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Wednesday afternoon brought unexpected news.
Linda buzzed my office. "Dr. Farber? You have a call. Dr. William Morrison."
I didn't recognize the name. "Who is he?"
"He says he's an orthodontist. Midtown practice. Wants to discuss a business opportunity."
Curious. "Put him through."
The line clicked. "Dr. Farber? William Morrison. I run a practice on Park Avenue. I've been hearing your name from several sources."
"Good things, I hope."
"Very good things. David Porter can't stop talking about you. Neither can his wife. And I've had three patients specifically ask if I 'work like Dr. Farber.'"
"I'm flattered."
"You should be. It's rare for patients to reference other practices by name." He paused. "I'll be direct. I'm looking to semi-retire. I want to maintain my practice but reduce my hours. I need someone to take over half my patient load. And from what I'm hearing, you might be interested."
I sat up straighter. "What exactly are you proposing?"
"Partnership. You would work out of my office two days a week. I would refer overflow patients to you. We'd split the revenue 60-40—60 for you, 40 for me as the facility fee. You keep your own practice for the other days."
"Why would you offer this to someone you've never met?"
"Because I'm 62 years old and tired. And because three of my most demanding patients told me they'd leave unless I started 'actually listening' like you apparently do. I'd rather partner with you than lose them."
I thought fast. Two days at a Park Avenue practice. Established patient base. Guaranteed revenue.
But also: more hours. More stress. Less time to stabilize my own practice.
"Can I think about it?" I asked.
"Of course. But I need an answer by next week. I have other candidates."
"I'll call you Monday."
"Looking forward to it."
He hung up.
I sat there. Staring at the phone.
Linda appeared in the doorway. "What was that about?"
"Job offer. Sort of. Partnership opportunity."
"With who?"
"Dr. Morrison. Park Avenue practice. He wants me to work two days a week out of his office."
Her eyes widened. "Park Avenue? That's high-end clientele."
"I know."
"That's a big opportunity."
"It's also a big risk. More hours. Less focus on our practice here. And I don't know him. Don't know his systems. Don't know if his patient base would even like my approach."
"What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to think about it. Very carefully."
Thursday morning, 6:45 AM.
Claire at the fountain. I told her about the offer.
She listened. Didn't interrupt. Let me work through it out loud.
"So what's the hesitation?" she asked when I finished.
"The timing. I'm just starting to stabilize here. Adding Park Avenue could overwhelm everything."
"Or it could accelerate your growth."
"Or it could split my focus and damage both practices."
"True." She poured coffee. Handed me a cup. "What does your gut say?"
"My gut says it's too soon."
"Then there's your answer."
"But what if I'm being too cautious? What if this is the opportunity that changes everything?"
"Or what if it's the distraction that derails everything?" She looked at me directly. "Barry, you've spent five weeks building systems. Good systems. Systems that are working. Adding a second practice before you've proven the first one is sustainable—that's not strategic. That's reactive."
She was right.
I knew she was right.
"So I say no?"
"You say 'not yet.' Tell him you're honored. You're interested. But you need six months to stabilize your current practice first. If he's serious, he'll wait."
"And if he won't wait?"
"Then he's not the right partner. Because the right partner understands that good things take time."
I drank my coffee. Let the logic settle.
"You're very good at this," I said.
"At what?"
"Providing perspective. Asking the right questions."
"That's my job. Assess systems. Identify weaknesses. Recommend solutions." She smiled. "I just usually do it for buildings, not businesses."
"Bur same principles."
"Exactly."
We finished our coffee.
"Tonight's still good?" I asked.
"Seven o'clock. I'll meet you at the restaurant. West 10th Street. Place called Chez Brigitte."
"I'll be there."
"Good. And Barry?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't overthink the Morrison offer. You already know what to do. You're just second-guessing yourself."
She left.
I sat there.
She was right about that too.
The clinic day was busy. Seven appointments. All smooth. All on time.
At 4:30, I called Dr. Morrison.
"Dr. Farber! I wasn't expecting to hear from you until Monday."
"I wanted to respond promptly. I appreciate the offer. I'm honored you thought of me. But I have to decline—for now."
"For now?"
"I'm five weeks into rebuilding my practice. I've made significant progress, but I'm not stable enough yet to take on a second commitment. If you ask me again in six months, my answer might be different."
Silence.
Then: "That's a very mature response."
"It's a practical response."
"Most orthodontists your age would jump at a Park Avenue opportunity regardless of readiness."
"I'm not most orthodontists."
"No. You're not." He paused. "I respect your decision. Call me in January if you're interested. The offer stands."
"Thank you, Dr. Morrison."
"Thank you for your honesty. Good luck, Dr. Farber."
I hung up.
Linda appeared. "You said no?"
"I said not yet."
"That took guts."
"That took clarity. There's a difference."
She smiled. "You're really different than you were a month ago."
"Good different?"
"Very good different."
END CHAPTER 8 (2)
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