TO GET THE JOB

CALI

I stepped into the office where the interview was taking place, and my gaze immediately landed on Smith Bryan.

Goodness he was striking. There was something about the way he sat, confident but calm, like he owned not just the room but the air in it. My chest tightened slightly, and I forced my eyes away, reminding myself that admiring him had to wait. I needed this job more than I needed a distraction.

“Have your seat,” he said coldly, his tone slicing through the faint hum of the office.

Only then did I realize I was still standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“Thank you,” I replied, smoothing my hands in my lap as I slid into the chair across from him.

His eyes scanned me in a way that made my skin prickle not professional, not respectful, and certainly not subtle. I shifted in my seat, trying to ignore the uncomfortable warmth creeping up my neck.

“Introduce yourself,” he said gruffly, voice firm, leaving no room for hesitation.

I scoffed silently, cleared my throat, and began, “My name is—”

“Cali Rillion,” he interrupted flatly.

I blinked, caught off guard. Our eyes met for a brief, unsettling moment before I quickly looked away. My heart thudded erratically. Why did it feel like he was examining me, dissecting me, instead of simply interviewing me?

“What qualifications do you have?” he asked after what felt like an eternity, his eyes narrowing slightly as if challenging me to defend my worth.

“I studied Business Administration in college,” I said carefully, measuring each word, “and I previously worked at Winthrop Enterprise. You can take a look at my CV if you’d like.”

“I don’t need it,” he snapped, stopping my hand halfway across the desk.

I clenched my teeth and screamed silently inside. What is wrong with this man?

“Do you need this job?” he asked suddenly, leaning back in his chair, folding his arms.

The question felt invasive, too sharp, too personal. I felt heat rise in my chest, a mixture of indignation and anxiety bubbling up.

“How badly do you need it?”

I swallowed hard, resisting the urge to lash out. The power dynamic in the room twisted like a knife.

“Very badly,” I admitted, my voice tight but steady. I refused to let him see fear in my eyes, though my hands were slightly trembling.

He studied me, silent for a few agonizing seconds, as if weighing something invisible in his mind.

“To get this job,” he said slowly, deliberately, “you’ll have to prove your loyalty.”

My stomach dropped. The words didn’t make sense loyalty? I didn’t even know him!

“What do you think you’re implying?” I asked, standing abruptly. “Who do you think you are?”

His face remained unreadable, like a mask carved from stone.

“So, because I said I need this job, you think you can disrespect me?” I snapped, voice rising. “If that’s the case, you can keep it.”

I grabbed my bag, the leather strap digging into my shoulder as I headed for the door, my vision blurring with unshed tears. Why did this always happen? Why did interviews never just stay professional? Why did people insist on testing me in ways that felt cruel rather than fair?

“Resume work tomorrow by 8:00 a.m.,” he said calmly, his tone a stark contrast to my fury.

“You’re hired.”

I froze, my hand still on the doorknob, and slowly turned back. I wiped my face quickly, trying to regain composure.

Was this real?

I blinked, still uncertain, feeling like I had just walked through a storm only to find sunlight waiting on the other side.

“So this was a test…” I whispered under my breath, the tension slowly leaking from my shoulders.

“Thank you, sir,” I said quietly, nodding, voice trembling slightly despite my effort to appear composed.

As I turned to leave, he held me back briefly to make a call, speaking to someone named Mr. Henry about dismissing the other candidates. He had chosen me. He had actually hired me.

A wide, uncontrollable smile spread across my face. Today, against all odds, was my lucky day.

“You may go,” he said, voice softening just enough to hint at approval. “And congratulations once again.”

I nodded, stepping out of the office and into the hallway that now felt impossibly bright.

Gosh, this meant a lot to me. I couldn’t believe he had put me through such a crazy test, and my outburst my words had been a gamble. My chest ached with relief and disbelief. I thought back to the other lady who came out crying just moments before. Fear had gripped me in the same way. I had no idea what to expect, and yet somehow, I had succeeded.

I chuckled quietly to myself, shaking my head. “Why did I have to say all those things?” I muttered, half in amusement, half in exasperation. But deep down, I knew it had worked. Against all odds, I had passed. And for the first time that morning, I felt truly proud.