Novel Coworking Novels & Stories

“Hello, Orchard. I thought you’d slither back into the story.” The storage unit shell company. C-17. A closed loop finally opening. “Location?” Victor asked. Marco zoomed in. The maps wept detail: blocks, floors, suites. “Coworking space on Ninth,” he said. “Different from last time. Private office labelled as ‘media consulting.’ Their Wi-Fi names are adorable: Beelzebub-guest, NotThePress, Printer? I hardly know her.” Jennifer snorted. “All guilt is corny.”

It wasn't until she began crossing boundaries more and more that I started avoiding her. But after that, not only did she show no restraint, she deliberately started saying crazy things about "her family" whenever lots of people were around. So she'd been digging this pit from the very beginning, just waiting for me to fall into it. Then I remembered the disgusting man I'd encountered downstairs earlier. A far more terrifying possibility suddenly occurred to me. I looked at Karen, my voice cold as ice. "So that's how it is?" Seeing that all the coworkers were siding with her, she became even more brazen.

"I only joined this company to avoid Maxwell in the first place. There are too many bad memories here. I need a clean slate." "So… Is your new venture looking for a partner?" Zachary asked, handing me a business proposal. "I've got some ideas." I opened the file, and my eyes lit up. It was the co-working model that would only appear five years later in my previous life, but this version was far more refined. "You've been planning this? Since when?" I asked. "Since the day you said you never wanted to see Maxwell again," he said earnestly. He went on, "From the moment I met you five years ago, I knew you'd change the world. I just wanted to be part of it."

“We use most spaces for multiple uses. Those who want the social or need to communicate can choose to work here between meals. Others work from their condos. We have meeting rooms that people book, otherwise they are used similarly to this but tend more toward a quiet workspace with no food or drink allowed.” “So your commute is zero. You get to choose your workspace by want and need. Now I see why your pack is so large.” “You sound like it’s a novel concept to you.” “Well, it is. Growing up in our den, you were told where you lived and what your job within the den was. Most needed to work outside of the den just to keep the den financially going.” “So you didn’t have den run businesses?”

After that…. He left. [N•M•C LIBRARY] This place could be called a book coven. Smelled of new books,as soon as you enter this place, you'll be greeted with very long and wide bookshelf filled with different types of novels,all NAOMI'S. The workers were all doing one or two thing with their computer. The time was 7:45pm at night,but they were still working their asses off. *NAOMI'S OFFICE* ________________

“Still can’t believe it, though. Novaré. It is happening.” “Feels surreal, does it not? One idea, one revolutionary conversation in you’re the penthouse, and now…” “Now we are sitting in a co working space that costs more per month than my first car.” “Your first car was a death trap with wheels.” “It had character!” “It had smoke coming out of the hood.” “Tomato, tomahto.” I shake my head, trying not to laugh. “You sure this is the right spot though? We could have gone for something smaller, less flashy.”

They came for the charm, I guessed. Two weeks later, I was still here. I was working at The Novel Grind, a bookshop that also sold coffee. Even better, I got the small apartment upstairs. My new boss used it for storage for years, so it was a mess of boxes. Still, it was mine. I loved it.

At least my nerves were starting to ease. Mr. Raymond sent a meeting invitation after lunch. This was my first experience working in a coworking space. Each company has its own space. Yet, there are common areas throughout the building. Including the meeting room. Mr. Raymond was already waiting in the meeting room. I was a little late because I had to find this room. The mature man was not sitting alone. I saw another man sitting with his back to the door. If I look around at his posture, I feel familiar with that figure.

Even early on a Saturday morning, a few shops were already opening, owners sweeping sidewalks and arranging their windows. I parked near the main square and stepped out, pulling my coat tighter against the biting cold. I walked until I found what I was looking for. A modern café that doubled as a workspace. The sign read "Cafe & Co-working" in elegant lettering. Perfect. I went inside, and warmth wrapped around me along with the rich smell of fresh coffee and something sweet baking. The interior was cozy. Exposed brick walls. Rustic wooden tables. Comfortable couches. And most importantly, a clearly designated work area with laptops available for customers.

Elite coworking ecosystems across Asia—Seoul, Mumbai, Tokyo, Bangkok. Designed for billionaires. Custom AI suites. Wellness pods. High-tech sanctuaries for the top 0.01%. And yet… Noora’s head throbbed. Half the executives’ eyes were already glazed over with polite boredom. She looked at Luciano. He sat across the table in a navy suit, tapping a single finger against the wood. Eyes forward. No emotion. No reaction. As usual. Was he really into this outdated idea?