Matchmaker Mayhem
Chapter 20: The Rivalry Escalates

Chapter 20: The Rivalry Escalates

Ava stared at the screen behind her, wishing it would magically glitch and explode. Ethan’s smug grin practically radiated across the seminar stage as the audience murmured their approval of his "scientific" approach to love. The glowing testimonials and polished graphs were working exactly as intended.

Ethan stood beside her, holding his tablet like a prize he’d won in a science fair. "Any questions?" he asked, addressing the crowd with the confidence of someone who had definitely practiced this in the mirror.

"Yeah," Ava muttered under her breath, "can we skip to the part where you fall off the stage?"

The audience laughed politely, though it was clear Ethan’s high-tech spiel had left them impressed. Ava gripped her notes tighter, frustration bubbling beneath her professional facade. She needed to win them over. Fast.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward. "While Ethan’s presentation was certainly... polished," she began, her smile straining, "I’d like to point out that love isn’t something you can plot on a chart or reduce to numbers. It’s messy. It’s unpredictable. And that’s what makes it meaningful."

The crowd’s polite murmurs continued, though a few skeptical faces lingered in the front row. Ava pressed on, determined to regain their attention.

"Think about the couples you know," she said, her voice gaining strength. "The ones who found love in the most unexpected ways. Do you really think an algorithm could’ve predicted that spark? Or the chemistry that comes from shared laughter, mutual respect, and—"

"Shared tofu," Ethan interrupted smoothly, his grin widening.

The audience chuckled, and Ava’s teeth clenched.

---

Ethan turned to the crowd, gesturing grandly. "Of course, Ava has a point. Love is messy. But that’s exactly why people need tools like Cupid’s Algorithm. Why stumble around in the dark, hoping for a spark, when you can have clarity? Efficiency? Science takes the guesswork out of love."

The audience nodded approvingly, and Ethan threw a glance at Ava, as if daring her to counter him.

Ava opened her mouth, ready to argue, but before she could respond, a voice rang out from the back of the room.

---

"Oh, sure. Let’s turn love into a calculus problem. That’s romantic."

The room turned toward the source of the voice, where Ryan was casually leaning against the wall, arms crossed and smirking like he’d just walked into a sitcom.

Ava blinked. "Ryan? What are you—"

"I was in the neighborhood," he said, sauntering forward. "Figured I’d stop by and see what all the fuss was about. But I have to admit..." He gestured to Ethan with mock appreciation. "I didn’t expect to find Dr. Love peddling pie charts and bar graphs."

The crowd chuckled, and Ethan’s smile faltered, just slightly.

"And you are?" Ethan asked, his tone icy.

"Ryan Kim," he said, stepping onto the stage with the ease of someone who thrived on confrontation. "Divorce lawyer. You know, the guy who handles the fallout when all this so-called ’science’ doesn’t work out."

The audience burst into laughter, and Ava had to bite back a grin.

Ethan’s jaw tightened. "I’m not sure this is the appropriate forum for—"

"Oh, I think it’s the perfect forum," Ryan interrupted, turning to the audience. "Let me ask you something. How many of you have ever been in a relationship that wasn’t perfect? That had arguments, compromises, messy moments?"

A few hands went up, and Ryan nodded. "Exactly. Because that’s real. Relationships aren’t spreadsheets or compatibility charts. They’re hard work. They’re about showing up, even when it’s messy."

---

Ava watched him, torn between annoyance and admiration. This was her seminar, but Ryan had somehow swooped in and turned the tide with his effortless charm. And—ugh—he made some good points.

Still, she couldn’t help but wonder: Why was he here? Had Mei really sent him, or was this his way of... helping? Ava’s stomach did an annoying little flip at the thought, but she quickly squashed it. He was still Ryan. The same snarky, infuriating lawyer who seemed to delight in poking holes in her work.

And yet, as the audience warmed to him, Ava couldn’t help but feel a tiny spark of gratitude.

---

Ethan recovered quickly, adjusting his tie and forcing a smile. "That’s a lovely sentiment, Mr. Kim. But wouldn’t you agree that having a strong foundation—built on science and compatibility—makes those messy moments easier to navigate?"

Ryan tilted his head, pretending to consider it. "Maybe. But here’s the thing—science doesn’t account for the fact that people are unpredictable. Take your little hunter-vegan fiasco, for example."

The audience erupted into laughter, and Ethan’s smile tightened into something more like a grimace.

"That wasn’t—" Ethan began, but Ryan cut him off.

"Let me guess," Ryan said, holding up a hand. "The algorithm said they were compatible because they both like the outdoors, right? Never mind the fact that one of them was probably picturing a serene forest hike while the other was fantasizing about elk hunting."

The crowd laughed louder this time, and Ava had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from joining them.

"Your point?" Ethan asked, his voice sharp.

Ryan grinned. "My point is that you can’t predict people. Love isn’t about checking boxes. It’s about taking risks. Real connection happens when people show up as they are—messy, complicated, and completely human."

The applause was deafening, and Ava’s heart swelled as she saw a few audience members nodding enthusiastically.

---

Ethan forced a smile, though his eyes practically burned with irritation. "Well, Mr. Kim, thank you for your... colorful input. But I think we can all agree that while risk might be romantic, most people would prefer a little certainty in their love lives."

Ryan shrugged. "And most people end up in my office anyway. So, take your pick."

The audience erupted into laughter again, and Ethan’s smile became so strained it looked like it might snap in half.

---

As the seminar ended and the audience began to file out, Ava turned to Ryan, hands on her hips. "What was that?"

Ryan smirked. "That was me saving you from becoming Ethan’s latest victim. You’re welcome, by the way."

"I didn’t need saving," Ava said, though she couldn’t keep the gratitude out of her voice.

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Because from where I was sitting, you were one bar graph away from throwing a chair at him."

Ava sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Fine. Thank you. But next time, maybe warn me before you decide to crash a seminar."

"Where’s the fun in that?" Ryan said, his smirk widening.

As he walked away, Ava shook her head, torn between irritation and something dangerously close to admiration.

Meanwhile, Ethan stood in the corner, glaring after Ryan with an expression that promised one thing: This wasn’t over.

---

Ryan glanced at his watch and then back at her. "Lunch?"

Ava hesitated.

They had agreed, hadn’t they? She’d said yes last night. But that was before he had shown up at her seminar, hijacked the conversation, and somehow managed to win over half the audience with his devil-may-care grin.

She could say no. She should say no.

But instead, she found herself shrugging.

"Fine. But only if you pay."

Ryan grinned. "I always do."

Ava didn’t know when things had changed between her and Ryan.

There had been a time—a long, glorious time—when she had genuinely hated his existence.

Ryan Kim had always been a smug, insufferable pain. Even before she took over her grandmother’s matchmaking business, back when she was just doing wedding planning, he’d been the thorn in her side.

The divorce lawyer who lurked in the shadows of love, waiting to say "I told you so" when things fell apart. The guy who smirked too much, who somehow always managed to get under her skin. The one who seemed far too entertained by her suffering.

So when exactly had they stopped being enemies?

And when had Ryan—of all people—become someone she... tolerated?

Or worse.

Someone she almost liked.

She had plenty of reasons—she was busy, she had actual clients to deal with, and she absolutely, without a doubt, did not want to spend another hour of her life watching Ryan smirk at her like he knew something she didn’t.

And yet.

Here she was.

Sitting across from him at their usual ramen shop, watching him stir his broth like he didn’t have a single regret in life.

Ava, on the other hand, was filled with regret.

"You look tense," Ryan said, eyeing her over his tea cup. "Bad day? Or just mad that you agreed to lunch with me?"

Ava glared. "Both."

Ryan smirked, because of course he did. "You could’ve said no, you know."

Ava stabbed at her noodles aggressively. "I was tricked."

"Uh-huh."* Ryan leaned back, smug as ever. "Remind me how, exactly?"

Ava opened her mouth.

Paused.

And realized, to her horror, that she had no good excuse.

Because the truth was, she could have said no. She should have said no.

But she didn’t.

Ryan had always been the same. Smug, infuriating, too good at getting under her skin.

But lately—somehow—he’d also become... something else.

Like last night, when he brushed the stray hair behind her ear before catching himself. Like the way he hadn’t teased her about it.

Or the fact that he had shown up at her seminar today—uninvited, unannounced, and yet somehow exactly when she needed backup.

Ava hated it.

Hated that she noticed. Hated that she was even thinking about it.

She shook off the thought and took a bite of her ramen, focusing on literally anything other than Ryan Kim and whatever this was.

Somewhere between finishing her noodles and trying to pretend this wasn’t a mistake, Ava realized Ryan had stopped smirking.

He was just... watching her.

Not in his usual mocking way. Not like he was planning his next annoying comment.

Just... watching.

Ava swallowed, suddenly aware of how close they were sitting in the tiny ramen booth.

The air shifted, thick with something she refused to name.

Ryan leaned in slightly, elbows resting on the table. "Okay, real question."

"No."

Ryan chuckled, shaking his head. "You don’t even know what I was going to say."

"It doesn’t matter. The answer is still no."

Ryan smirked—because of course he did—but then, to Ava’s surprise, his expression softened.

"Why’d you actually agree to lunch?"

Ava hesitated.

Because you asked.

Because, despite everything, I didn’t want to say no.

She pushed her bowl away and grabbed her tea, stalling. "Because it’s hilarious watching you pay for my meals."

Ryan huffed a laugh, shaking his head. "Right. So, pure financial gain. Got it."

Ava shrugged, sipping her tea. "Glad we understand each other."

Ryan paid, like he always did, and they walked outside into the crisp afternoon air.

Ava shoved her hands into her coat pockets, mentally preparing for the inevitable part where Ryan said something smug and ruined the almost-peaceful moment between them.

Instead, he was quiet.

Which was worse.

She turned to him, frowning. "Okay, seriously. What’s your deal?"

Ryan blinked. "My deal?"

"You’re not annoying me. It’s unsettling."

Ryan grinned. "Oh, don’t worry. I’m still enjoying myself immensely."

Ava rolled her eyes, turning toward her office. "Great. Good talk. See you never."

She took two steps before he called after her—

"Ava."*

She stopped.

Slowly, reluctantly, she turned back. "What?"

Ryan took a step forward. Not much. Just enough.

"You know you don’t actually hate me, right?"

Ava hated that her heart did something stupid in response to that.

She scoffed. "Don’t get ahead of yourself, Ryan."

Ryan smirked—but softer this time. Like he knew exactly what he was doing.

"I’ll take that as progress."

Ava shook her head, muttering something under her breath, before turning and walking away before she did something dumb.

Like agree to lunch again.

Or—worse—start to believe he was actually serious.