The Circle

“but what else?”
    Mae shook her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know.”
    “Don’t you usually wear a life preserver?”
    “I do, I do. But they were on the other side of the fence.”
    “And if something happened to you out there, god forbid, how would your parents feel?
     How would Marge feel?”
    “Marion.”
    “How would she feel, Mae? Overnight, her business is over. Finished. All the people
     who work for her. They’re all out of work. The beach is shut down. Kayaking in the
     bay, as a business overall, goes through the floor. All because of your carelessness.
     Forgive me for the bluntness, but because of your selfishness.”
    “I know,” Mae said, feeling the sting of truth. She had been selfish. She hadn’t thought
     of anything but her own desire.
    “It’s sad, because you’ve been improving so much. Your PartiRank was as high as 1,668.
     Your Conversion Rate and Retail Raw were in the top quartile. And now this.” Dan sighed
     elaborately. “But as upsetting as this all is, it provides us with a teachable moment.
     And I mean a teachable moment on a life-changing level. This shameful episode has
     given you the chance to meet Eamon Bailey himself.”
    Mae’s gasp was audible.
    “Yes. He took an interest in this, seeing how much it overlaps with his interests
     and the overall goals of the Circle. Would you be interested in speaking to Eamon
     about this?”
    “Yes,” Mae managed. “Of course.”
    “Good. He’s anxious to meet you. At six this evening, you’ll be brought to his office.
     Please collect your thoughts in the meantime.”
    Mae’s head echoed with self-denunciations. She hated who she was. How could she have
     done that, risked her job? Embarrassed her best friend? Jeopardized her father’s health
     insurance? She was an imbecile,yes, but was she some sort of schizophrenic, too? What had overtaken her the night
     before? What sort of person does that? Her mind argued with itself while she worked,
     feverishly, trying to do something visible to demonstrate her commitment to the company.
     She handled 140 customer queries, her record so far, while answering 1,129 survey
     questions, and while keeping the newbies on target. The pod aggregate score was 98,
     which she took pride in even while knowing there was some luck, and some of Jared’s
     involvement, too—he knew what was happening with Mae and had pledged his help. At
     five p.m. the chute closed and Mae worked on her PartiRank for forty-five minutes,
     bringing it from 1,827 to 1,430, a process entailing 344 comments, posts, and almost
     a thousand smiles and frowns. She converted 38 major topics and 44 minor ones, and
     her Retail Raw was $24,050. She felt sure that this would be noticed and appreciated
     by Bailey, whose concentration on PartiRank was the most acute of the Three Wise Men.
    At five forty-five, a voice called her name. She looked up to see a figure at the
     door, someone new, a man of about thirty. She met him at the door.
    “Mae Holland?”
    “Yes.”
    “I’m Dontae Peterson. I work with Eamon, and he’s asked me to bring you up to his
     office. You ready?”
    They took the same route Mae had taken with Annie, and along the way Mae realized
     that Dontae didn’t know Mae had been to Bailey’s office before. Annie had never sworn
     her to secrecy, but the fact that Dontae didn’t know indicated that Bailey didn’t
     know, and that she shouldn’t reveal this herself.
    As they entered the long crimson hallway, Mae was sweating heavily. She could feel
     rivulets making their way from her armpits to her waist. She couldn’t feel her feet.
    “Here’s a funny portrait of the Three Wise Men,” Dontae said as they stopped at the
     door. “Bailey’s niece did it.”
    Mae pretended to be surprised by it, delighted by its innocence and crude insight.
    Dontae took the large gargoyle knocker and rapped the door. It opened, and Bailey’s
     smiling face filled the void.
    “Hello!” he said. “Hi Dontae, hi Mae!” He smiled wider, acknowledging his rhyme. “Come
     in.”
    He was wearing khakis and a white button-down, looking freshly showered. Mae followed
     him as he took in the room, scratching the nape of his neck, as if almost embarrassed
     by how well he’d done here.
    “So this is my favorite room. Very few people have seen it. Not like I’m super-secret
     about it or anything, but time just doesn’t allow me to give tours and such. Have
     you seen anything like this