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

and focused work

think he would specifically comment on how much he liked my

her voice 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.

I could picture it – a clean, minimalist space bathed in natural

She continued, leading me towards another section of the frame, “we have the brainstorming zone. Whiteboard

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Chapter 67

maybe even a ping pong table for some creative

was unexpected, but I liked the idea. A

creativity.

leading me towards the base of the structure, “we have the quiet zone. Soundproofed pods, comfortable ergonomic chairs,

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

is all fantastic,” I 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

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

me at 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 a few feet away. He wore a hard hat and a

electricians need to know where to run

screen.

H

roll of blueprints and began studying them with a practiced eye.

needs to run…”

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

spacious, with floor–to–ceiling windows bathing the interior in natural light. Demolished cubicle

in 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

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

spaces.

him. Alex had always been

still a lot to be done. We needed to finalize furniture selections,

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

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