
Two practitioners, four rooms, no front desk. Stella answers every call, explains your treatments, and books into a schedule that understands the resting phase — the practitioner is free while the room is held — across all four rooms without a double-booking.
Good morning, Willow Acupuncture, this is Stella — how can I help?
It isn't a scheduling-grid problem. Someone has to pick up, know how a treatment actually runs, and know which room is free.
Stella explains the difference between a first consult and a follow-up, then books into the doctor's free window — while room 1 rests.
The universal six, and two that matter when one practitioner runs several rooms.
No menus, no “press one”, no hold music, no disclaimer wall. Place, first name, how can I help — in one breath. Then she listens instead of interrogating. And she's there at 7:40 in the morning and 9 at night — when the parent thinks of it, not when you open.
She searches actual availability — who is where, doing what, for how long, in which chair or room — and never double-books. If she offers 2:20, 2:20 is free.
Reminders go out ahead of time. When someone can't make it, she handles the flustered call with warmth and finds the next time without drama.
A cancelled four o'clock is the one slot you can't sell tomorrow. The moment it frees, she offers it — by text — to the people who've said they'd take short notice, who wanted earlier, or who owe a make-up. First yes takes it; nobody else hears about it.
A four o'clock cancels? She asks the five o'clock if they'd like to come earlier. Nobody is obliged, and it cascades — you finish at five, not six.
Someone turns down a 9am; she stops leading with mornings for them. Preferences, never rules — and when she checks, she uses very few words.
Rooms are a pool of four, not four named lanes. A treatment holds one room for the whole visit and the doctor only for placing and removing — so she can start the next patient in room 2 while room 1 rests.
She'll tell a first-time caller how a visit runs, how long it takes and what it costs — from your catalogue, in your words. She won't promise a result or say what's wrong with a shoulder.
She takes the cancellation the moment it comes, whatever the hour — nobody waits for the desk to open. Runway is money: the earlier she knows, the more people she can offer the slot to once your outbound hours open, and the likelier it fills. Your policy — notice period, deposit, fee — is yours; she states it plainly, applies it the same way every time, and stays kind about it.
Everyone on the short-notice list asked to be on it. Nobody is nagged; nobody hears another client's business.
A room's heating out, the doctor delayed, a half-day closure — the whole block moves, and it's your call, not the patient's. You say it once; she works out who's affected, offers each patient the right alternative in their own words, waives the fee, logs the reason, and reports back. When it's an overrun rather than a closure she works by who can still act: the patients who haven't left home yet get the call and the choice; the ones already in the waiting room get the real ETA; nobody further out is touched unless the delay keeps growing. Nobody hears why; nobody rings the desk.
Room 3's heating is out. Three rooms today, not four — re-space this afternoon and tell people.
Place, rest, remove. The room is taken the whole time; the doctor for the start and the end. Stella books the way you work — so the resting phase becomes the doctor's time for the next patient in the next room.
The needles are in. The doctor is free. Somebody should be answering the phone.
A panel at the desk: who's next, which room, what changed. A voice button for “move Rosa to two.” Suppliers and scam calls never make it into the room.
Between placing and removing, the doctor glances up — the way you'd glance at a clock — and knows.
No “press one”. No “your call is important to us”. No recorded disclaimers before a human word. Warm, short, present — and she says what she is if you ask.
She offers what's in your catalogue and staff profiles. She won't crown a “best” anyone or promise an outcome. A time she offers is a time that's free.
A moved client hears “we need to move your Tuesday — let me find you another time.” Never who, never why. And once moved kindly, they're not yo-yo'd back.
She doesn't lead with it and doesn't apologise for it. Ask, and she'll tell you plainly: she's the assistant. She helps; that's what people remember.
Per seat — a person Stella books — counted from her own book each month. Nothing to declare, nothing to meter, no percentage of your takings. Month to month, no contract.
She picks up, day and night, and takes care of the appointment someone is calling or texting about.
Everything in Answer, plus everything she starts — on her own inside your outbound hours, or on one sentence from you.
Two practitioners on Answer & Act: $138 a month. A seat is a person with ten or more appointments on their name that month. Under ten they're free — stand-ins, part-timers and holiday cover cost nothing; the receptionist, the rooms and the owner-as-admin don't count at all. No contract: you stay because it works. Price for life: your rates are locked the moment you start — we may raise prices for new customers, yours never change, and moving between the two lines keeps your locked rates for both. Cancel or stop paying and the lock is forfeited. A commitment, not a promo. Early access is configured by hand and priced exactly like this.
Your treatments as recipes, your rooms as a pool, your hours. She's configured by hand for the first clinics — a few at a time.
Put your site in. If we already know it, we skip the hunt. Then call her from the phone you give us — she'll know it's you.