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."
"Good God!" Angela said. "Has she called the police?"
"No, she hasn't. He's done this before, although not for a number of years. He'd had a drinking problem, which had led to some odd behavior. His wife told me he'd been out of sorts of late and had gone back to having a cocktail or two on his way home."
"I never knew he had a drinking problem," Angela said. She did not like to be blindsided about any Angels Healthcare employees, particularly key employees.
"I kept it out of his record," Bob said. "I should have told you when I recruited him, but he and I had worked together for something like six years, and he'd been clean."
"Good God!" Angela repeated, raising her eyes to the ceiling for a moment. "Now we have to worry about a drunken binge by our accountant, who's been threatening us all with filing an eight-K. What else can go wrong?" She took a deep breath before looking back at Bob.
"I know he was struggling with his conscience," Bob said. "That's why I called you about him yesterday, to keep you in the loop. Up until then, he hadn't mentioned the problem for over a week. I'd thought it was a non-issue. Apparently, he'd read an article about the sentencing of the Enron and WorldCom people. I told him what I'd told him before, namely that our not filing the eight-K is justifiable. We're not trying to perpetrate a fraud by bilking people out of their savings or retirement funds, which is what the SEC rule is about. In fact, just the opposite! We're creating capital for people."
"After you called me yesterday about him, I called Michael because when you had originally brought the issue to my attention, I had discussed it with him. I thought with his IPO experience he would have a suggestion of how to handle the problem, and he did. He said he knew someone who could talk to him and put his mind at ease by convincing him that filing the eight-K wasn't necessary in our situation."
"Was it a corporate attorney?"
"I have no idea. I didn't ask, but I find myself wondering if talking with Michael's acquaintance could have had anything to do with Paul's not coming to work today."
"It's possible, but I bet the reason for his being incommunicado is more prosaic, like he got himself blotto and is currently sleeping it off in a fleabag hotel."
"Is there any way we could find out if he filed the eight-K?" Angela asked hesitantly.
"Not that I know of," Bob responded. "We'll just have to wait and see if the shit hits the fan." He laughed humorlessly.
"If you think of a way, let me know," Angela said. "It would be best if we know sooner rather than later, so we can prep our general counsel. We'll be forced to come up with a rational explanation of why we didn't file earlier. Maybe you should start giving it some thought, Bob."
Bob nodded.