“How was your flight out?” Harold Levine, Northgate CEO, asked Alex.
Slater had met Alex at the airport, driven him to the hotel, and checked him in. They had just caught up with Levine at a seafood restaurant on the shore of Lake Union.
“Pretty routine. No drama. Exactly the way I prefer to fly.”
They sat at a table for four next to floor-to-ceiling windows that featured a stunning view of blue water through a forest of white hulls, masts, and antennas, the clear azure sky darkening to dusk. Alex loved the feel of cool midsummer air in comparison to the constant tangible humidity of where he lived. He also found it soothing to dine next to bobbing white boats, docks, and seagulls.
“Before we start I would like you to sign a non-disclosure agreement.” Levine handed him a manila envelope. “Don sent you a copy to read. This is exactly the same.”
Alex removed the paper and signed without more than a cursory glance after verifying it was the same as the one attached to Slater’s e-mail. He returned the signed paper to Levine.
“Don mentioned you’re open to discussing potential employment. Is that correct?”
Alex nodded. “Depending upon various factors.”
“Having a doctor and researcher with your stature on our executive team would be tremendously helpful to the company in numerous ways. The position of chief medical officer would be the equivalent of vice president on the reporting structure. This would seem appropriate. You’d be a voting member of the executive team, which makes you eligible to receive stock options as part of your compensation package.” Levine glanced at Alex’s ring finger. “Where’s your wife from?”
“We’re both originally from the West Coast.”
“Is she agreeable to relocating?”
“We haven’t discussed it since I wasn’t sure if it was a consideration.”
Levine kept his hands folded on the table. “Don said you’ve not previously been involved with a start-up.”
The waiter brought their wine. Because all three of them ordered cabernet, the waiter talked them into a bottle of Sterling Reserve. With glasses poured and the waiter gone, Alex answered. “That’s correct. I’ve been involved only with two universities and the clinic.”
“As I believe he mentioned, being with a start-up requires a different mind-set than most environments. It’s not for everyone. Our investors give us a fixed amount of money and that’s it. We either succeed or we’re out of business. In other words, we watch every penny. This doesn’t mean we cut corners, but it does mean we don’t enjoy various perks as other executives might. We fly coach instead of business class, for instance. Also, executives aren’t compensated as well as a Fortune 500 company.”
Alex liked Levine immediately. Straightforward, logical, affable—a style that radiated leadership and competence without coming across as overbearing. Qualities anyone would want in the person they reported to.
Alex sat in an overstuffed chair in front of the hotel room window, looking at a mosaic of city lights. He should be sleeping, he knew, especially since his biological clock thought it was past his usual bedtime. But too many thoughts were rampaging through his mind for sleep. Once the rush of being in a real city again began to abate, he could relax. But not just yet. The difference in this environment amazed and invigorated him. The crisper air, the more casual style, the edgy alertness in people. Grating accents replaced by saltwater air and seagull cries. Taken together, this felt strangely like home. Sitting here, he couldn’t remember having left the coast.
The engulfing intensity of work that was layered upon his familiar surroundings—the lounge, OR Three, days spent with Chuck Stevens and Bob Cole—had lulled him into a rhythm that burned away days at a mind-numbing rate. Six o’clock in the morning: a quick breakfast, rounds, surgery, more rounds. Seven o’clock at night: pull into the carport. Friday nights at the University Club with the Canters or one of several other couples. Saturday evenings with Lisa. Sunday evenings catching up on journals and preparing for another week. On and on. Was this how he envisioned spending the remainder of his career? On top of the increasing banality of his routine, each day spent in the OR exposed him to the risk of another disaster, the odds unavoidable. Could he live with that threat hovering overhead?
He thought of Meredith. He’d written the prescription with her best interests in mind. Would he do it again? Good question. Probably not. The problem was, he’d refuse not for moral reasons but rather because of the fear of getting caught and sued again. This saddened him.
Time for a career change?
Another good question.
His present life was—for lack of a better term—a sure thing. He’d become a respected member of the Baptist medical staff and a top earner in the clinic. His savings, grown by conservative investing, ensured an eventual comfortable retirement. Finally, Lisa loved the niche she’d made for herself. Leaving a stable, certain life for a risky start-up would mean taking a huge gamble land-mined with massive potential pitfalls. What were the odds the company would succeed? No way to know. Did he believe enough in what they were doing to make the gamble?
Such a move would be in direct conflict to the old school way he’d lived life thus far: minimizing risk by choosing conservative options. He remembered his awe and dismay a few days after high school graduation when his best friend decided to forgo college to travel the world until his money ran out. In contrast, Alex became a poster child of the quintessential goal-directed career: high school to premed to med school to internship to residency, and finally, to his research and surgical work.
Was he now being presented with a one-shot opportunity? Would this chance ever come his way again?
Knowing he might not be able to sleep, he undressed and climbed into bed.
“Sorry I won’t be able to drive you to the airport after your last meeting,” Levine said. Alex and Levine were breakfasting in the hotel coffee shop. “Any questions for me?”
Several. But he decided to not ask them until he was sure about taking the job.
“Not at this point. The underlying concept and your preclinical data are very exciting.”
“Thank you. Don and I are very excited at the possibility of you joining the team.” Levine wiped the corner of his mouth with his napkin. “Any inkling of which way you’re leaning?”
Alex wanted to be completely honest. “No. It would represent a big change with major repercussions. It’s not something I can decide easily.”
Levine smoothed his napkin along the edge of the table to rest his forearms on. “Fair enough. Let’s say you decide not to come work with us. Would that preclude consulting?”
“I think you can pretty much count on me to be a consultant for the company. But after our discussion yesterday, it’s really appealing to have more involvement than that. Your team’s energy and excitement is intoxicating. Besides, I may never get another opportunity like this. That alone is a huge attraction. One way or another, I’ll have an answer for you Friday.”
“How was the flight?” Lisa asked as he slid into the passenger seat. Their routine when he returned from business trips was for Lisa to pick him up outside of the baggage claim instead of leaving his Audi in long-term parking.
“Good. No turbulence.”
“I’ll drop you at the clinic,” she said. “Leave your bag in the car and I’ll take it home and unpack it later. We can talk tonight after you get home and have a chance to relax.”
“Thanks.” Before the flight to Seattle, he’d parked in the clinic garage so Lisa could drop him there now. He planned to catch-up on messages, sort mail, and pre-op the two craniotomies for the following day, both of whom Betsy Lou should’ve already admitted. He rubbed his tired eyes and blinked away the fatigue that comes with travel. He looked forward to a relaxing evening and an early turn-in. Thank God I’m not on call.