Робин Кук - Cell

CENTURY PLAZA HOTEL

CENTURY CITY, LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA

MONDAY, JUNE 30, 2014, 11:00 A.M.

George took the elevator down to the first floor and walked toward the restaurant’s entrance with a number of the other attendees. He was deep in thought, debating what to do next. He knew he should head back to the hospital but couldn’t let the opportunity to confront Paula pass, even if he risked being seen by Clayton. He rationalized that he wouldn’t be long, and he hadn’t received any texts or calls from Claudine Boucher, so things were undoubtedly fine in the MRI unit. George wasn’t surprised, since Claudine was one of the more accomplished residents on her last day on an MRI rotation; she knew the ropes in spades.

He walked into the restaurant, which was reserved for Amalgamated, leaned on the bar, and ordered a Diet Coke. Again, the caffeine was a slight risk, considering he had already had coffee, but, hey, he was rolling the dice today. With his drink in hand he moved to a corner of the room, waiting for Paula to appear. He wanted to avoid any conversations with strangers, if possible. The truth was George couldn’t shake the feeling of inferiority to these successful market warriors. They were a part of the real world, an arena outside the hospital in which he had limited experience.

He spotted her as she strolled in with the other speakers. There was a smattering of applause. It was apparent that the presentation had elicited a very positive reaction. Luckily for George, Clayton immediately veered off, zeroing in on an attractive female in an expensive business suit. George gathered up his courage and walked over toward Paula. Eyeing the situation, looking for an opportunity to present himself, he saw she looked even better up close and was obviously totally at ease in what was to George an alien environment. He wondered what might have happened between them during their first year of medical school if he hadn’t been such an immature ass. Just then she looked up and caught sight of George and smiled broadly. Encouraged by her grin, he headed straight for her.

“George!” Paula exclaimed. “You made it!”

“Hello, Paula.” George put out his hand to shake but she disarmed him by pulling him toward her and kissing him on the cheek. She seemed genuinely happy to see him.

She looked around, still holding on to his hand, and spotted Bradley Thorn shaking hands just behind her. “Bradley, excuse me, this is a dear friend of mine from Columbia Medical School, George Wilson.”

Thorn peered at George over his half glasses. He was holding one of Amalgamated’s spreadsheets.

“George, this is Bradley Thorn, my boss. George is a radiology resident over at L.A. University Medical Center. Which makes him one of our new employees!”

“My pleasure,” Thorn replied. “Excuse me.” He turned from George, his sights set on a big-name CNBC host standing nearby.

Paula smiled at George and shrugged. “Sorry. He’s in ‘biz’ mode.” She aimed another beaming smile at George; she was obviously still on a high after the excitement of the presentation.

“Hey, no problem. I get it.” George didn’t want her to feel defensive.

“I really am glad you came,” she said. “Thanks!”

“Me, too. It was lucky that I could get away,” George said, feeling a bit nervous and less confrontational now that he was actually talking with Paula. “It’s the last day of this month’s rotation, so the resident I’m supervising is entirely comfortable working alone. Tomorrow will be a different story. July first. I’ll be shepherding one or more first-year residents. You know what that means.”

She gave him a blank look.

“July first. The first day of residency, nationwide, for freshly minted medical school grads?” He was trying to help her remember all the requirements to becoming a full-fledged specialist.

“Oh, right. Aka, the deadliest month of the year for patients.” She chuckled, although there was truth in the statement. Both knew that hospital deaths spiked in July, when thousands of new residents began attending patients.

“I’ll be in the ER next month... well, tomorrow, actually,” George said. “Supervising a few first-years there. It’s my last year as a resident. Finally I will make some real money.” He had meant to say it in jest, but it didn’t come out that way. The look on Paula’s face was confirmation.

Paula regarded him for a beat, sensing his nervousness. “Thanks again for coming, George. I really wanted you to be here. So... what do you think of iDoc?”

“I think the app is amazing. A real paradigm shifter, just as it’s being billed. Wish I had thought of it.” His eyes stayed close on her.

“And, of course, you did. Don’t think I’ve forgotten. It’s why I wanted you to be here for our announcement, so you would see it was becoming a reality, not just an idea no one acted upon. It’s actually happening!”

George was taken aback. He had not expected such honesty.

“It was a huge amount of work,” she continued. “Tens of thousands of man-hours. Millions upon millions of dollars. But we did it. And it works. It works better than we ever imagined. It’s the answer, George. Better care. Lower costs. That’s something the ACA will never do on its own.”

George didn’t quite know what to say. He had been so sure that he was going to have to argue to get the credit for giving her the idea.

“Do you have any free cash?” Paula inquired.

“Pardon me?” George was thrown by the question.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. What I meant to say was that whatever you have, invest it in Amalgamated stock. It’s going to go through the roof. And that’s not insider trading advice. Maybe if I had told you yesterday, but not after today’s presentation to the investor community at large. I’m leveraged to the hilt with stock options and—”

“I’m a medical resident, Paula,” George replied in an even tone. “I make a bit less than fifty-five thousand dollars a year putting in eighty-hour workweeks and trying to pay down my med school debt while subsidizing my grandmother’s assisted-living expenses. Stock options are not an option for me. I’m sure they are fine for you with what I’m sure is a significantly higher salary, but not for me.”

Paula took a step back as if he had just thrown a splash of cold water in her face. “Hey, I’m just trying to be a friend, an appreciative one at that. I’m certainly not going to apologize for my compensation package, if that is what you are implying. I work hard for what I earn, and my work is valuable, as time is going to prove. Not just to my employers, but to the general public. Because of that, our company’s stock will rise. Considerably.” She paused. “We all make choices in life, George. I’m happy with mine. You should be with yours, too.”

George didn’t quite know how to respond. He had been feeling outclassed by Paula’s success and then annoyed by her hubris, but her frank response disarmed him.

“Hey! Remember our old argument about how wasteful you thought it was for me to be doing the combined MD-MBA program?” Paula asked. Her tone had changed again. It was now nostalgic and teasing.

“You’ve won that one, obviously,” George conceded.

She laughed, visibly relaxing as she took him by the arm, leading him to a quiet corner of the room. “Listen, no more of this. We’re friends. Why don’t you come over to my house for a visit? We can catch up some — in a more personal environment.”

“Well...,” George stammered. She had him off balance again.

“Come on. I bought a house not too long ago and have barely had time to try out the pool.”

“I’m not sure that we should—”