Rust red, gold, amber, olive green and coffee brown

I remember the good old days. When I used to love autumn and its captivating earthly colors. Days when my whole body felt a ripple of joy when I lay in a pile of leaves with different colors.

There was usually something in the air that felt just right in the fall, but here I am, with a dread that makes me wish I had a remote that controlled the seasons. If I did, I would press the button and skip to the middle of winter.

My alarm rings. I snooze a few times before scrambling out of bed. My shower is as quick as taking a gulp of milk.

I rush to our small building to clean the offices before the important staff arrives. It's six o'clock, and I have two hours before the bossing around begins. I do my best to ensure that all the surfaces are shiny, and I work as fast as I can.

I used to look forward to autumn. That was until I found myself holding a leaf blower, the noise sounding like something in the distance, and the leaves going in a million different directions.

A leaf blower is very effective until the wind decides to intervene and make things a little more interesting, or perhaps frustrating? No, never frustrating. I love the dancing of the colorful leaves to the autumn wind.

The leaf blower and I give up after a few minutes of futile attempts to control the direction of the leaves. I almost drop it, but I remember that I would have to buy another one if I deliberately broke it, or did they say even if it wasn’t deliberate?

The staff arrives, greeting me as they head to their respective offices. Dumi, one of the finance guys, steps out of his warm car at 07:50. He stops and glances at me and then at the leaves. "Don't forget that you are supposed to be done at nine; we can't have clients seeing this mess." He gazes at his watch with a sour expression on his face. Then, he walks into the clean building, a briefcase in hand. He is wearing a suit like he always does, and I can tell by the way he walks that he feels important.

I try to find the exact direction of the wind so that the leaf blower, the wind, and I could work together, but I end up letting out an exasperated groan. The leaves, on the other hand, are showing off like peacocks, displaying their beauty.

The wind creates annoyingly beautiful swirls of rust red, gold, amber, olive green, and coffee brown. A perfect mixture of the beginning, the middle, and the end fused in one. All from one tree.

After some time, the leaf blower and I win the fight against the wind and realize I forgot the second star of the show: the broom. I head to the storeroom to look for a broom that I will use to round up the pretty leaves, but my phone vibrates. "Tanya, would you please quickly come to my office? I spilled something," Amelia from the other end of the line says.

I get in the elevator to rush to Amelia's office. The poor soul might've spilled on the side of the table where she has to place her papers, a laptop, or files. She would be stuck if I don’t get to her office quickly enough.

I charge through her door like I'm at the emergency room, and when I look down at the table, I make a diagnosis that the table needs a cloth to wipe up the water. I pat the pocket of my dustcoat to look for a cloth and realize that I dropped it on the way to Amelia's office.

She gives me a tight smile before nodding towards the cloth on the far end of her office. I mumble my "sorry." She shakes her head, and I mumble my apology again after performing my magic of making the water disappear.

I hurry back to the parking lot and remember how I was supposed to get the broom from the storage. Some of the leaves that I left in a corner have decided to rebel and scatter around the parking lot.

I decide to use the broom instead of a leaf blower to collect the rebellious leaves. At this point, I'm on autopilot, and I have only one goal: to finish on time. The appreciation for the beauty of the autumn leaves slowly seeps out of me with each sweep.

I catch a falling leaf, and I try to summon a smile. Instead, I sigh and glare at the amber leaf, then at the rooftop adorned with the leaves that fell off the tree.

My phone vibrates again, and I groan before taking it out of the pocket. It's Zenande, the queen of tea. I try my best to sound as cheerful as possible as I take the call. "Hello, Zenande."

"Tanya, I need tea," she says. "And also I sneezed when I got in my office today. Why is that so? I think you didn't wipe the surfaces properly."

"I'm so sorry. I'm on my way." I drop the broom and head to the kitchen to make Zenande's tea. She doesn't thank me, of course. I'm used to that. I get a cloth and cleaning equipment to wipe the surfaces of her office. She goes to her friend's office to gossip while she waits. It's only eight in the morning, and I'm already exhausted.

When I'm done, I call her, and she hands me her empty cup before walking back in her office. "Would you like anything?" I ask her.

"No, she shakes her head. I brought you chocolate cake. I know how much you love it. It's in the refrigerator in the kitchen."

"Oh! Thank you, but I have decided to cut back on sugar," I say, a smile plastered on my face. "If that will be all, please excuse me."

"Yes, that's all," she smiles back. "Will you please give it to someone else? You know, I like to give; it's in my nature." I glance at her friend out of the corner of my eye and I'm glad that she's rolling her eyes.

"Of course," I force my lips to curl up. "You are very considerate."

She gives me a self-satisfied grin, and I nod before walking out of her office.

I wash her cup in the sink. That's when Terry hands me his two empty lunch boxes. I wash them without uttering a single word.

The cold air pinches my cheeks when I head back out. The parking lot is giving autumn aesthetics. The leaves are scattered again, and some more fell off the roof. How I appreciate the wind.

The time is now 08:52. Somehow, today's time seems to move a little faster than usual.

"Are you still not done?" Dumi startles me.

The feeling that I have been trying to ignore intensifies. It bubbles within like boiling water, but the only thing that I let out is a steam of a sigh before allowing myself to stabilize the storm of emotions swirling in me.

I roll my eyes and fix my face before turning around to face him.

"No, but I'm almost done," I give him a customer service smile. I don't like using strong words, but no matter how I try to be reasonable, I can't. I despise him. Not because of how he treats me, but because he comes from a place of privilege. He has no idea how long it takes to sweep off leaves or the amount of work it takes. My shoulders hurt.

Dumi never took odd jobs to pay for his tuition; his parents did that. He never had to take more odd jobs while looking for the one he studied for. He has never even for a moment been in a situation whereby he was forced to serve a person or people. It was always the other way around. He was never ordered around by multiple people, and he only answers to one person. He steps on the coffee-brown leaves as he walks to his car. "I like how crunchy they sound under my shoes," he says as he walks away.

More leaves fall off the roof or the tree itself. Each time I sweep, I huff in frustration.

My phone vibrates, and it's Margaret from HR to tell me that I should be done by now. I need to be at the reception. The time is 09:02.

"Please give me a few minutes," I say to her. "I'm almost done." I glance at the leaves behind me that keep falling. I crouch and pick one up. I end up staring at the mixture of red and yellow before tucking it in my pocket.

I take off my dust coat and wear high heels to start my day as a receptionist. I can't believe I earn minimum wage for all this.

"My favorite employee," Mr. Falcon walks towards the reception. I hate how he always asks about our lives, our families, and if we are okay, as if he cares. "You know, without you, I don't know what we would do."

"Thank you, sir." I manage a smile. "I wanted to ask, though, if you received my application for the advertised position. I studied law and..."

"I did, and I know what you studied, Tanya. We are looking into every candidate. We want the selection to be fair."

Translation: I'm going to continue with my professional leaf-blowing job, manning the reception, cleaning toilets and offices, and running around this building like a headless chicken making coffee and tea for everybody. Then I have to run to the reception every time a client arrives.

"But I thought this position was mine already." I try not to sound too desperate.

"I thought you loved your job," he says accusingly. "Anyway, if you get selected for this new position, I'm more than happy to have you as one of my attorneys."

"I am doing a job that is supposed to be done by at least three people. All alone."

"I'm disappointed by your words, Tanya," he shakes his head. "You are so good at your job. I didn’t really see any need to hire someone else, you know. We pay you for coming to work two hours early, don't we? If we hired someone else to be a cleaner, you wouldn't get the money."

"But I don’t mind..."

"Listen," he interjects. "If we hired someone else for cleaning and for making tea, we were going to have them around for more hours, obviously. Unfortunately, we didn't include that kind of money in our budget."

He starts giving me a lecture that I now know by heart. Everyone in this building tells me it would be unnecessary to hire someone to assist me with the cleaning. Most people don't come to the reception anymore. They prefer to call our offices. So, what would you be doing all day?

"You are right Mr Falcon," I nod. "I'm sorry, and I understand."

"I knew you would. You know. You are doing a great job."

"Thank you."

"Good. Please check out the parking lot when you get the time. The leaves are all over the place," he says in an overly polite tone. "Did you forget to blow them today?"

"I will get to it, sir."

The moment I knock off, I head straight to the office of the man with no conscience. At this point, I would do anything to get out of this hellhole. I knock once and open the door without waiting for his reply. He obviously knows I'm here. His office is dimly lit, just as I remember it.

His seat is turned, and he's facing the wall instead of the table. He slowly turns around, probably for dramatic effect, and I roll my eyes. "When they told me you were at the reception, I almost fell off my chair with surprise."

"That doesn't sound like something you would do, with your level of elegance."

He chuckles lightly. "You do know that I'm smart enough to know when you are not being sincere?" He raises a single eyebrow.

"I know," I deadpan.

"Good. So, do you have the files?"

He still looks the same. The cold, calculating eyes and the lips that barely smile. I notice some grey hair here and there, but there isn't much that has changed about him.

After our last encounter, I never thought he would speak to me ever again. At that time, I didn't mind; I had just started at my new job at Falcon and Associates. My future was bright, but he wanted me to spy for him, so I gave him the middle finger, and I was proud of myself.

I place the memory stick on the table, but I cover it with my palm. It has all the company scandals, information on the cases and the clients. "If I give you this information about Falcon's company, do you guarantee a job for me?"

He sighs, bored. "The contract is already drafted."

"But you know that I can't trust you." I narrow my eyes, but as expected, he is still hard to read. Probably harder since I haven't spent time with him in a while.

"Do you know what the problem is now?" His eyes light up. "You have nowhere to go." His chuckle is more of an exhale than a light laugh. "But I'm in a good mood, so I'll humor you." He presses a button on his computer. My phone vibrates. Instead of saying anything, he stares at me until I take out my phone.

I open the mail and a gasp escapes my lips the moment I read the top of the document. He is watching me, his face still expressionless.

"You are making me COO?"

"Yep."

I picture myself in this company and the whispers that would follow everywhere I went. I would be like Terry, Mr. Falcon's son. "Nepotism?" I ask him.

"It's everywhere," he shrugs, "but I'll be keeping a close eye on you."

"Great," I sigh.

"Do I have to wait for you to serve your notice? I want to destroy Falcon as soon as possible. I'm not very patient, you know that..."

"I think 'effective immediately' is much better," I cut him off. "Falcon and his staff will be entertained."

"Entertained?" His forehead wrinkles with confusion.

"They will have so much to talk about for months, and it will be fun for them to start taking turns manning the reception while they look for my replacement. The best part is I won't be there to train the new receptionist."

"That's evil," he says flatly.

"I don't care."

He grins this time. A wide smile with teeth and everything. He looks a little more approachable, but that doesn't erase the fact that I hate this man and I fear him more than anything in the world. "Where did your integrity go?" he chuckles.

"It went into the bin with the leaves," I sigh.

"I wonder what your mother would say about us working together. She hated it when I brought down my competitors. Can you believe that? Always preaching about kindness. I'm glad you are not naive."

"Mom wasn't naive," I say defensively.

"I didn't say she was," he says calmly.

Of course I'm the crazy one. Again. I'm emotional, and I raise my voice unnecessarily. This is why he wanted a son. "I still hate you," I mumble.

"How you feel about me doesn't affect me in any way." He starts typing something on his computer. "I knew that you would forget all about your integrity. You are my daughter, the apple of my tree. It's either you just didn't want to act the part or you were scared."

"I'm a good person," I say more to myself than to him.

"Right..."

I lift my hand and let him take the stick. "Are we done?" I get up.

His lips curl up. "Any request before you officially start?"

"I need a week off and a paid holiday."

"Where?" His lips twitch.

"Anywhere where it's not autumn."

"Done," he says in his business tone. "Send me the invoice when you are done with the bookings. I can't wait to see Falcon's face when I tell him you betrayed him."

"Me too," I smile involuntarily.

This feels like jumping out of the frying pan into the fire. This man could find a reason to fire me or demote me. That file has everything he wanted. I have nothing else to entice him, and he'll always be an attorney and a businessman instead of a father.

"I need to know that you would never fire me," I blurt out. He raises his eyebrows. "Or demote me," I quickly add.

His eyes light up. "Tanya, I'm a practical man. I can't guarantee that. Just don't give me a reason to do those things."

"Bring back my stick?"

"Fine," he sighs. "You won't get fired or demoted. I'll include it in the contract. But I'll also add that if you do things that force me to. I won't hesitate."

When I leave his office, I shove my hands in the pocket of my coat to keep them warm. My hand touches something that feels familiar. The leaf that I picked up in the morning. My stomach drops

"It's over," I whisper to myself. No matter how much I try to picture myself giggling and lying on a grass in a park, on a pile of autumn leaves, I feel my throat closing in. I drop the leaf on the pavement.