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daughter, Michelle Calabrese, was having a crisis of her own. And while Angela’s CFO and COO, the presidents of Angels Healthcare’s three hospitals, and the recently hired infection-control specialist waited impatiently in the boardroom down the hall, Angela had to deal with Michelle, with whom she’d been talking on the phone for more than fifteen minutes.
    â€œI’m sorry, honey,” Angela said, struggling to keep her voice calm yet firm. “The answer is no! We have discussed it, I’ve thought about it, but the answer is no. That’s spelled n-o.”
    â€œBut Mom,” Michelle whined. “All the girls have them.”
    â€œThat’s hard to believe. You and your friends are only ten years old and in the fifth grade. I’m sure many parents feel the same as I do.”
    â€œDad said I could. You are so mean. Maybe I should go live with him.”
    Angela gritted her teeth and resisted the temptation to respond to her daughter’s hurtful comment. Instead, she swiveled in her chair and glanced out the window of her corner office. Angels Healthcare was located on the twenty-second floor of the Trump Tower on Fifth Avenue. Her private office faced both south and west, with her desk oriented to the north. At the moment she was looking south, down the length of Fifth Avenue, chockablock with traffic. The receding red taillights appeared like a thousand radiant rubies. She knew her daughter was responding to her own anger about life with divorced parents and was trying to use Angela to get her way. Unfortunately, such hurtful comments about her ex-husband had worked several times in the past and had gotten Angela furious, but Angela was determined to try to keep it from happening. Especially under the strain she was, she had to keep herself calm for her upcoming meeting. Parenting and running a multimillion-dollar business were often at odds, and she had to keep them separate.
    â€œMom, are you still there?” Michelle questioned. She knew she’d crossed the line and already regretted her comment. There was no way she wanted to live with her father and all his crazy girlfriends.
    â€œI’m still here,” Angela said. She swung back around to face her sparsely furnished, modern office. “But I did not like your last comment one bit.”
    â€œBut you are being unfair. I mean, you let me pierce my ears.”
    â€œEars are one thing, but belly-button rings are something else entirely. But I don’t want to talk about it anymore, at least at the moment. Have you had supper?”
    â€œYeah,” Michelle said dejectedly. “Haydee made paella.”
    Thank God for Haydee, Angela thought. Haydee Figueredo was a gracious Colombian woman Angela had hired as a live-in nanny right after Angela had separated from her husband, Michael Calabrese. Michelle was only three at the time, and Angela was six months away from finishing her internal medicine residency. Haydee had been like a gift from heaven.
    â€œWhen are you coming home?” Michelle asked.
    â€œNot for a couple of hours,” Angela said. “I’m going into an important meeting.”
    â€œYou always say that about meetings.”
    â€œMaybe I do, but this one is more important than most. Do you have homework?”
    â€œIs the sky blue?” Michelle said superciliously.
    Angela wasn’t happy about the disrespect Michelle’s comment and tone suggested, but she let it go.
    â€œIf you need any help with any of your subjects, I’ll help you when I get home.”
    â€œI think I’ll be asleep.”
    â€œReally! Why so early?”
    â€œI have to get up early for the field trip to the Cloisters.”
    â€œOh, yes, I forgot,” Angela said with an exaggerated grimace. She hated to forget events that were important to her daughter. “If you are asleep when I get home, I’ll sneak in, give you a kiss, and then I’ll see you in the