Jennifer had never liked hospitals, and this present experience confirmed her long-standing aversion. She checked her watch. It was three-twenty.
Almost an hour passed before Dr. Stephenson reappeared. His hair was matted across his forehead, his face drawn. Jennifer’s heart skipped a beat.
“We did the best we could,” he said, sitting opposite her.
“Is she…” began Jennifer, feeling as if she were watching a soap opera.
Dr. Stephenson nodded. “She’s dead. We couldn’t save her. She had DIC, or diffuse intravascular coagulation. It’s a condition that we don’t really understand too well, but it is occasionally associated with abortions. We’ve only had one other case here at the Julian, and fortunately the patient did well. With Cheryl, however, the situation was complicated by uncontrollable hemorrhaging. Even if we had been able to resuscitate her, I’m afraid she would have lost her kidney function.”
Jennifer nodded, but she didn’t understand in the slightest. It was all too unbelievable.
“Do you know the family?” asked Dr. Stephenson.
“No,” said Jennifer.
“That’s too bad,” he said. “Cheryl was not willing to give their address or phone number. It’s going to make it difficult to track them down.”
Marlene and Gale appeared in front of Jennifer. Both had been crying. Jennifer was astounded. She’d never heard of nurses crying.
“We’re all very upset about this,” said Dr. Stephenson. “That’s the trouble with practicing medicine. You do your best, but sometimes it is just not enough. Losing a young, vibrant girl like Cheryl is a tragedy. Here at the Julian Clinic we take this kind of failure very personally.”
Fifteen minutes later Jennifer left the clinic by the same door she’d entered with Cheryl only hours before. She could not quite grasp the fact that her friend was dead. She turned and looked up at the mirrored façade of the Julian Clinic. Depite what had happened, she still had a good feeling about the hospital. It was a place where people counted.
Following McGuire off the elevator on the nineteenth floor after lunch, Adam paused. He was again both impressed and appalled by the costly furnishings. The appointments were so lavish they made McGuire’s floor seem utilitarian by comparison.
Quickening his step, Adam caught up with McGuire just as he was entering the most spectacular office Adam had ever seen. One entire wall was glass, and beyond it the Jersey countryside unrolled in winter majesty.
“You like the view?” asked a voice. Adam turned. “I’m Bill Shelly,” the man said, walking around his desk. “Glad you could come out and see us.”
“My pleasure,” said Adam, surprised at Mr. Shelly’s youthfulness. Adam had expected someone at least fifty years of age as a senior executive. Mr. Shelly did not appear to be more than thirty. He was Adam’s height with closely cut blond hair combed with a razor-sharp part. His eyes were a startlingly bright blue. He was dressed in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, pink tie, and tan slacks.
Mr. Shelly gestured out the window. “Those buildings in the distance are Newark. Even Newark looks good from a distance.” Behind Adam, McGuire chuckled.
Looking out the window, Adam realized he could also see the lower part of Manhattan. There were lots of clouds, and shafts of sunlight slanted down, illuminating some of the New York skyscrapers while leaving others in blue shadow.
“How about some refreshment,” said Mr. Shelly, moving over to a coffee table that supported a silver service. “We’ve got coffee, tea, and just about anything else.”
The three men sat down. McGuire and Adam asked for coffee. Bill Shelly poured himself a cup of tea.
“McGuire has told me a little about you,” said Shelly, sizing up Adam as he talked.
Adam began to speak, repeating essentially the same things he had told McGuire earlier. The two Arolen executives exchanged glances, nodding imperceptibly. Bill had no doubt that McGuire’s assessment had been accurate. The content of the personality profile that Bill had ordered drawn up during lunch confirmed Bill’s sense that Adam was a particularly good choice for their managerial training program. Finding candidates was a high priority, since the company was expanding so rapidly. The only reservation Bill had was that the boy might go back to medical school, but that could be handled too.
When Adam finished, Bill put down his teacup and said, “We find your attitude about the medical profession sympathetic with our own. We too are aware of doctors’ lack of social responsibility. I think you’ve come to the right place. Arolen could very well be a perfect home for you. Do you have any questions for us?”
“If I am hired, I would like to stay in the New York area,” said Adam. He was reluctant to move away from the medical school and wanted Jennifer delivered at the center.
Bill turned to McGuire. “I think we could find an opening, don’t you, Clarence?”
“Indeed,” agreed Clarence quickly.
“Any other questions?” asked Mr. Shelly.
“Not that I can come up with at the moment,” said Adam. Thinking the meeting over, he started to rise, but Bill leaned over to stop him. “Wait just a little longer.” Dismissing his colleague, he said, “Clarence, I’ll send him down to your office shortly.” As the door closed behind McGuire, Bill rose to his feet.
“First, let me tell you that we are very interested in you. Your medical background is first-rate. Second, I want to assure you that we would be hiring you on your own merits, not because of any influence that you may or may not have with your father.”
“I appreciate your saying that,” said Adam, impressed by Mr. Shelly’s frankness.
Lifting the personality profile that McGuire had put together, Shelly added, “You’d be amazed to know that we have already a complete report on you.”
Adam felt a moment’s outrage that Arolen would dare invade his privacy, but before he could protest, Bill was saying, “Everything in this report encourages me not only to hire you but to offer you a spot in our managerial training program. What do you say?”
Dazed, Adam tried to regain his composure. Things were moving faster than he’d ever expected. “Is the managerial training done here as well?” he asked.
“No,” said Mr. Shelly. “Sales training is located here, but the management program is held at our main research center in Puerto Rico.”
Puerto Rico! thought Adam. And he had been worried about leaving Manhattan. “That’s a very generous offer,” he said at last. “But I think I’d prefer to start out a little slower. My original idea was to begin as a sales rep so that I could learn about the business world.”
“I can appreciate that,” said Mr. Shelly. “But the offer remains. I should tell you that Arolen is planning to reduce its sales force starting next year. You might want to keep that in mind.”
“Does this mean I have been offered a sales job?” asked Adam.
“Yes, indeed,” said Bill. “And there’s one more person in our organization that I’d like you to meet.” He flipped on his intercom and asked his secretary to ask Dr. Nachman if he could come down and meet the new recruit they had discussed earlier.
“Dr. Heinrich Nachman is head of our research center in Puerto Rico. He’s in town for our board meeting, which was held this morning. I’d like you to meet him. He’s a renowned neurosurgeon and a fascinating individual. Talking with him might make you consider the Puerto Rico offer more seriously.”
Adam nodded, then asked, “When would you like me to start? I’m ready now.”
“I do like your attitude,” said Shelly. “I’ll have you enrolled in our next sales representative course, which I believe starts in a week. You’ll have to spend a day with a sales rep before then, but I’m sure Clarence McGuire can set that up for you. As for salary, you’ll go on the payroll immediately. Also, after reading your file, I guess you would like to know about our maternity benefits.”