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.”

a faint pink. “Really?” I stammered,

mentioned it during our last call. He even said something about appreciating

and focused work

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

at the different levels. Up here, on

of the frame where a platform was taking shape. I could picture it – a clean, minimalist space

another section of the frame, “we have the brainstorming

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Chapter 67

a ping pong table for some

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

creativity.

quiet zone. Soundproofed pods, comfortable ergonomic chairs, perfect for those times when

materials, ventilation systems. It wasn’t just about

with the level of detail and thought that had gone into the design. “The mix of open space

input. You have a real eye for design and a great

her praise. It felt good to be appreciated then. faint cough cut through our conversation, and I turned to see a young man standing awkwardly

to know where to run the wiring

screen.

H

still 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. “The projector will be mounted on the ceiling, right

needs to run…”

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

interior in natural light. Demolished cubicle walls had

stainless steel appliances gleamed under the

starting to feel real, this vision we’d

spaces.

wanted to do for him. Alex had always been impersonal when it came to work and I tried but

lot to be done. We needed to finalize furniture

now neatly rolled up and tucked under her arm. “So, Amaya,” she began, her voice brimming with enthusiasm, “what do you think about the

my lips. “Honestly, Ms. Edwards, I’m impressed. It’s exactly how I envisioned it. Maybe even