Three practices, four optometrists who rotate, and a dispensing team on the floor. Stella answers every call, books exams, fittings and collections into the right person for the right length at each practice, reminds and reschedules — and offers the sooner practice when it helps.
Clearview Optometry, this is Stella — how can I help you?
It's not that you need another practice module. Someone has to pick up, know which visit needs which person, and make the sooner-elsewhere offer.
Stella tells exam from fitting, checks every practice, and offers the trade: wait here, or Thursday at Westfield.
The universal six, and two that matter when visits differ and practices are several.
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.
An exam needs the optometrist for thirty; a fitting forty-five; a collection is a dispenser for fifteen. She books the right visit into the right person and never a per-person fudge.
Optometrists rotate; hours are per practice. She searches the patient's usual practice first and offers the other only when it's meaningfully sooner — with the place named. Annual recall is a rhythm she keeps.
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.
The exam room booked by the calibration engineer, an optometrist off sick, a snow day at one practice — 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.
The exam room's booked for the calibration engineer till one — push my morning to the afternoon or offer Main Street.
Optometrists aren't owned by a practice — presence is a schedule. Stella searches the patient's usual practice first and offers another only when it's meaningfully sooner, always with the place named.
Nobody should have to know which practice has the soonest fitting. That's her job.
A panel at each practice's desk: who's next, what changed. One button to say “move Ben to four.” Frame reps and scam calls never make it to the floor.
Between patients, a glance is enough. Nothing to click.
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.
Four optometrists and two dispensers on Answer & Act: $414 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 visit types and who delivers them, your optometrists and where they are on which days, your rooms, your recall rhythm. She's configured by hand for the first practices — 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.