"Remarkable…simply amazing," he said, studying the man’s face intently. Dunning walked around him in a complete circle, appreciating the attention to every detail. He grinned broadly.
"Excellent work, Dr. Menlo," he said, tossing a manila envelope onto the table. Dr. Menlo opened it, glanced at the stacks of neatly tied bills, and nodded his head approvingly. "I think it’s the best work I’ve ever done," Dr. Menlo stated, smiling at Dunning. "I don’t think anyone would be able to tell the two apart."
The man in the chair stood up and smiled. "Allow me to introduce myself," he said. "My name is Jonathan Hart, and I own Hart Industries. I live at 3100 Willow Pond Drive in Bel Air. I am married to Jennifer, my wife of five years. I have a butler, Max, and a pet dog named Freeway."
Dunning smiled, a thick discharge of cigarette smoke escaping from his lips. "Very good, very good. Even the voice is perfect. From this moment on, you ARE Jonathan Hart. You will walk like him, talk like him, think like him, and act like him. You have done your homework, I presume?" The man nodded.
"Good…but just remember, you are not to have relations with Mrs. Hart, do you understand?" Dunning said, looking him straight in the eye.
"Aw, c’mon boss, let him have some fun while he’s on the job. He’s gonna be sharing the same bed with her for four weeks," Martin said, leaning back in his chair.
"No!" Dunning said angrily. "We cannot afford to have him impregnate her."
"She’s on the Pill anyway," Martin offered, winking at his colleague.
"The Pill is not one hundred percent fool-proof…and besides, you don’t know how Jonathan Hart behaves sexually. You must stick to what you have studied - what you know about him. If you deviate from our plan, you will blow your cover," Dunning said.
The man said nothing. Martin laughed, "Don’t ya think she’s gonna be suspicious when her husband doesn’t want to have sex with her for four weeks?"
"Listen," Dunning said, glaring at both men, "I don’t care what you have to do…feign an illness, work late hours, whatever you have to do. There is a lot of money at stake here. When this operation is completed, we will be very rich…very rich. You understand our agreement, don’t you?" The man nodded.
Martin shrugged. "You better take a lot of cold showers, man."
"Darling!" Jonathan called out, as he headed up the stairs to the bedroom. "I’m headed out," he said, finding Jennifer coming out of the shower. She wrapped a towel around herself and smiled at her husband.
"I’m going to miss you," she sighed. "Call me when you get to Boston, okay?"
Jonathan placed his hands on her damp shoulders and kissed her. Jennifer brought her arms up around his neck, her towel accidentally dropping to the floor. Jonathan looked down and groaned.
"I…uh..." he said.
"Yes?" she said, smiling.
He looked up into her eyes, and leaned down to kiss her again.
"You know, I have a little time to spare," he said.
"Well," she said seductively, "I’m not sure that I got completely clean. Would you mind stepping into the shower with me to check?"
Jonathan was undoing his tie before she had even finished her question. She helped him unbutton his shirt, and then stepped into the shower to start the water. Within seconds, Jonathan joined her. He held her waist and drew her close to him. Reaching for the soap, Jennifer brought her arms around him and began rubbing his back and buttocks. The steam of the shower made Jonathan’s breath hot and heavy. He nuzzled her neck, as her hands made their way around to his front, stroking him slowly. Jonathan groaned.
"Are you going to miss me?" she whispered breathlessly into his ear.
"I’ll think about you every night."
She smiled. "Just at night?" she said, her hands working faster.
Jonathan brought his arms around to her bottom. "And every day," he said, pressing her up against the shower wall.
"And?…" she purred, dropping the soap.
They stood face to face, their lips almost touching. "…and…," Jonathan said, smiling. Jennifer looked at him, waiting to hear the words she wanted to hear. He lifted her bottom slightly. "And in my dreams," he finished, thrusting himself into her. Jennifer’s muffled cry made him push himself deeper, wanting to reach inside her very soul.
"Oh, Jonathan," she cried, her body shuddering. His mouth took hers in a hungry kiss, as Jonathan bucked forward in one last release.
Jonathan’s plane touched down at Logan Airport later that evening. He was happy to see the Boston skyline from his window, just as the sun was setting. The Prudential Center building stood proudly in the center, saluting Jonathan’s arrival. He made a mental note to dine at his favorite restaurant, Tortellis, in the North End.
"We should be touching down in about ten minutes, Mr. Hart," his pilot said over his shoulder.
"Great," he answered, leaning back in his seat. His thoughts turned to Jennifer. He would only be gone for two days, but he was already missing her. If only she didn’t have the charity benefit to run, she would have been able to accompany him on the trip. The Tortelli brothers will be disappointed when he arrives alone, Jonathan thought. It just won’t be the same sitting at their favorite table.
Martin glanced up from his newspaper, looking at his watch. The man sat quietly in the back of the limousine, anxious to begin his assignment. Dunning drummed his fingers impatiently against the armrest. They had been circling the block, awaiting Jonathan’s arrival at the Ritz Carlton, for the past half-hour. Finally, they saw him emerge from another limousine, tip the driver and walk into the hotel.
"All right," Dunning sighed with relief. "Keep watch. He’ll be out in a while, looking for dinner. We’ll follow him. He’ll be going to Tortellis, I presume."
Dunning turned to his protégé, looking him over. "Let’s review our game plan while we’re waiting, shall we?"
"OK," he said.
"In Jonathan’s voice," Dunning commanded. "You need to be in character at all times."
"Yes, of course," he said, sounding every bit like Jonathan Hart. "I will be returning to the hotel this evening. Tomorrow morning at eight o’clock, I meet with Bill Stockton, CEO of Jemson Manufacturing to discuss the plant’s product line and schedule. I will discuss my unhappiness with recent quality control and production output. At three o’clock, I meet with Harry Sherman, VP of Marketing/East Coast division for Hart Toys to review next year’s product line. Dinner is on my own. Friday morning, I depart Boston at ten-thirty, arriving back in LA at one o’clock, Pacific Standard Time. Max will be picking me up at the airport."
Dunning nodded. "Exactly. And don’t forget that Max has been your father figure and protector for many years. Act warmly. Ask about Jennifer and Freeway. When you get back to the house, be affectionate, but not too affectionate," he said.
"Right," the man continued, "I will return to work at the LA office on Monday and call you from there. We will discuss our business plan then."
Martin leaned over from the front seat. "Ya sure Jennifer and Max aren’t going to suspect somethin’ different about him?"
"Jennifer will be too worried that he’s not feeling well, or she’ll be questioning his fidelity. Max is getting on in years, the old boy. He will question whether he’s losing his mind first," Dunning laughed wickedly. "The only one that we really have to worry about is Freeway. Sometimes you can’t fool an animal."
"Right, boss. What’s he gonna do if the mutt starts actin’ all crazy on him?" Martin asked.
"Jonathan may have to take Freeway for a drive…and Freeway may have a very unfortunate accident, the poor thing," Dunning said.
"Mr. Hart!" Sal Tortelli bellowed from across the room, his large figure at Jonathan’s side within seconds. "What?! No Jennifer?!" he said, a pained expression sliding across his handsome face.
Jonathan grinned. "Sorry, Sal, she had a children's benefit to run. She couldn't get anyway. But, she wanted me to tell you that she misses your Fra Diavolo."
"Ah, yes, the lovely Jennifer," Sal said, sighing heavily. "You must tell her to come back to visit soon," he said in his heavy Italian accent, "because Sal Tortelli needs some inspiration!"
"It's a promise," Jonathan said, patting his back.
"Okay, it looks like he's coming out. It's time, Martin," Dunning said, watching through the window intently.
Martin put on his cap and opened the door. He walked to the sidewalk.
"Mr. Hart?" he asked. Jonathan turned.
"Yes?" he answered.
"Mr. Hart, your regular limo driver had a flat tire. The hotel asked me to pick you up and bring you back."
Jonathan nodded and grinned. "Sure, thank you."
Martin walked to the car and opened the door. The man quickly exited from the opposite door, keeping his face from Jonathan’s view. Sliding into the seat, Jonathan watched the man disappear onto the street, noticing that he was wearing the exact same suit.
Jonathan smiled at the stranger in the car. "Hello. I guess we’re traveling together. Are you staying at the Ritz Carleton too?" he said amicably.
Dunning nodded, an evil grin spreading across his smoke-stained lips. Martin started the car and began driving through the city.
"Have you ever eaten at Tortellis? It’s a great place," Jonathan asked, trying to make small talk. Dunning shook his head, as Martin made his way to the on-ramp of the interstate. Puzzled, Jonathan tapped the glass between him and the driver.
"I think you missed my stop," he chuckled.
Dunning took his hand out from his coat pocket revealing a .38 caliber pistol. "No, we haven’t, Mr. Hart."
Jonathan stared at the gun. "I think you’ve got me confused with someone else," he said, seriously.
Dunning smiled wickedly. "We’re counting on it."
"Max?" Jennifer called into the kitchen. "Did Jonathan call?"
"No, Mrs. H, he didn’t," Max said, locking the back door. "I called his hotel earlier though, and they said he arrived and had gone out to dinner."
"Oh, good," Jennifer said glumly. "Thanks, Max. He must have been tired after his flight. I guess I’ll head up to bed now." She turned and headed slowly out of the room.
Freeway barked up at Max. "Yeah, I know, that’s not like him, huh?"
"What is going on?" Jonathan asked. "Where are we going?"
They had been traveling in silence for almost two hours, headed north on interstate 95. Dunning kept the gun pointed at him, as Jonathan tried to pry information, to no avail. He looked out his window just as they were passing the sign Welcome to Maine: The Way Life Should Be.
"We’re almost there. Just stay cool and do as I say," Dunning suddenly spoke. Jonathan studied his face, noting his pinched expression. He had to remain calm and rational, for he knew that someone like Dunning could snap and kill him in an instant.
Martin turned off the highway and drove another thirty minutes through dimly lit country roads, finally arriving at a large farmhouse. It appeared to Jonathan to be uninhabited. They drove around the back. Martin opened the door and secured Jonathan’s hands behind his back with handcuffs. Jonathan took one last look at his surroundings, as Martin then blindfolded him. Tugging his arm to get out of the car, Dunning led him into the farmhouse. Led through a series of rooms, and then down a narrow staircase, Jonathan could smell the mustiness of damp soil beneath his feet. Pushing him down into a chair, Dunning yanked off his blindfold. Jonathan looked around at the sparse room.
"Is this some kind of bomb shelter? Jonathan wondered aloud, looking at the canned food lining the walls and the pile of blankets on the floor.
"Very good, Jonathan," Dunning replied, motioning to Martin to handcuff him to the chair. Jonathan sat complacently.
"So, we’re here…maybe you can fill me in on what you want?" Jonathan said calmly.
Martin laughed and looked at his boss.
"We’ve got what we want…you," Dunning smiled and lit up a cigarette.
"I don’t get it," Jonathan replied. "Is it money you want?"
"Yes, you could say that."
"How much? I could make some phone calls… in exchange for my freedom, of course," Jonathan said.
Dunning laughed again. "Thank you for the offer, Jonathan, but I think we’ve got the situation well in hand."
Jonathan furrowed his brow, trying to make sense of it all. He had a gnawing feeling that something was terribly wrong.
Jennifer picked at the lettuce leaves on her salad plate. It was seven o’clock, and still no word from Jonathan.
"Hey, Mrs. H," Max said, pouring her some coffee, "why don’t you call him."
"Yeah, I will, Max," she said. "His meetings probably ran late."
Suddenly, the phone rang. Jennifer’s face brightened. "I’ll get it," she said, smiling.
"Hello?"
"Hello, Jennifer," Jonathan’s voice said into the phone.
Jennifer sighed. "Darling, I’ve missed you. How’s Boston?"
The man nervously twisted the phone cord, hoping that he sounded natural. He had thought about this phone call all day, and finally hearing her voice made him break out into a sweat. "I’ve missed you too. Boston is great, but not the same without you," he said.
"Aw," Jennifer cooed into the phone. She loved hearing his voice on the phone when he was away. She had to admit to herself that it still made her knees weak. "Have you caught a cold? Your voice sounds a little funny."
The man gave a small cough, his pulse quickening. "I think I may have," he lied.
"Well," she whispered seductively, "when you get home, I’ll be happy to nurse you back to health."
The man swallowed hard. "Yes….Max is going to pick me up at the airport?" he asked, changing the subject.
"Yes, and I should be home early tomorrow, so we can have a nice romantic dinner. I’ll have Max pick up some oysters," she said playfully.
He laughed nervously. "I’ve got to get some sleep now. I’ll see you tomorrow, darling."
"Okay…I love you," she said quietly.
The man hesitated. "I love you too," he blurted out, and then hung up.
Jennifer put the phone down slowly, her mind dismissing the awkwardness of his words. He must have jet lag, she thought.
The man sat quietly reading the LA Times, as Max drove him home in the Bentley. It had been an awkward meeting, seeing Max for the first time. Even though he had seen pictures of Max and knew their pasts, he was not prepared for the obvious camaraderie that Jonathan and Max enjoyed. He did his best to ask the right questions and laugh at Max’s jokes, but he still felt ill at ease. Max sensed his discomfort.
"You O.K., Mr. H?" he asked. Drenched in California sunshine, they traveled along freeway, the Santa Ana winds blowing in their face. On the contrary, the man was basking in the beautiful west coast climate – a relief from the dreadful New England winters. He was definitely going to enjoy his four weeks, living the life of a rich man, even if it meant putting up with awkward conversation.
"I’m fine, Max. Just a little tired from the trip, I suppose. Is Mrs. H going to be home when we get there?" he asked, remembering Max’s pet name for her.
"Yeah, she re-arranged her scheduled, so she should be there. She missed you a lot, Mr. H. I mean, she always does, but this time, she really felt like you were far away. I don’t know. I can’t describe it, but anyway…we’re happy to have you back," Max said, smiling.
"Thanks, Max," he answered.
It had been twenty-four hours, and Jonathan still did not know why he was being detained. He had figured out that the younger man, Martin, was working for Dunning, and that there was another man involved – someone important to the plan, although the two men only made vague references to him. They seemed to be waiting to hear from him. Dunning also was pre-occupied with reading the business section of the Wall Street Journal. This must have something to do with Hart Industries, he thought, but what, he did not know.
Jonathan could not complain about his treatment, aside from the fact that he remained handcuffed, either to the chair or bed, depending on the time of day. They had brought him a good meal, which he ate heartily. He figured he may need every bit of sustenance, not knowing what the future held.
"You know, my wife is going to be worried when I don’t come home…you know how wives are," Jonathan joked. "Maybe I could call her and let her know I’m all right. I’ll just tell her that I needed to stay for…what, a couple more days?"
Dunning looked up from his paper, while Martin let out a snort. "Hey, she’s only going to call the police if I’m missing. I’m just trying to save you guys the worry," Jonathan said, shrugging at the men’s obvious indifference.
"Thanks for your concern," Dunning said smoothly, "but I don’t think your wife is going to be worried." Martin laughed and winked at Dunning.
Jonathan’s expression grew dim. The sudden thought that Jennifer could be in danger made his gut wrench. Perhaps this other man was sent to capture her…or - he couldn’t even finish the thought.
"Listen, I don’t know what you two are up to, but I’d like to be clued in. If it’s money you want, I can have whatever you need delivered, wherever you want it. I can forget this whole incident happened, as long as my wife is safe."
"Calm down, Mr. Hart," Dunning said through clenched teeth, "I will let you know if I need anything from you. Rest assured that your wife is in no danger." He looked over at Martin, who was picking his teeth with a matchbook cover.
"Martin, go out and get Jonathan some magazines and a radio. He’s going to need something to keep his mind occupied."
The tremendous gates to their Bel Air home swung open, as Max delivered them to their front door. The man stepped out of the Bentley and breathed in the sweet smell of eucalyptus in the air. Smiling, he walked up to the door and entered, with Max following behind with his luggage. He was impressed with the Hart home – it was just like the pictures he had studied, but it was much homier than he had imagined. He heard footsteps coming from the kitchen and looked up. It was Jennifer.
"Darling," she gushed, walking over to him, her floral silk dress smoothly hugging her feminine curves.
If he had not been prepared for the reality of meeting Max in person, he was completely taken aback with Jennifer. Although he had looked at dozens of pictures of her, they had hardly done her justice. It wasn’t just the gracefulness in her step, the gorgeous auburn mane, or her beguiling almond eyes. He was mesmerized by her glow, by the incredible vibrations he felt just standing next to her.
Jennifer wrapped her arms around his neck and brought her lips to meet his.
"Hey, you…you look like you’ve forgotten who I am," she said, giving a throaty giggle.
He could not take his eyes from her, nor take his arms from her waist. Suddenly, he remembered Dunning’s grave warning, and retreated.
"You look lovely, darling," he said, clearing his voice.
"You do have a cold," she said, concerned. "Why don’t you go upstairs and take a hot shower. Max will make you some soup. I’ll come up and give you a back rub. How does that sound?" she said, her eyes twinkling.
He nodded. "That sounds good," he said, "but I’m really tired. I think after the shower, I’ll take a nap." In all honesty, her idea sounded better.
Martin emptied a large brown paper bag onto the table in front of him. Jonathan watched as several magazines slid across the table, among them a handful of candybars and a walkman. Martin picked up the magazines that had fallen from the table and placed them in front of Jonathan.
"I got you Time, Newsweek, and Money…and Penthouse," he chuckled, opening one of the candybars.
Jonathan looked away uninterested. He was growing weary of his situation, unable to figure out what they wanted. His legs were now cuffed to the table legs and one arm remained cuffed to the chair. Jonathan lowered his head into his one free hand and thought about how he could escape.
It was ten o’clock in the evening, when the man heard Jennifer coming into the bedroom. He had lay in bed for most of the day, only going downstairs for dinner. He hadn’t anticipated how unnerved he would be around her. At least he could use jet lag as his excuse tonight. One night at a time, he thought, one night at a time.
He could hear her in the adjoining room, getting ready for bed. Keeping his eyes closed, he turned away from her side of the bed, hoping she would just turn in for the night.
Jennifer quietly folded the bedcovers back and slipped under the sheets. He could smell her perfume, as she snuggled up to him, her breasts pressing against his back. She brought her arm around his waist and kissed the back of his neck.
"Are you sleeping?" she whispered. He lay still, and then grunted as if he just barely heard her, hoping she would get the hint. She nudged him.
"I missed you," she purred into his ear. Jennifer began unbuttoning her nightshirt and tossed her pajamas onto the floor. The man’s pulse quickened, just knowing that she was naked. He wondered what she looked like, what she felt like, but pushed the thoughts from his mind.
"Honey, I’m really tired…and I’m not feeling well," he finally offered. He didn’t know any other way out.
Jennifer frowned. "Okay, darling, you’ll have to forgive your lustful wife. She’s been without her Knight in Shining Armor for two nights," she laughed and rubbed his back. "I think I’m going to have to put you on a diet. Feels like you put on a few pounds in Boston." Sighing, she leaned over the bed and picked up her nightshirt.
The man spent the entire weekend nursing an undefined illness – one that he found effective in keeping Jennifer at bay. She doted on him, as did Max. But, the most difficult problem did turn out to be Freeway, just as Dunning had warned him. Every time the dog came into the same room, it growled fiercely at him. Jennifer was puzzled, but excused his behavior by claiming that he was not used to seeing Jonathan laid up on the couch, not giving him attention. He was glad that tomorrow morning was Monday and that he would be going into the office. Dunning would be pleased with his performance so far.
Jennifer came over to the couch where he sat reading the paper, looking at the stock report. He noted that Dunco Manufacturing’s stock was barely hanging on at ten dollars per share. That would soon change, he mused.
"How are you feeling," Jennifer said, putting her hand on his forehead.
"Doing better, thanks," he smiled weakly. She looked at his face closely, wondering what seemed different about her husband. She couldn’t put her finger on it.
"Good…boy, you must have picked up a nasty bug when you were away. It’s really taken a lot out of you," she said, rubbing his arm gently.
He looked into her eyes that were so filled with compassion. He had never been with a woman so lovely, so gentle…so there. His whole life had been spent with cheap women, the kind that were there to perform their work, always knowing the right things to say, the right moves to make. What he had missed – what he didn’t know until now – was the company of a woman who wanted to be with him. He wanted to reach out and touch her face, smell her hair, but he was afraid of where his emotions would take him. For now, he would follow Dunning’s plan. But, perhaps, the plan could be altered – perhaps he could remain Jonathan Hart, even after his mission was completed.
