Bonds

Chapter 67

-Maya’s POV-

The cacophony of construction filled the air – hammering, sawing, drill whines echoing through the uast putted space. Amidst the chaos, I

stood frozen, a lone island of calm in a sea of activity.

People scurried around me like busy ants–construction workers in hard hats, electricians wrestling with wires, a team of painters meticulously applying a coat of crisp white to the exposed brick wall. I barely registered their presence, my mind lost in a whirlwind of thoughts.

“Amaya?” Ms. Edwards‘ sharp voice cut through my fog. She stood beside me, her clipboard clutched in one hand, the other resting on her hip. “Come on, earth to Amaya. Let’s see what you think of this.”

I blinked, forcing myself back to reality. This was it. The moment of truth. After weeks of planning, mood boards, late nights spent poring over blueprints and fabric swatches, the redesign was finally taking shape. A nervous flutter rose in my stomach.

“Right, sorry,” I mumbled, forcing a smile. “Sure, what is it?”

She gestured towards the center of the room, where a team of workers were assembling a massive structure. It looked like a giant metal frame, but the details were still shrouded in scaffolding and tarpaulin.

“That.” She announced with a flourish, “is the centerpiece of our open floor plan – the collaboration hub.”

“Collaboration hub?” I repeated, peering at the skeletal structure. “Explain?”

Her smile widened. “Ah, yes! The heart of this new design. It’s a multi–level platform, essentially. We’ll have different sections dedicated to different types of collaboration – brainstorming zones, breakout areas for smaller meetings, even a quiet zone with soundproofed pods for

focused work.”

My eyebrows shot up. “That’s actually a great idea,” I admitted. “I remember suggesting dedicated quiet zones during the initial meeting with

Mr. Thorne.”

A hint of amusement flickered in her eyes. “Indeed you did,” she conceded. “And a great idea it was. Mr. Thome was quite impressed with

your suggestion, you know.”

cheeks flushed a faint pink. “Really?” I stammered,

during our last call. He

and focused

deepened. I mean I didn’t think he would specifically comment on how much he liked my idea. Back then we each did our own thing so we didn’t get in each other’s

cutting through my reverie, “let’s take a closer look at the different levels. Up here, on the top platform, we’ll have a dedicated presentation area. Large projector screen, sleek

where a platform was taking shape. I could picture it – a clean, minimalist space bathed in natural light,

section of the frame, “we

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Chapter 67

a ping pong table

my face. A ping pong table? That was unexpected, but I liked the idea. A touch of fun could go

creativity.

of the structure, “we have the quiet zone. Soundproofed pods, comfortable ergonomic chairs, perfect for those times when someone needs to concentrate on a

lighting options, soundproofing materials, ventilation systems. It wasn’t just about aesthetics; it was about creating a functional, comfortable space that catered to the diverse needs of

enthused, genuinely impressed with the level of detail and thought that had gone into the design. “The mix of open space and dedicated areas really creates

Amayal it wouldn’t have come together this well without your input. You have a real eye

spread through me at her praise. It felt good to be appreciated then. faint cough cut through our conversation, and I turned to

he asked hesitantly. “The electricians need to know where to run the wiring for the presentation

screen.

H

lingering on her face. “Of course, Michael. Let’s see…” She pulled out a roll of blueprints and began studying them with a practiced eye.

needs to run…”

for a few minutes, discussing wire placement and outlet configurations. I took the opportunity to wander around the rest of

bathing the interior in natural light. Demolished cubicle walls had been replaced with sleek glass partitions, allowing for

one corner, a team of workers was busy constructing a small kitchenette. Modern stainless steel appliances gleamed under the harsh lights, and a row of sleek bar stools sat waiting in front of

vision we’d meticulously crafted on paper, I could almost picture the employees bustling around,

spaces.

of nostalgia hit me. I thought back to a time when this was what I wanted to do for him. Alex had always been impersonal when it came to work and I tried but eventually let it go

needed to finalize furniture selections, choose color palettes for the different zones,

beside me, the blueprints now neatly rolled up and tucked under her arm. “So, Amaya,”

gracing my lips. “Honestly, Ms. Edwards, I’m impressed. It’s exactly how