I unbutton the next button on my shirt as we pull outof the hospital parking lot. Then I tap Dorian’s name on my screen.
He answers on the second ring. “Tell me it’s done.”
“It’s done.”
“Full vote for concierge?”
“Passed by a wide margin.”
He lets out a short, satisfied laugh. “Beautiful. That’s what I like to hear.”
I lean my head back against the seat, watching palm trees blur past the window.
“So what’s the timeline?”
“They’re estimating three months for soft rollout. Six for full execution.”
“That fast?” he says and whistles.
“We gave them no choice.”
Dorian chuckles. “Shame about that aggressive notice they got. Some real shark must be behind that one.”
I don’t reply.
“Alright. So, how do we play it? Now that the vote’s in, what’s the timeline on our end?”
I close my eyes, walking him through it out loud.
“We keep our name out of it. Let the board take the heat during rollout. They’re going to trim staff, sunset departments, and reassign budgets. Once concierge is operational and billing improves, we’ll order a re-appraisal on the asset. Full valuation under the new model.”
“And then we sell?”
“Then we sell.”
“To a system, or a fund?”
“Whichever offers the best return. Once the new revenue model stabilizes, a concierge hospital in Palm Beach is going to be worth three times what we paid for the debt.”
Dorian exhales. “Not bad for a bankrupt nonprofit with rotting pipes and legacy overhead.”
There’s a pause.
Then he asks, “You want me to start lining up suitors?”
“Give it a week. Let the dust settle.”
“Yeah, that makes sense."
I'm not in the chatty mood, and Dorian is on cloud nine. All I want to do is get off the phone.
"You flying back tonight or staying through the weekend?”
I pause. The vote’s done, nothing is keeping me here. Except that she hasn’t looked at me since I let her walk out.
“I’ll stay through Saturday, as planned. At least at this point. That could change.”
“Copy that. And the neighbor? That still a thing?”