The Callback
1383 Words
Chelsea sat in the waiting area, hugging her file to her chest. Her palms were still sweaty from the interview, but she kept replaying that moment with the CEO like her brain refused to let it go.
She touched him. Nothing happened. He froze. His assistant panicked. And they both looked at her like she had just done something supernatural.
Chelsea rubbed her forehead. “God, please, if they’re about to escort me out, just let them do it fast…” She forced herself to sit up straighter. She was here for a job. A real job. Not to worry about a man she bumped into for three seconds.
A receptionist stepped out of a glass office.
“Miss Allison? You may come in.”
Chelsea stood, smoothed her blouse, and said a quick prayer for luck before following her.
The interview room held four people. A woman in her fifties with sharp eyes sat at the center. The others were younger, dressed in muted corporate colors, each with a laptop open.
Chelsea introduced herself, then sat.
The lead interviewer folded her hands. “We’ll get straight to it. Your academic records are impressive. Your work ethic is strong. But your application was flagged as… unusual.”
Chelsea frowned slightly. “Unusual how?”
“When did you submit your application?” The woman asked.
Her breath caught. “I didn’t.. I mean, I applied about seven months ago, but I only received the email today.”
The panel exchanged glances.
The man on the right leaned forward. “Did someone at RioCorp reach out to you personally?”
“No, sir.”
A pause settled over the room as they all exchanged glances again. Chelsea felt like she was missing something important.
The woman tapped her pen. “Well, you’re here, and we won’t waste the opportunity. Let’s proceed.”
The questions started simple: clinical procedures, patient handling, data accuracy, confidentiality. Chelsea answered each one carefully. Her voice shook at first, but her confidence grew the more she spoke.
She’d spent years doing this work. She knew it well.
After twenty minutes, the panel paused to type notes. Chelsea used the brief silence to breathe, when a phone ringing suddenly broke the silence.
The older woman picked it up and answered the call. She briefly locked eyes before Chelsea before ending the call with an “Okay Sir.”
The woman studied her for a long moment, before speaking. “ The CEO wants to see you, Miss Allison.”
Chelsea’s legs felt weak and her heart started beating fast. Is this it? Is the CEO finally ready to take his revenge and kick out? She was drawn out of her thoughts by the voice of the older woman.
“You can stay in the waiting room. A receptionist will come to escort you to his office soon.“
She shakingly thanked the panel, who were all looking at her with puzzled looks, and stepped out of the interview room. She sat, clasping her hands together. She didn’t know how long she waited. Ten minutes? Twenty?
Finally, the receptionist returned.
“Miss Allison, please follow me.”
Chelsea stood immediately. Her heart started racing again. She followed the woman down a different corridor this time, one with darker walls, fewer people, and a silence that felt intentional. When they stopped at a door marked PRIVATE OFFICE, Israel wiped her hands on her skirt and tried to breathe normally.
The receptionist knocked on the door, and a calm voice answered, “Come in.” The receptionist opened the door, and gestured for her to step inside.
The door closed behind her with a soft thud. She looked around the office with awe. The room was large but not decorated to show off, neat desk, dark furniture, tall windows. Everything was in sharp order.
And there he was.
Xavier stood by the window, hands in his pockets, gaze fixed on the city below. When he turned, his expression was unreadable.
Chelsea swallowed. “Good afternoon, sir
He didn’t say anything at first. He just looked at her. And the weird part was that it didn’t feel like he was checking her out or judging her outfit. He was studying her like she was a question he needed to solve, like she was a puzzle.
“Sit,” he said simply.
She sat, and her knee immediately started bouncing. She stopped it quickly.
He finally moved, walking around his desk and leaning against it. “Earlier. When you touched me.”
Chelsea wanted to sink into the floor. “I’m really sorry about that, sir. I wasn’t watching—”
“I’m not talking about the accident,” he cut in. His voice was low but steady. “I’m talking about what didn’t happen.”
She frowned. “I… don’t understand.”
He held up the hand she touched.
“Any physical contact causes a reaction.” His tone didn’t change, but there was something sharp behind it. “Hives, swelling, elevated heart rate, sometimes collapse.”
Chelsea’s stomach twisted. “Sir, that sounds serious. Have you, um… seen a specialist?”
“Yes, It has no cure,” he cut in, cold but factual. “It is not contagious. And it is not common.”
“Oh. So… what does this have to do with me?”
“That’s what I don't understand. You see, you’re the first person in years who touched me and didn’t trigger anything. Nobody, not even my father can achieve that.”
He studied her again.
“You’re the first person in seventeen years whose touch didn’t make me collapse.”
He turned slightly, leaning on the edge of his desk.
Chelsea blinked. Once. Twice. “That can’t be possible. I’m nobody special.”
He didn’t argue. He just watched her like that was exactly what he was trying to figure out.
“Do you have any medical condition?” he asked. “Allergy history? Family illness? Anything that explains why your touch is unaffected?”
Chelsea shook her head. “No, sir. At least… nothing I know of.”
His gaze barely shifted, but something in him relaxed and tensed at the same
”
He nodded once, slow. “Interesting.”
Chelsea felt small and huge at the same time. “Sir, if I did something wrong—”
“You didn’t.” He cut in again. “In fact, you did something very right.”
He slid a file toward her. She opened it, expecting another debt letter or a court case.
Instead:
OFFER OF EMPLOYMENT — CONDITIONAL
Her jaw dropped slightly. “Wait… I got the job?”
“Yes.”
Her throat tightened. “Thank you, sir. I don’t even know what to—”
“You’ll be placed in the Clinical Innovations Division.”
Chelsea looked up sharply. “Isn’t that directly under your office Sir?”
“Yes.”
She didn’t breathe for a moment. “Why me, sir? I’m still in school. I’m not even fully trained.”
“Because I want to observe you,” he said plainly. “And because competent people are rare.”
Chelsea sat there, confused, grateful, and low-key terrified.
“You’ll start Monday,” he continued. “Eight a.m.”
She nodded quickly. “Yes, sir.”
He didn’t dismiss her immediately. He just studied her one more time, like he was trying to memorize everything he didn’t understand.
“You may go.”
Chelsea stood, bowed slightly, and walked out on shaky legs. When the door closed, she inhaled so deeply it burned.
As she walked back toward the elevator, she whispered to herself, “Violet won’t believe this. I don't even believe this.”
Her phone buzzed as the elevator doors opened.
A message from Violet:
> How did it go?? Are you employed? Should I open champagne or cry with you?
Chelsea pressed a hand to her chest, half laughing, half trembling.She didn’t know this man. She didn’t know about this company. She didn’t know what she had just walked into.
But she knew one thing for sure:
Nothing about her life would stay normal after today.
“I think…” She swallowed. “…I think my life just changed.”
The elevator closed.
- Writer
