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.

He even said something about

focused

on how much he liked my idea. Back then we each did our own thing so we didn’t get in

levels. Up here, on the top platform,

a platform was taking shape. I could picture it – a

another section of the frame,

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Chapter 67

beanbag chairs, maybe even a ping

That was unexpected, but I liked the idea. A touch of

creativity.

the quiet zone. Soundproofed pods, comfortable ergonomic chairs,

the finer detalls – lighting options, soundproofing materials, ventilation systems. It wasn’t just about aesthetics; it was about creating

enthused, genuinely impressed with the level of detail and thought that had gone into the

well without your input. You have a real eye for design and a great understanding of how

and I turned to see a young man standing awkwardly a few feet away. He

to know where to run the wiring

screen.

H

studying them with a practiced eye. “The projector will be mounted on the ceiling,

needs to run…”

a few minutes, discussing wire placement and outlet configurations. I took the opportunity to

spacious, with floor–to–ceiling windows bathing the interior in natural light. Demolished cubicle walls had been replaced with sleek glass partitions, allowing for

small kitchenette. Modern stainless steel appliances gleamed under the harsh lights, and a row of sleek bar stools sat

looking great,” I said to myself, a satisfied smile curving my lips. It was starting to feel real, this vision we’d meticulously crafted on paper, I could almost picture the employees bustling around, collaborating in the open areas, taking

spaces.

wave 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 when

myself to refocus. There was still a lot to be done. We needed to finalize furniture selections, choose color palettes for the different zones, and address any logistical challenges that

rolled up and tucked under her arm. “So, Amaya,” she began, her voice brimming with enthusiasm, “what do you think about the progress so far? Any initial concerns or

shook my head, a genuine smile gracing my lips. “Honestly, Ms. Edwards,