The restaurant pulsed with quiet sophistication, its chandeliers dripping soft golden light over polished silverware and crystal glasses. Waiters glided between tables, balancing trays with an elegance that made every guest feel like royalty. The hum of laughter and conversation filled the air, paired with the faint notes of a pianist in the corner, weaving music into the fabric of the evening. Outside, New York's skyline glowed through the windows, a backdrop of power and possibility, the city itself holding its breath.

At her table, Blaire adjusted the strap of her emerald satin dress, the fabric catching the candlelight like the shimmer of a gemstone. A fresh glass of red wine rested by her hand, its surface rippling slightly as she shifted. She had prepared for this evening carefully, choosing every detail with precision—the curl of her hair, the sharpness of her eyeliner, the understated elegance of her jewelry. She wanted to feel radiant, untouchable, ready.

Tonight was supposed to be a new chapter. Riley had insisted on setting her up, swearing this mystery date would be exactly what Blaire needed. She had laughed off her best friend's meddling at first, but the truth was, a part of her wanted to believe it. Five years was long enough to stay guarded, long enough to pretend her heart wasn't still marked by the past. If anyone asked, Blaire was ready. She was ready to begin again.

Still, her fingers toyed with the stem of her glass more than they should have. The confidence she wore like a second skin in boardrooms and late-night networking events seemed thinner here, in the candlelit intimacy of a dinner-for-two setting. She told herself it was nerves—perfectly normal for a first date—but deep down, she knew it was something else. The fear of disappointment, the echo of what she once lost, pressed against the edges of her composure.

Her gaze lingered on the restaurant's entrance longer than it should have. Every shadow that passed through the doors made her spine stiffen with anticipation. She hated the way her pulse betrayed her calm exterior, the way her heart seemed to lurch every time the maître d' escorted someone across the floor. It wasn't supposed to matter this much. This was just a date. One night. One dinner. Nothing more.

Then the maître d' stopped by her table, pulling out the opposite chair with a courteous gesture. Blaire's smile froze as her eyes lifted to greet her supposed stranger. Her breath caught, sharp and immediate, as recognition crashed over her like icy water. It wasn't a stranger at all. It was him.

Her pulse roared in her ears, louder than the piano, louder than the clinking of glasses. For a moment, all her carefully built composure shattered, leaving her exposed in a way she despised. Five years, and yet it felt like no time had passed at all. The same face, the same presence—except sharper now, older, carrying the weight of years she hadn't been a part of.

Blaire's lips parted, but the words tangled on her tongue. A laugh escaped instead, soft and incredulous, as she leaned back in her chair to study him. The universe had a twisted sense of humor. Riley had set her up on a blind date, yes—but with the one man she had spent half a decade trying to forget.

"...You've got to be kidding me," she murmured under her breath, hazel eyes narrowing even as the faintest trace of a smile tugged at her lips. Her wine glass clinked as she set it down, the sound sharper than she intended. "Of all people... it had to be you."