Billionaire Boss Went On A Blind Date — Unaware He Was The One Who Left Her 10 Years Ago
Fragments of the Past
Their main courses arrived momentarily, pausing the conversation. Nathan watched as Audrey took a small bite, the familiar way she closed her eyes briefly to savor the flavor stirring memories he’d long suppressed.
Summer evenings on their tiny apartment balcony, sharing takeout containers while dreaming about their future. Her sketches spread across their bed as he massaged her shoulders.
The Christmas morning he’d proposed, kneeling beside their pathetically small tree in matching flannel pajamas.
He asked suddenly. “Why did you agree to this date, if Charlotte hadn’t told you it was me?”
Audrey set down her fork, considering the question. “Honestly, I lost a bet with my business partner.”
“She thinks I work too much.”
A wry smile touched her lips. “Apparently, we have that in common.”
“And if you’d known it was me?”
“I wouldn’t have come.”
The blunt truth landed between them like a physical object.
“You left me standing in our apartment with half the furniture gone and a note, Nathan. A note.”
He flinched at the raw pain that broke through her composed exterior. “I’ve regretted that every day for ten years.”
Her voice was quiet, but her eyes held his with an intensity that made it impossible to look away. “Have you?”
“Because from where I’m sitting, you got everything you wanted: the corner office, the billion-dollar company, the penthouse apartment.”
“What exactly did you regret?”
Before he could answer, his phone vibrated against the table. The screen displayed his CFO’s name—the third call in the past hour that he’d ignored.
Audrey said, leaning back. “Take it,”
“Some things never change.”
Ignoring the jab, Nathan declined the call again and turned his phone face down. “Nothing is more important than this conversation.”
She laughed, the sound lacking humor. “That’s new.”
She interrupted, her fingers tracing the stem of her wine glass. “Audrey, do you know what today is?”
Nathan frowned, searching his memory for the significance. It wasn’t her birthday, which was in April.
It wasn’t the anniversary of when they met or started dating. Those memories he kept locked away in a mental vault he rarely opened.
Then realization hit him with physical force. Today, ten years ago, was the day he’d left.
The day he’d accepted the position in New York and walked away from their five-year relationship, their engagement, their shared dreams.
He whispered. “You knew,”
“You knew it was me all along.”
Audrey admitted, meeting his gaze steadily. “Charlotte didn’t have to try very hard to convince me,”
“I wanted to see if it still hurt, if you still remembered, if you’d become the man you thought was more important than us.”
Nathan’s heart pounded against his ribs. “And your verdict?”
She took a sip of her wine. “I haven’t decided yet.”
“You told me once that someday I’d understand why you had to leave.”
“That someday I’d thank you for making the hard choice for both of us.”
“So here I am, Nathan. Make me understand.”
The weight of expectation in her words pressed against his chest. Ten years of justifications, of burying regret beneath achievements and accolades, of convincing himself he’d made the only possible choice.
All of it suddenly seemed hollow beneath the steady gaze of the woman he’d once promised forever. Before he could formulate a response, his phone vibrated again, insistently.
This time, with an apologetic glance, he turned it over, prepared to silence it permanently. But the message on the screen made his blood run cold.
“Urgent. Mitchell pulling out of merger. Share price already dropping in after-hours trading. Board emergency meeting called. Need you now.”
The future of everything he’d built hung in the balance of this moment. Thousands of jobs, billions in market value, his entire legacy—all potentially crumbling while he sat trying to explain a decision made a decade ago.
Audrey watched the play of emotions across his face and nodded slowly. “You should go. Duty calls.”
As Nathan looked between his phone and Audrey, he realized he was standing at the same crossroads he’d faced ten years before. And this time, the choice he made would truly be his last.
Nathan silenced his phone completely, placing it face down on the table with deliberate finality. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Surprise flickered across Audrey’s face, quickly masked by practiced skepticism. “Your empire is crumbling, and you’re choosing dinner.”
Her tone was light, but her eyes searched his with an intensity that made his chest tighten. “That doesn’t sound like the Nathan Reed who makes headlines.”
He signaled the waiter for another bottle of wine. “Maybe I’m not that Nathan Reed tonight.”
“You asked for an explanation. You deserve one.”
Audrey set down her fork, her meal barely touched. “I’ve waited ten years. I suppose I can wait through dessert.”
The restaurant around them continued its elegant rhythm: waiters gliding between tables, the soft clink of fine china and crystal. Murmured conversations were punctuated by occasional laughter.
Outside, the Manhattan skyline had transformed from golden sunset to glittering nightscape. It was a tapestry of lights and shadows against the darkening sky.
Nathan had built his life among those towers, scaling the heights of corporate America with single-minded determination. Yet sitting across from Audrey made all of it feel strangely distant.
He began, tracing the rim of his glass. “I told myself I was doing you a favor,”
“That I was setting you free to find someone who could give you what you wanted: stability, a family, weekends that weren’t interrupted by conference calls.”
Audrey remarked dryly. “How noble,”
“Self-sacrifice has always been your strong suit.”
Nathan accepted the barb with a slight nod. “I convinced myself it was better to make a clean break than to watch us slowly destroy each other.”
“You wanted to stay in Massachusetts, build your firm there. I saw New York as my only path forward.”
She pointed out. “You never asked if I would have come with you,”
“You just decided for both of us.”
He challenged. “Would you have?”
“Left everything you were building? Your family? Your community projects?”
Audrey’s silence was answer enough. The waiter approached with their second bottle, but she covered her glass with her hand.
“I’m switching to water, thanks.”
When they were alone again, she leaned forward. “You weren’t wrong about everything, Nathan. We wanted different things.”
“But you robbed us both of the dignity of choosing our own endings.”
Her voice caught, and she took a moment to compose herself. “That note. Three sentences after five years together. That’s what I couldn’t forgive.”
Shame burned through him, hot and uncomfortable. “I was a coward.”
Her blunt agreement surprised a laugh out of him. “Yes, you were.”
“Still painfully honest, I see.”
“One of us had to be.”
The undercurrent of anger beneath her words was justified, yet there was something else there too. A lingering curiosity, perhaps even a reluctant need for closure, that mirrored his own.
He asked. “So what happened after?”
“After I left?”
Audrey considered him for a long moment, as if deciding how much to share. “I threw myself into work. Moved back in with my parents temporarily.”
“Declined the job offer from Hartman and Associates that would have taken me to Chicago. Started my own firm earlier than planned.”
She sipped her water. “I dated. Not successfully.”
An unexpected pang of jealousy shot through him, irrational after all these years. “And now?”
Pride colored her voice, lending it warmth. “Now I have Campbell Designs. Fifteen employees, projects across three states.”
“We specialize in sustainable commercial architecture. That library renovation in Providence that won the green design award last year? That was us.”
Nathan recalled, genuinely impressed. “I saw that article,”
“The solar integration with the historical façade was brilliant. I had no idea that was your firm.”
She remarked with the ghost of a smile. “The world doesn’t revolve around Reed Enterprises,”
“Though I imagine that’s news to you.”
Their entrée sat forgotten as the conversation shifted into professional territory. It was safer ground where they could connect without rehashing old wounds.
Nathan found himself increasingly captivated by the confident woman Audrey had become. She was so different from the somewhat uncertain architecture student he’d left behind.
Her eyes lit up when she described her current projects, hands sketching invisible designs in the air between them. She asked eventually. “What about you?”
“Beyond what I read in business journals, are you happy, Nathan?”
The directness of the question caught him off guard. Happy—such a simple word for such a complex state of being.
He’d achieved everything he’d set out to accomplish. He had built Reed Enterprises from a promising startup into a green technology powerhouse.
He had accumulated more wealth than he could spend in several lifetimes. He earned the respect of an industry that had initially dismissed him as too young, too idealistic.
He answered carefully. “I’m fulfilled,”
“Proud of what I’ve built.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Nathan studied the rich red of his wine, buying time. Happiness wasn’t part of the equation.
Success, impact, legacy—those were the metrics that mattered. And now?
Now he had a company potentially imploding while he sat here reopening old wounds. He smiled to soften the words. “But strangely, I can’t bring myself to leave.”
Audrey’s expression softened marginally. “Why did you agree to this date, Nathan, before you knew it was me?”
“Truthfully, to get Charlotte off my back. She’s been playing matchmaker for years.”
“Convinced that my workaholic tendencies are a cry for help rather than a deliberate choice.”
He paused, weighing his next words carefully. “But I think part of me wanted one last attempt before accepting that some people aren’t meant for partnerships.”
Audrey echoed thoughtfully. “One last date,”
“That’s a rather final decision.”
“I’m turning 43 next month. The company is entering a new phase with this merger—or was, before tonight’s crisis.”
“It seemed like the right time to stop pretending I was leaving room in my life for something I never prioritized.”
“Your sister disagrees.”
“Charlotte is happily married with three kids and a golden retriever. She thinks everyone should have the same.”
Audrey laughed, the sound startling in its genuineness. “She always was determined to fix everyone around her. Remember when she tried to matchmake for Professor Wilson?”
The shared memory lightened the atmosphere between them. “The poor man ended up hiding in the faculty lounge whenever he saw her coming.”
“And yet here we are, victims of her latest scheme.”
Audrey’s smile faded slightly. “Though I suspect this one was more calculated than she let on.”
Nathan nodded slowly. “The timing is too perfect to be coincidence.”
Their gazes held across the table, acknowledging the manipulation that had brought them together. And the unspoken recognition that neither of them was truly angry about it.
The dessert menus arrived, offering a momentary reprieve from the intensity of their exchange. Nathan found himself studying Audrey’s profile as she reviewed the offerings.
The slight furrow between her brows as she concentrated, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear—gestures so familiar they made his chest ache with unexpected nostalgia.
She observed without looking up. “Your staring.”
He corrected softly. “I’m remembering,”
Her eyes lifted to his, weariness battling with something warmer. “Dangerous territory.”
“I’ve built a career on risk assessment, Audrey. Some risks are worth taking.”
Before she could respond, a commotion near the entrance of the restaurant drew their attention. Nathan recognized his executive assistant, Trent, scanning the dining room with barely contained panic.
Their eyes met, and Trent’s relief was palpable as he hurried toward their table, tablet in hand. “Mr. Reed, I apologize for the interruption,”
He began, his professional demeanor strained by obvious stress. “But the situation is critical. Mitchell’s withdrawal has triggered a panic among other investors.”
“The stock has dropped 17 percent in after-hours trading, and the board is assembled in the conference room waiting for you.”
Nathan glanced at Audrey, whose expression had closed off. The wall between them was reconstructing itself brick by brick.
She said quietly. “Go,”
“This isn’t five years and an engagement. It’s just dinner.”
Something in her dismissal sparked unexpected defiance in him. “Trent, tell the board I’ll join them virtually in 20 minutes.”
“Email me the latest numbers and have legal prepare options for forcing Mitchell to honor the terms of our agreement.”
Trent blinked in surprise. “Sir, Mr. Harrington was quite insistent—”
Nathan’s tone made it clear the matter wasn’t up for discussion. “20 minutes, Trent.”
“And have a car waiting for Miss Campbell whenever she’s ready to leave.”
When they were alone again, Audrey studied him with renewed curiosity. “20 minutes won’t save your merger.”
He agreed. “No,”
“But it’s enough time to finish our conversation.”
“Which part? The one where you explain why you left, or the one where you justify why you’re still the same man who would choose career over connection?”
