hapter 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.”
My cheeks flushed a faint pink. “Really?” I stammered, surprised,
“Absolutely. He specifically mentioned it during our last call. He even said something about appreciating the balance between open
collaboration and focused work areas.”
My 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 each other’s way.
“So, “She continued, 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. Large projector screen, sleek modern furniture, the whole works.”
She pointed to a section of the frame where a platform was taking shape. I could picture it – a clean, minimalist space bathed in natural light, a perfect stage for showcasing ideas.
“Moving down a level,” She continued, leading me towards another section of the frame, “we have the brainstorming zone. Whiteboard walls,
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comfortable beanbag chairs, maybe even a ping pong table for some creative breaks.”
A grin spread across my face. A ping pong table? That was unexpected, but I liked the idea. A touch of fun could go a long way in sparking
creativity.
“And finally,” She concluded, leading me towards the base of the structure, “we have the quiet zone. Soundproofed pods, comfortable ergonomic chairs, perfect for those times when someone needs to concentrate on a deep–dive project.”
We walked around the structure, Ms. Edwards explaining the finer detalls – lighting options, soundproofing materials, ventilation systems. It wasn’t just about aesthetics; it was about creating a functional, comfortable space that catered to the diverse needs of the employees.
“This 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 creates a sense of balance.”
She beamed. “Thank you, Amayal it wouldn’t have come together this well without your input. You have a real eye for design and a great understanding of how to create spaces that work for people.”
Warmth spread through 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 toolbelt, his face streaked with dust.
“Excuse me, Ms. Edwards?” he asked hesitantly. “The electricians need to know where to run the wiring for the presentation area’s projector
screen.
H
She nodded, a smile 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 here,” she pointed to a specific spot on the plans, “so the wiring
needs to run…”
They huddled over the blueprints for a few minutes, discussing 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 shape.
The open 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 maintaining a sense of separation.
Over 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 sat waiting in front of a long countertop.
“This is 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 breaks in the comfortable lounge
spaces.
Suddenly, a 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 he wouldn’t budge.
Taking a deep breath, I forced 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 might arise.
As if on cue, Ms. Edwards reappeared beside me, 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 concerns or suggestions?”
I shook my head, a genuine smile gracing my lips. “Honestly, Ms. Edwards, I’m impressed. It’s exactly how I envisioned it. Maybe even better.”
A pleased smile spread across her face. “Excellent! That’s what I like to hear. Now, let’s talk about the color scheme for the open floor plan.
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We discussed a mix of grays and blacks with pops of color, right?”
I nodded in agreement.
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“Oh, that reminds me,” She exclaimed, snapping her fingers with sudden recollection. “Mr. Thorne’s office. He mentioned needing some minor work done in there. I know we’re both wiped after today, but could you possibly take a quick look around? Just to get a sense of the space and gather some material to work with?
Before I could voice out a protest she was already dialing Ruth’s number, directing her to show me to Alex’s office.
Letting out a mental groan, I knew the inevitable truth. Being cooped up in his space, surrounded by his scent, would undoubtedly trigger my wolf. Nonetheless, I followed Ruth’s hurried steps, a silent vow forming in my head to get in and out as quickly as possible.
The moment I stepped through the doorway, a wave of Alex’s scent hit me, sharp and familiar. It was a potent cocktail of clean cologne, leather from his chair, and the subtle undercurrent of his wolf. My breath caught in my throat, and the primal pull was almost overwhelming.
“You can go ahead and take a look around,” Ruth said cheerfully. “I’ll be waiting just outside if you need anything.”
With a curt nod of thanks, I was left alone. My initial intent was a simple sweep of the room- a quick mental note of the layout, furniture arrangements, anything that might be relevant to the design. However, my feet seemed to have a mind of their own, carrying me on an unintentional tour.
His office was the picture of understated elegance – dark wood furniture, clean lines, and muted tones on the walls. Everything felt. impersonal, almost sterile, devoid of any personality.
My gaze landed on his desk – and against my better judgment, I found myself drawn towards it.
I sat on his chair then closed my eyes, letting his scent wash over me and then as if something shocked me, I jumped up but in the process hit the desk, a button I hadn’t noticed specifically and a secret compartment opened.
This was one of those times when I should have let the rational part take control but I did not. My hand pulled the drawer open even more and there was only a single file on it. I picked it out and opened it and a gasp immediately left my throat.
It was a picture of me, naked.
But that was not the worst part. There was a man sprawled on the bed behind me and it was…
Adrian.