Karen found the building matching the address in what everyone but the city mapmakers called The Golden Corner, in reference to its past as a center of commerce—before the years of neglect took the shine off. It was now the city's most recent target of renewal and Karen was pleasantly surprised to find out things really were better, at least on the surface. A chain coffee shop on the corner wasn't ideal, but it signaled things had changed and she walked past it to a narrow, little stone building between an apartment building and a brick storefront with a "For Rent" sign slapped over the remnants of a logo for what had been a liquor store. Entering without being greeted by anyone or needing to be buzzed in, she found a building directory next to the elevator. Most of the suites were empty but she noticed a dentist and a real estate agency; the presence of two very sane and normal sounding enterprises helped her relax and feel a little less crazy for responding to the letter and follow-up phone call in the first place.
Scanning the directory, she found "True Self Enterprises" on the fifteenth floor and convinced herself it wasn't odd that a building as short as this one had fifteen floors, or that most of the floors beneath the fifteenth didn't appear in the directory. She entered the elevator and laughed at her paranoia, finding buttons for all of the missing floors. Out of curiosity, she pressed twelve. The elevator didn't respond. She tried the other unlisted floors, and the elevator not only didn't move, but the door stayed open as if to tell her if she was going to get out, now would be the time. She pressed fifteen. The doors closed.
Karen took the time to review the letter she'd received a week ago. It concerned one of her employees, David, a sweet if quiet man she'd hired over a year ago to help with customer relations. In all that time, even thought they'd never spoken of anything but work, Karen had wondered if he had a little crush on her—he always smiled when he saw her and the one time she'd given him a compliment, on a shirt that advertised how he was a bit leaner than she'd realized, his ears had flushed bright red. Truth was, she liked the attention, for years she'd struggled with the fact that she intimidated most men, and quite a few women. She didn't do so intentionally, but she had a presence that announced itself when she entered a room; it wasn't just her physical being although that was certainly part of it. Her friends liked to joke that she was "gifted" when it came to curves, especially through her hips, yet she somehow managed to appear both soft and strong. David, like a few other men she'd known, fell into a category of men who noticed her but for one reason or another maintained a respectful distance. It was a bit ironic since she appreciated deference in a partner, but they worked together so it really was a moot point. She had to give him credit, however, for since she'd hired him he'd stepped up his wardrobe and in general appeared to be trying to impress; he wore the shirt she'd commented on once a week. The letter didn't say much other than that David had sought treatment at True Self and as part of the treatment, they thought it wise to inform his employer, Karen. She'd been assured over the phone that there was nothing to be concerned about, but that she needed to come in in person. David, they added, was unaware she'd been asked to visit True Self, and they thought it best she keep it that way for the time being.
The elevator opened with a ding and Karen found herself standing on new carpeting looking through a massive plate glass window and upon the river. Turning to her left, she found a smiling woman a little older than herself, in a business suit, and perched upon a desk empty but for a phone.
"You have to be Karen."
"I am, I—"
"Exactly as he described. David is such a nice man, don't you think?"
Karen agreed he was, then cut to the point. "So is this...therapy of some kind?"
"You might say that, yes. But non-traditional."
Right, thought Karen. Non-traditional. In other words, snake oil craziness. If she could help David disentangle himself, she would, but she had no intention of making it a long visit.
"You know, I could go on about all that we do, but it might be easier if you watch our video, that way I won't forget anything."
The woman pointed to a small computer screen perched on a table behind Karen. Given that the desk was in the sparsest office Karen had ever seen, she didn't know how she'd missed it.
"How long will it take?"
"It often takes two minutes, tops."
Karen dismissed the odd phrasing and sat down at the desk, slipping on a pair of headphones and watching a rather poorly produced video starring the woman she'd just met, who wasn't named in the video, talking in a somewhat confusing, circular fashion about True Self. As hard as Karen tried, she couldn't track what the woman was saying so that by the time the video ended, she felt as though she'd learned nothing, except that True Self helped people find their true self, and that wasn't very helpful. She did feel oddly relaxed and buoyant and talking to the woman as if they'd known each other for a long time. If asked, she'd have said she felt understood, and that she didn't need to put up any barriers between herself and this new person, whose name she still didn't know. The talk turned to men and how Karen was struggling to find a partner and wasn't even sure who that partner would be anymore, but she knew she wanted someone who could accept what she had to give and treated her like a queen. Hearing herself say these words, she became briefly embarrassed, but just as quickly felt that feeling evaporate. She then looked at her watch and realized she'd been there over an hour, which seemed impossible.
"How long have we been—"
"So, Karen, let's talk about David."
"Oh. Right." Yes, poor David, the reason she was here in the first place.
"He came to us for a treatment a few weeks ago."
"A treatment?"
"Yes. You see, what we do is we put clients in front of a computer monitor, they put on the headphones and it begins like a normal corporate video explaining our services and so on, then it puts them into a state of deep hypnosis during which we're able to unlock their true self and help them accept it."
"In front of a computer monitor like the one I used?"
"In fact, that is the monitor we use."
Karen paused. This sounded like a key detail. If they hypnotized people using the video she'd just watched, did that mean...? She couldn't quite finish the thought.
"So you messed with his head?"
"Not at all. We can't do that, and even if we could it would be unethical. Our clients come to us with help bringing what's already there to the forefront. We take the secret, repressed self and break down its defenses and let it free, but in a controlled, safe way. The software records his responses and creates a full report on his desires."
"And..."
"We then do what we can to help our clients manage them. In his case, we contacted you, since you are all he talked about."
"I'm what?"
"You heard me."
"Should I be concerned?"
"Not in the least."
Karen flushed. What a sweetie.
"The two of you have spent all this time around each other and yet how you feel has remained a secret. Such a shame, isn't it?"
"It is."
"But. I can't."
"And why is that?"
