APPROVING NODS BOBBED AROUND THE TABLE. LEONARD Reed, CEO of Jefferson Health Care, leaned back into the supple leather chair and rested his head. He studied the faces of his board while gnawing at a hangnail on his pinkie. He dislodged it and spit it on the table. Leonard’s lips parted in a smirk at the woman next to him; she had averted her eyes and was staring at the table where he’d spit his nail. She didn’t dare allow her revulsion to show. He was amused by her lame attempt at nonchalance and moved so his thigh was touching hers under the table. She didn’t react. He wondered how long it would take before she had the nerve to move her chair farther from his, only half listening as Marvin, his newest hire, droned on.
“Since adopting the policy changes last year, we’ve gotten an 85 percent acceptance rate from corporate clients. Within that base, 90 percent of employees in the low- and mid-income ranges opted in to the low-premium policy. That has resulted in a reduction of roughly 25 percent in premiums but is offset by 80 percent lower claim payouts in just the first quarter.” The board was getting restless, but Marvin didn’t notice their waning attention and continued to read statistics and performance results, all in his mind-numbing monotone.
Leonard heaved a self-satisfied sigh. He had known when he hired him that Marvin’s genius would save them billions. How ironic that the very changes he had proposed would have prevented his own birth had they been in effect when he was still in his mother’s womb. Oh, well, Leonard was glad that he had Marvin on his team as he was brilliant at numbers. And after all, it all boiled down to margins. It had been so easy to sell cheaper premiums in exchange for intangible trade-offs. Half the time, no one even read the damn explanations anyway. They only cared about how much would be coming out of their paychecks. It had been a no-brainer for the board to adopt the policy changes. After a few hitches with the insurance commission and some greased palms, everything had fallen into place. Until the damn class action suit.
Now, the repercussions of the new exclusions were increasing and the Supreme Court had agreed to hear the case. Leonard already knew how four justices would vote. He only needed one more, so he was in the process of seeing what dirt he could find on them. The decision would be made in the next month or so. He was sure he’d find a way to make the decision go his way. Even if someone didn’t have any skeletons in their closet, he could always place one there. He loved tricking people. It made him feel a little like Rumpelstiltskin, a misunderstood hero if ever there was one.
The woman next to him cleared her throat. “What if the court votes against us?”
“Unlikely,” Leonard answered without bothering to look at her. He didn’t care to elaborate or explain himself. No one had been able to stop them when they changed the rules and started denying expensive treatments and diagnostic tests. They had the doctors jumping through hoops to get prior approval for costly tests like MRIs and other diagnostic tools that patients could live without. Maybe it made the doctor’s job a little more difficult, having to navigate treatment in the dark, but in the long run, it saved a shit ton of money, which was all he cared about. No one did anything as the insurance companies grabbed more power from the doctors every day—it soon became accepted practice.
“There’s still all the bad publicity. The Sanctity of Life Group is on the steps every day,” she persisted.
He glared at her. “It’s being handled. We don’t spend millions of dollars on PR for nothing.” He didn’t mention the entertainment network that worked in concert with him to produce shows that supported his efforts. His eyes narrowed. “Isn’t your department above the quota for claims? If I were you, I’d spend less time worrying about the company’s future and more time worrying about my own.”
She bit her lip and blinked.
Leonard sighed loudly and motioned for Marvin to continue. He wasn’t worried about the protest groups. With one phone call, they would get the credit for an indefensible act of violence. In another week, their credibility would be in the toilet.
Bored now, he tapped his foot underneath the table and glanced at his watch. He had planned to spend the afternoon with Sissy, his mistress. He was eager to continue his carefully orchestrated campaign on her self-esteem. Maybe he’d leave a brochure for breast implants by the bedside today even though he didn’t really want her to get them. After all, he’d be finished with her by the time the stitches were ready to come out. He just wanted her to remember her place, to know that she needed to be on her best behavior if she wanted him to stick around. He’d seen it enough times—good-looking women thinking the world owed them everything.
He reached out a fat hand to grab the last jelly donut and stuffed it in his mouth, not bothering to wipe away the red glob that ran down his chin. He stared at Michelle, his young secretary, and licked his lips. Perhaps he would call her in for some private dictation and make Sissy wait another day. He’d tell her that she had completely slipped his mind.
He grinned and winked at Michelle. The look of resignation and dread on her face only served to arouse him more.