Angela retreated back into her office, closing her door. Seated at her desk, she looked at the schedule. Most of the everyday issues of running each of the hospitals was delegated to the department supervisors, but they reported to their respective hospital presidents as well as to a department head in the Angels Healthcare home office, and those individuals in turn reported to Carl Palanco as the COO, and ultimately to Angela as the CEO. By perusing the schedule, Angela could gauge what the rest of the day would be like. She'd been booked to see the general counsel, most likely about the previous day's MRSA death and how to stave off a lawsuit; the risk-management committee chair for the same reason; and the patient safety committee chair. After that, she was to travel over to the Angels Orthopedic Hospital to attend the hospital medical staff meeting. The final scheduled meeting would be back at her office with Cynthia Sarpoulus, so that the infectious-disease professional could give Angela a briefing of what she had learned and what she had planned to do about the previous day's MRSA death.
Of all the meetings, the medical staff meeting was the most important. It would afford Angela a chance, at least at the orthopedic hospital, to impress on the doctors the vital importance of upping their patient census, despite the minor setback the Jeffries case represented. The only way the revenue stream would turn around is if the surgeons did surgery. Angela was aware more than anyone that the success of the specialty hospital depended exclusively on the doctor owners admitting their paying patients, meaning those patients with insurance, either private or Medicare, or those patients with adequate wealth. The specialty-hospital business as per Angela's business plan was not interested in Medicaid or charity cases, or, for that matter, any cases where cost might exceed revenue.
Angela's phone jangled under her arm. It was Loren, informing the boss that the CFO and COO had arrived.
"Send them in," Angela said, putting aside the afternoon schedule.
The two men, dramatic opposites in outward appearance and mannerism, came into the room. Carl Palanco bounded in, snatched one of the four modern straight-backed chairs from where it stood against the far wall, positioned it in front of Angela's desk, and sat himself down. His expression and constant motion suggested he'd had eight cups of coffee. In contrast, Bob Frampton moved as if in oil, and everything about his face suggested a desperate need for a good night's sleep. Yet despite their contrasting miens, Laurie knew them both to be equivalently clever and resourceful, which was why she had strenuously recruited them at the outset to be her key employees.
It took Bob long enough to move a chair next to Carl's that Angela had been tempted to leap up and do it for him. But she stayed in her seat, and the thought gave her insight into her own hyper state. She wondered if she appeared as high-strung as Carl.
"Anything happen this morning that I should know about, apart from the e-mails you men have sent me?" Angela asked, to start things off.
Carl looked at Bob. Both men shook their heads.
"I've met with the heads of supply, nursing, laundry, engineering, housekeeping, and laboratory services to talk about a deeper cut in expenses over the next few weeks," Carl said. "I've gotten some creative ideas."
"I applaud the initiative," Bob said, "but at this point, any efforts in that regard are too little too late, as far as the IPO is concerned."
"I'm afraid Bob is right," Angela said.
"I had to do something," Carl explained. "I couldn't just sit in my office and do nothing. And come what may, an emphasis on cost-consciousness is a good mind-set for our central department heads to have for the future. I mean, it's hardly wasted effort."
Angela nodded. Keeping a rein on expenses was particularly key for hospital profitability as holding companies of hospital chains had learned to great advantage over the last few decades. A large part of Angels Healthcare's profitability at least prior to the MRSA problem, was due to Angela's business plan of building three specialty hospitals at the same time and centralizing things like laundry supplies, housekeeping, engineering, laboratory services, and even anesthesia. Each hospital had a head, or chief, of these various services, but they all answered to the department head in the company's home office.
"How about your morning?" Bob asked Angela. "Any luck?"
"Marginal," Angela admitted. "As you mentioned last night, we're seriously drawn down on our credit at the bank after selling the bonds. The good news is that Rodger Naughton assured me he was not going to call any of our loans. The bad news is that he cannot authorize a loan without collateral, which I expected. On the other hand, he's sent the additional loan request up the ladder, but from his attitude, I think we have to assume it's a lost cause."
"What about your ex-husband?" Bob asked. As was the case with all the key employees, Bob was aware that their placement agent had been married to Angela but divorced a year before she founded Angels Healthcare. Although initially hesitant about the relationship, Bob had accepted it. He'd expressed a preference for a more direct relationship with a blue-ribbon investment bank, but had been won over by Michael Calabrese's ability to come up with an outstanding angel investor during their mezzanine round of raising capital.
"I was able to get him to commit another fifty thousand of his own money," Angela said. She did not mention how demeaning the meeting was.
"Bravo!" Carl said.
"It's a bit short of what I would feel comfortable with," Bob said. "I did my best. Getting him to put in the extra money was like squeezing water from a rock."
"Did you discuss the terms?" Bob asked.
"Oh, yeah! You don't think Michael Calabrese would offer that kind of money without rewarding himself."
"What did you offer?"
"I didn't offer; he told me," Angela said, and went on to explain the terms.
"Whoa!" Bob commented. "He's being rather generous with himself."
"It can't be helped under the circumstances," Angela said. "Call him and draw up the documents. I want that money in our account before he changes his mind. I happen to know how fickle he can be."
"Will do," Bob said, typing himself a note on his BlackBerry.
"Okay, that's it," Angela said, placing her palms on her desk as if she were about to stand up. "Except I want to make sure everyone who knows about the MRSA death yesterday understands that the less said about it, the better. I'd like to keep it away from the medical staff as much as possible."
"I've reminded all the hospital CEOs," Carl said. "I also spoke to Pamela Carson in public relations."
"Good," Angela said. "Anything else?"
"There is one thing I just remembered," Bob said. He straightened himself in his chair. "Paul Yang hasn't come into the office today."
"Has he called in sick?" Angela asked. She felt her general anxiety rise another notch.
"No. I left a message on his cell and also e-mailed him, but he hasn't gotten back to me. I don't know where he is."
"Is that odd for him?" Angela asked, while she debated mentioning Michael's possible role.
"Of course it's odd! He's usually so methodical. I even called his wife. She said he didn't come home last night or even call."