“First of all, the ads have no legitimate function except to increase profits by expanding enrollment. They’re nothing but exaggerations, half-truths, or the hyping of superficial amenities. They have nothing to do with the quality of health care. Secondly, the advertising costs a ton of money, and it’s being lumped into administrative costs. That’s the real crime: It’s taking money away from patient care.”

“Are you finished?” Terese asked.

“I could probably think up some more reasons if I gave it some thought,” Jack said.

“I happen to disagree with you,” Terese said with a fervor that matched Jack’s. “I think all advertising draws distinctions and fosters a competitive environment which ultimately benefits the consumer.”

“That’s pure rationalization,” Jack said.

“Time out, you guys,” Chet said, stepping between Jack and Terese for the second time. “You two are getting out of control again. Let’s switch the topic of conversation. Why don’t we talk about something neutral, like sex or religion.”

Colleen laughed and gave Chet a playful swat on the shoulder.

“I’m serious,” Chet said while laughing with Colleen. “Let’s discuss religion. It’s been getting short shrift lately in bars. Let’s have everybody tell what they grew up as. I’ll be first…”

For the next half hour they indeed did discuss religion, and Jack and Terese forgot their emotional outburst. They even found themselves laughing since Chet was a raconteur of some wit.

At eleven-fifteen Jack happened to glance at his watch and did a double take. He couldn’t believe it was so late.

“I’m sorry,” he said, interrupting the conversation. “I’ve got to go. I’ve got a bicycle ride ahead of me.”

“A bike?” Terese questioned. “You ride a bike around this city?”

“He’s got a death wish,” Chet said.

“Where do you live?” Terese asked.

“Upper West Side,” Jack said.

“Ask him how ‘upper,’ ” Chet dared.

“Exactly where?” Terese asked.

“One-oh-six a Hundred and Sixth Street,” Jack said. “To be precise.”

“But that’s in Harlem,” Colleen said.

“I told you he has a death wish,” Chet said.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to ride across the park at this hour,” Terese said.

“I move pretty quickly,” Jack said.

“Well, I think it’s asking for trouble,” Terese said. She bent down and picked up her briefcase, which she’d set on the floor by her feet. “I don’t have a bike, but I do have a date with my bed.”

“Wait a second, you guys,” Chet said. “Colleen and I are in charge. Right, Colleen?” He put his arm loosely around Colleen’s shoulder.

“Right!” Colleen said to be agreeable.

“We’ve decided,” Chet said with feigned authority, “that you two can’t go home unless you agree to have dinner tomorrow night.”

Colleen shook her head as she ducked away from Chet’s arm. “I’m afraid we’re not available,” she said. “We’ve got an impossible deadline, so we’ll be putting in some serious overtime.”

“Where were you thinking of having dinner?” Terese asked.

Colleen looked at her friend with surprise.

“How about right around the corner at Elaine’s,” Chet said. “About eight o’clock. We might even see a couple of celebrities.”

“I don’t think I can…” Jack began.

“I’m not listening to any excuses from you,” Chet said, interrupting. “You can bowl with that group of nuns another night. Tomorrow you’re having dinner with us.”

Jack was too tired to think. He shrugged.

“It’s decided, then?” Chet said.

Everyone nodded.

Outside of the bar the women climbed into a cab. They offered Chet a ride home, but he said he lived in the neighborhood.

“Are you sure you don’t want to leave that bike here for the night?” Terese asked Jack, who’d finished removing his panoply of locks.

“Not a chance,” Jack said. He threw a leg over his bike and powered out across Second Avenue, waving over his head.

Terese gave the cabdriver the address of the first stop, and the taxi made a left onto Second Avenue and accelerated southward. Colleen, who’d kept her eye on Chet out the back window, turned to face her boss.

“What a surprise,” she said. “Imagine meeting two decent men at a bar. It always seems to happen when you least expect it.”

“They were nice guys,” Terese agreed. “I suppose I was wrong about them being out at the meat market, and thank God they didn’t spout off about sports or the stock market. Generally that’s all men in this city can talk about.”

“What tweaks my funny bone is that my mother has forever been encouraging me to meet a doctor,” Colleen said with a laugh.

“I don’t think either one of them is a typical doctor,” Terese said. “Especially Jack. He’s got a strange attitude. He’s awfully bitter about something, and seems a bit foolhardy. Can you imagine riding a bike around this city?”

“It’s easier than thinking about what they do. Can you imagine dealing with dead people all day?”

“I don’t know,” Terese said. “Mustn’t be too different than dealing with account executives.”

“I have to say you shocked me when you agreed to have dinner tomorrow night,” Colleen said. “Especially with this National Health disaster staring us in the face.”

“But that’s exactly why I did agree,” Terese said. She flashed Colleen a conspiratorial smile. “I want to talk some more with Jack Stapleton. Believe it or not, he actually gave me a great idea for a new ad campaign for National Health! I can’t imagine what his reaction would be if he knew. With his philistine attitude about advertising, he’d probably have a stroke.”

“What’s the idea?” Colleen asked eagerly.

“It involves this plague thing,” Terese said. “Since AmeriCare is National Health’s only real rival, our ad campaign merely has to take advantage of the fact that AmeriCare got plague in its main hospital. As creepy as the situation is, people should want to flock to National Health.”

Colleen’s face fell. “We can’t use plague,” she said.

“Hell, I’m not thinking of using plague specifically,” Terese said. “Just emphasizing the idea of National Health’s hospital being so new and clean. The contrary will be evoked by inference, and it will be the public who will make the association with this plague episode. I know what the Manhattan General is like. I’ve been there. It might have been renovated, but it’s still an old structure. The National Health hospital is the antithesis. I can see ads where people are eating off the floor at National Health, suggesting it’s that clean. I mean, people like the idea that their hospital is new and clean, especially now with all the hullabaloo about bacteria making a comeback and becoming antibiotic-resistant.”

“I like it,” Colleen said. “If that doesn’t increase National Health Care’s market share vis-à-vis AmeriCare, nothing will.”

“I even have thought up a tag line,” Terese said smugly. “Listen: ‘We deserve your trust: Health is our middle name.’ ”

“Excellent! I love it!” Colleen exclaimed. “I’ll get the whole team working on it bright and early.”

The cab pulled up to Terese’s apartment. The women did a high-five before Terese got out.

Leaning back into the cab, Terese said: “Thanks for getting me to go out tonight. It was a good idea for lots of reasons.”

“You’re welcome,” Colleen said, flashing a thumbs-up sign.