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Monday morning, 6:45 AM. Week six.
Claire was at the fountain with two cups ready.
"You look thoughtful," she said, handing me coffee.
"Do I?"
"You've been staring at the fountain for three minutes without drinking."
I looked down. My coffee was untouched. She was right.
"Sorry. Distracted."
"By what?"
I pulled out my pager. The message was from last night. Monica had left her number.
I called back from a payphone on my way home. The conversation had been brief.
"Bring Claire to Friday dinner. We all want to meet her."
Not a suggestion. A friendly demand.
"Monica wants you to come to Friday dinner," I said. "Meet the group."
Claire's hand paused halfway to her cup. "Meet your friends?"
"If you're comfortable with it. No pressure."
"That's a significant step."
"It's just dinner."
"It's integrating me into your social circle. That's not 'just dinner.'" She drank her coffee. Thinking. "How many people?"
"Six. Monica, her brother Ross, Chandler, Joey, Phoebe, and Rachel."
"Your ex-fiancée will be there."
"She's part of the group. But it's not weird. We're friends now. Actually friends."
"And the others? What are they like?"
I thought about how to describe them.
"Chandler's funny. Sarcastic. Uses humor to deflect feelings. Joey's an actor. Genuine. Kind. Not always bright but always sincere. Phoebe plays guitar. Sees the world differently. Believes in auras and cosmic energy."
"And Monica?"
"You've met Monica. Organized. Controlling. Means well. Excellent cook."
"And Ross?"
"Awkward. Paleontologist. Recently divorced. Talks about dinosaurs when he's nervous."
Claire set down her cup. "That's a lot of personalities in one room."
"It is. They're... a lot. But they're good people."
"I don't do well in large groups."
"Neither do I."
"But you're comfortable with them."
"I wasn't at first. But they grew on me." I paused. "You don't have to come. I can tell Monica you're busy."
"Do you want me to come?"
"Yes. But only if you're comfortable."
She was quiet for a moment. Watching the fountain. Processing.
"Okay," she said finally. "I'll come. But if it's overwhelming, we leave early."
"Deal."
"And you have to warn me if someone's about to ask an intrusive question."
"I'll do my best."
"Good." She poured more coffee from her thermos. "What time Friday?"
"Seven PM."
"I'll meet you there. I don't want to feel trapped if I need to leave separately."
"You won't need to leave."
"But I want the option."
"Fair enough. I'll leave the address with Linda. You can call the office"
She almost smiled. "I appreciate you asking instead of assuming I would come."
"I wouldn't assume. This is your choice."
We finished our coffee. She packed her thermos.
"Same time tomorrow?" she asked.
"Always."
She left.
Friday suddenly felt very important.
The week progressed with unusual intensity.
Tuesday brought two of David Porter's referrals.
The first was Michael Torres. CFO of a tech startup. Mid-thirties. Successful. Direct.
"David said you're the only orthodontist in Manhattan who doesn't try to upsell," he said.
"I recommend what you need. Nothing more."
"Prove it."
I examined his bite. Severe malocclusion. Years of compensatory jaw positioning. Similar to David's case but worse.
"You need braces. Eighteen to twenty months. Possibly a bite plate at night to prevent grinding while we correct the alignment."
"What about Invisalign?"
"Wouldn't work for your case. The correction needed is too significant. Traditional braces are more effective."
"How much?"
"$5,200. Payment plan available—$1,500 down, $185 per month for twenty months."
He considered. Pulled out a calculator. Did the math.
"That's actually reasonable."
"It's fair. For both of us."
"When can we start?"
"Next Tuesday. First appointment takes two hours."
He signed at checkout. Check for $1,500.
The second referral was David's wife's friend. Similar result. $4,800 case. Signed immediately.
By end of day Tuesday: $3,300 in deposits.
Linda was stunned. "That's half a month's revenue in one day."
"That's word of mouth working."
"That's you being good at what you do."
Wednesday brought the third referral. Another conversion. $4,200 case.
By Wednesday evening, we'd added $7,500 in new committed revenue.
Spread over eighteen months, but still. Three major cases in two days.
"This is what happens when you build a reputation," Linda said. "People trust you. They refer others. It compounds."
"It's also luck. David Porter happened to work with people who needed orthodontics."
"It's not luck. You earned this."
Maybe she was right.
Thursday morning, 6:45 AM.
Claire at the fountain. One cup ready.
"Where's mine?" I asked.
"You brought bodega coffee three days in a row. I'm teaching you a lesson about preparation."
"That's harsh."
"That's practical." She poured from her thermos. Handed me the cap. "Tomorrow's still happening?"
"Unless you've changed your mind."
"I haven't. But I'm nervous."
"About what?"
"Meeting six strangers who will judge whether I'm good enough for you."
"They won't judge—"
"Of course they will. That's what friends do. They evaluate your partner. Make sure you're not making a mistake."
"You're not a mistake."
"They don't know that yet."
"They'll like you."
"How do you know?"
"Because you're direct. Competent. You don't perform. They'll respect that."
"What if I say something wrong?"
"Then you say something wrong. They've all said wrong things. Chandler's entire personality is saying wrong things and making them funny."
She smiled slightly. "What should I wear?"
"Whatever you're comfortable in. It's casual. Monica's apartment. Just dinner."
"Not fancy?"
"Not fancy. Nice casual."
"I can do nice casual." She drank her coffee. "Are you nervous?"
"A little."
"Why?"
"Because I want them to like you. And I want you to like them. And I can't control either outcome."
"You can't control most outcomes. You can only control your actions."
"That's very zen."
"That's very realistic."
We finished our coffee.
"See you tomorrow," she said. "Seven PM. Monica's apartment."
"I'll be there at 6:55."
"I'll be there at 7:00. Exactly."
She left.
I sat another moment.
Twenty-four hours.
Friday moved slowly.
The clinic was busy. Six appointments. All routine. All on time.
But my mind was elsewhere.
END CHAPTER 9 (1)
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