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.”

faint

specifically mentioned it during our last call. He

and focused work

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

reverie, “let’s take a closer look at the different levels. Up here, on the top platform, we’ll have a dedicated

a platform was taking shape. I could picture it

section of

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Chapter 67

beanbag chairs, maybe even a ping pong table for some

That was unexpected, but I liked the idea. A

creativity.

the structure, “we have the quiet zone. Soundproofed pods, comfortable ergonomic chairs, perfect for those times

options, soundproofing materials, ventilation systems. It wasn’t just about

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

have come together this well without your input. You have a

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 toolbelt, his face streaked with

electricians need to know where

screen.

H

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

needs to run…”

wire placement and outlet configurations. I took the opportunity to wander around the rest of the space, my gaze flitting across the various sections taking

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

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

vision we’d meticulously crafted on paper, I could almost picture the employees bustling around, collaborating in the open areas, taking breaks in the

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

I forced myself to refocus. There was still a lot to be done. We needed to

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

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