off the posters on the walls.
I dont think you understand just how serious this situation has become, came an all too familiar voice over the radio.
Jordan caught Wallys gaze through the open window, then he shook his head and pretended to bang it three times against the office wall.
Say again? said Wally into the mike.
I need, need to be in L.A. by the end of the day. Do you understand that? Jeffreys voice rose. Theres almost two feet of snow up here, you have all my credit cards and I have to get to L.A.
Im afraid the snow has grounded all of our flights again today, said Wally. What credit cards?
In my coat. The pilot put me in some kind of giant parka but then left my coat behind. What kind of an outfit is this?
The parkas a necessity in the Cessna. And, I can assure you, your credit cards are perfectly safe, said Wally evenly, taking down the suit jacket and putting it in his lap.
Oh, boy. Jordan made a mental note to lock Jeffreys coat and credit cards up in his office. He also figured hed better write a memo regarding passengers personal effects. Not that anyone had left their clothing behind before. Well, except for the bra in the Cessna that one time.
And, I understand your frustration, Wally continued smoothly. I truly wish I had an easy solution.
Jordan was going to make Wally employee of the month.
And, I truly wish you understood the problem! Jeffrey snapped back.
Wally held the mike toward Jordan, an invitation to take over clearly written on his face.
The tourists watched the exchange with interest, cameras poised in case something interesting happened.
Jordan signaled that Wally should keep talking. He was doing a terrific job.
Wally shrugged philosophically, then mouthed watch this to Jordan.
So, why dont you explain it to me? Wally said to Jeffrey. He held up the brochure from the Department of Tourism, pointing to bullet point number five: Let the customer vent when necessary. Ensure you show empathy before giving him any negative message.
Jordan gave Wally a thumbs-up.
I have an important meeting in L.A. at eleven oclock Monday morning, Jeffrey articulated in a staccato rhythm. If Im not at that meeting, I will lose my promotion, and most certainly lose the Alaska television series.
Theres going to be a television series in Alaska? asked Wally, his voice betraying a sudden interest.
Not if I stay stuck in Katimuk, theres not.
What kind of a television series?
The camera clicking stopped, and the Japanese tourists all bowed to the pilot before filing back out to the bus. A couple took final shots of Wally talking on the radio.
It would have been called Sixty Below, a comedy about the lives and loves of the people in Arctic Luck, said Jeffrey.
Would. Note the word would, he continued. I never did get to Arctic Luck, strike one. I cant take pictures of anything in the blizzard, strike two. And I cant get to the pitch meeting tomorrow, strike three.
Cant you pitch it by phone? asked Wally as the door swung shut behind the interpreter. The pilot headed for the hangar.
Pitch what? asked Jeffrey. Ive never even seen the town. And, no, its not something you do by phone. I need pictures, drawings, storyboards.
Of Arctic Luck.
No. Of San Diego. Of course of Arctic Luck.
Wally glanced at the wall of the office.
Jordan followed his gaze to the collage on the bulletin board. Sure enough, there were pictures of Arctic Luck, along with every other community in interior Alaska.
Ifuhsomebody else went to the meeting, with pictures and diagrams, could you tell them what to say?
Wally was offering to go to L.A.? Was he crazy?
Wont work, said Jeffrey.
Why not?
They wont take the pitch from anybody but me.
Jordan strolled into the reception area and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest, trying to figure out what Wally was thinking. Sure, he could take a four-wheel drive into Anchorage. The jumbo jets were still taking off near the coast. But, what the heck did Wally think he could do in L.A.?
What if it was you? asked Wally.
Jordan waved his hands and shook his head frantically. Making promises you couldnt keep was definitely against the Department of Tourisms wallet-card advice.
Youre sending a plane? came Jeffreys hopeful voice.
No. Im sending Jordan.
Jordan?
Jordan?
My boss. The guy who looks just like you.
Jordans flying up here?
Jordans not flying anywhere.
Nope. We send Jordan to L.A.
What? Jordans sharp exclamation matched Jeffreys.
Holy cow, said Wally. Even your voices sound the same.
Im not going to L.A., said Jordan, moving toward the radio.
Thats ridiculous, said Jeffrey.
He looks just like you, said Wally into the microphone. He pointed to the graph on the wall showing the customer satisfaction ratings.
The static crackled on the radio. Its not
He does, came Cyds voice in the background.
Jordans eyes narrowed.
Put your money where your mouth is, Wally said to Jordan. If you hurry, youll be back in time for your birthday.
Jordan started to protest, but he quickly realized he didnt need to say a thing. Jeffrey would put a stop to this. Jordan could just stand here and pretend to go along for the sake of customer satisfaction. Hed be putting his money where his mouth was, without actually having to pay up. Perfect.
Sure, said Jordan easily, enjoying the role of customer service white knight. Anything for customer satisfaction.
We give him a haircut, said Wally into the mike, with a thumbs-up to Jordan. You tell him exactly what to say. He goes to the meeting, then flies back home.
Never in a million years, said Jeffrey.
You got a better idea? asked Wally.
Fly up here and get me, said Jeffrey.
No can do. Tell me, whats the worst that would happen if Jordan tried and failed?
The series is dumped, and my career is ruined.
What will happen if you dont make the meeting?
The series gets dumped, and my career is ruined.
What are the odds of success?
Ten percent.
Thats ten percent better than weve got going for us now. Wally pointed to another bullet point on the departments brochure: Take the customers problem on as your own.
Now Wally decided to become Mr. Customer Service Guru. Jordan waited for Jeffreys vehement dismissal of the whole idea. Jordan in L.A. trying to pretend he was some hot damn television executive? As if.
We have pictures of Arctic Luck, said Wally into the silent radio.
Good ones? asked Jeffrey.
Great ones, said Wally.
There was a long silence. Jordan blinked in confusion. Where was the supercilious, unreasonable man from yesterday? He should be coming back with an angry retort about fixing the weather, telling Wally what a ridiculous, unworkable
First thing he needs to know is the org chart, said Jeffrey.
Jordan stumbled a step back, his eyes widening.
Theres a copy of last years annual report in the right-hand, top drawer of the desk in my condo. Keys to the condo are in my coat pocket.
2
THE FIRST PERSON Jordan met in L.A. was Jeffreys friend and former co-worker, Rob Emery. Nice guy. A whole lot nicer than Jeffrey seemed, in fact.
Jeffrey had explained the impersonation to Rob, and Rob had offered to help in any way he could.
Theyd stayed up all night reviewing the basic makeup of Argonaut Studios and the delivery of a presentation for the television series Jeffrey had planned.
Jordan didnt get any sleep, but by morning he was armed with sketches, descriptions of scenes, outlines of the series characters and pictures of Arctic Luck for the locationall in living color. Rob, now a documentary filmmaker, definitely seemed to know what he was doing, and Jordan felt confident he could describe Jeffreys television series proposal to the Board members.
In fact, he thought it would be a very funny show. Stereotypical Alaska stuff, of course, but exactly what residents of the lower forty-eight would expect in a comedy series from the north.
The grizzly bear sequence in episode two was preposterous. The bears were still in their dens at Easter, and no one could get that close without having their head taken off. But, if the audience was willing to suspend their disbelief, he could see the humor.
He straightened the stack of packages that were ready to be handed out to the Board members. Jeffreys efficient secretary, Bonnie Greenbough, had copied and stapled them together over the past hour.
She seemed delighted to have Jeffrey back. Shed probably be even more delighted when the real Jeffrey arrived and didnt brush off her friendly overtures with excuses about being busy. She seemed like a perfectly nice woman, and Jordan felt guilty avoiding conversations with her.
But he had to keep his head down and his mouth shut, and try not to make any mistakes. There were more people on one floor of the Argonaut office building than in the entire town of Alpineand they all seemed to know exactly what they were doing. Unlike Jordan, who could barely find the rest room.
He was tiptoeing through a minefield.
His office door opened, and he glanced up, hoping it was Bonnie.
It wasnt.
A drop-dead gorgeous, nattily dressed, perfectly made-up woman strolled through the doorway and snapped the door shut behind her, pausing to lean against it. Well, well, well, she drawled. The prodigal returns.
Jordan pushed back in his chair and watched the woman saunter across the large office. Ashley Baines. In the flesh.