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.”

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

during our last call. He even said

focused work

surprise 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

here, on

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

section of the frame, “we have the brainstorming zone. Whiteboard

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Chapter 67

ping pong table for some

unexpected, but I liked the idea. A touch of

creativity.

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

finer detalls – lighting options, soundproofing materials, ventilation systems. It wasn’t just about aesthetics; it was about creating a functional, comfortable space that

the level of detail and thought that had gone

input. You have a real eye for design and a great understanding of how to create spaces that work

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

asked hesitantly. “The electricians need to know where to run

screen.

H

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,

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

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

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

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,

spaces.

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

forced myself to refocus. There was still a lot to be done. We needed to finalize furniture selections, choose color

the blueprints now neatly 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

“Honestly, Ms.