Matchmaker Mayhem
Chapter 22: Gala Chaos – The First Big Twist

Chapter 22: Gala Chaos – The First Big Twist

Ava Lee prided herself on planning. The word "chaos" wasn’t even in her vocabulary—not in her work, at least.

That’s why tonight’s matchmaking gala at the luxurious Starlight Hotel’s ballroom had to go off without a hitch. She’d spent weeks curating the guest list, coordinating with the caterers, and obsessing over every detail of the elegant decor. No exes within thirty feet of each other, no rivals sharing tables, and absolutely no surprises.

The ballroom was stunning. Chandeliers glittered above perfectly arranged tables, floral arrangements in muted pastels adorned every corner, and the scent of expensive champagne lingered in the air. A live string quartet played softly, setting the tone for romance.

This wasn’t just a gala. It was Ava’s masterpiece.

"It’s perfect," she whispered to herself as she stood near the entrance, scanning the room.

Kelly appeared at her side, popping a canapé into her mouth. "It’s quaint."

Ava’s head snapped toward her. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

Kelly shrugged, chewing thoughtfully. "Just quaint. Like, cozy. Maybe a little... vintage."

Ava narrowed her eyes. "Kelly, if you use one more backhanded compliment, I’m going to assign you to follow Ethan around with a clipboard for the rest of your life."

Kelly smirked. "Relax. It’s great. You’re great. People are already mingling, no one’s thrown a drink yet, and I haven’t seen a single teary-eyed ex lurking in the corner." She paused. "Yet."

Ava sighed, her tension easing ever so slightly. "Okay. Maybe it’s going smoothly so far."

And then, as if summoned by some malevolent matchmaking god, Ethan Chase’s voice boomed across the ballroom.

"Ladies and gentlemen!"

Ava froze, the color draining from her face. "No. No, no, no. He’s not supposed to be here!"

---

Ethan Chase stood at the front of the ballroom like he owned the place, gripping a microphone and radiating pure smugness. He wore a tuxedo so perfectly tailored it made James Bond look sloppy, and his grin sparkled like he had a Hollywood lighting crew following him around.

"Thank you all for coming tonight to celebrate the magic of love," Ethan began, his voice smooth and theatrical. "And a special thank-you to Ava Lee for hosting such a... quaint event."

Ava’s fists clenched. "Did he just call my gala quaint?"

"He did," Kelly confirmed, now recording on her phone. "And I’m 100% sending this to you later so you can rage-listen to it in private."

"I will bury him," Ava muttered through gritted teeth.

Ethan continued, oblivious—or maybe entirely aware—of Ava’s growing fury. "As some of you know, Cupid’s Algorithm has been revolutionizing the matchmaking industry. And tonight, I’m thrilled to introduce two of our most high-profile success stories."

The murmurs in the crowd grew louder as two stunningly beautiful people emerged from the shadows. Ava’s stomach plummeted.

"Everyone, please welcome Dylan Cross and Bella Hartley, two of Hollywood’s brightest stars and one of Cupid’s Algorithm’s greatest matches!"

The applause was thunderous. Ava felt like the floor had been ripped out from under her.

"This is not on the program," she hissed to Kelly.

Kelly, now fully enjoying herself, grinned. "To be fair, if I matched Dylan Cross with anyone, I’d brag about it too."

"Kelly," Ava growled, "if you’re not going to help, stop breathing near me."

---

Bella Hartley took the microphone first, her dazzling smile practically blinding the audience. She radiated effortless charm, the kind only A-list celebrities seemed to possess.

"Thank you, Ethan, and thank you, Cupid’s Algorithm, for introducing us," Bella gushed. "It’s been an... unforgettable journey."

Dylan Cross, her equally stunning match, stood next to her, looking less dazzling and more... shifty. His hands were stuffed into his pockets, and his gaze darted around the room like he was searching for the nearest exit.

"Yeah," Dylan said, his voice lacking any of Bella’s enthusiasm. "Unforgettable."

Ava frowned. Something wasn’t right.

Bella’s smile faltered for half a second before she turned to Dylan, her voice dripping with forced sweetness. "When we were matched, we thought, ’Wow, this is it! Soulmates!’ Didn’t we, Dylan?"

Dylan coughed. "Uh... sure. At first."

The room fell eerily silent, the kind of silence that precedes absolute chaos.

Bella’s smile tightened, her jaw visibly clenching. "At first?"

Dylan shifted uncomfortably. "I mean, yeah, but then we broke up."

The silence shattered as gasps rippled through the audience.

Bella spun toward Dylan, her tone dangerously calm. "What?"

"We broke up," Dylan repeated, louder this time. "Last week. Remember? You threw my PlayStation out the window?"

"That’s because you were texting your ex!" Bella snapped, her voice rising.

"I wasn’t texting her! I was asking if she wanted to buy my old golf clubs!" Dylan shot back.

"Oh, of course," Bella said sarcastically, her voice dripping with venom. "Because selling your golf clubs to your ex is totally normal."

"It’s more normal than spending three hours a day photographing avocado toast!" Dylan shouted.

"Avocado toast is my brand, Dylan!"

"It’s pretentious food for people who can’t cook!"

The audience collectively gasped again, their shocked whispers growing louder.

---

Ethan, now visibly sweating, stepped forward in an attempt to regain control. His smile, once confident, now looked like it was being held together with duct tape and desperation.

"Well," he said, his voice slightly strained, "clearly even the strongest matches face challenges..."

His eyes darted toward Ava, and his expression shifted into something sharper. "Perhaps the energy in the room isn’t as supportive as it could be."

Ava’s jaw dropped. "Did he just blame me for this?"

Kelly snorted, whispering, "Classic Ethan. Blame deflection at its finest."

"I will launch him into the dessert table," Ava muttered.

---

Before Ava could storm the stage and tackle Ethan into the nearest tray of hors d’oeuvres, a familiar voice cut through the growing chaos.

"Wow. This is... a dumpster fire."

Ava spun around to see Ryan standing near the bar, holding a glass of champagne and smirking like he’d just wandered into his favorite reality show.

"What are you doing here?" Ava demanded, marching over to him.

"Mei texted me," Ryan replied, his smirk widening. "Said you might need backup. Or a lawyer. Or both."

Ava groaned. "I don’t need a lawyer."

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? Because if you keep glaring at Ethan like that, I’m pretty sure he’s going to file a restraining order."

Ava opened her mouth to argue, but Ryan cut her off. "Seriously, though. Do you want me to get you out of here before you start hurling champagne flutes?"

Her stomach did an unwelcome flip at the teasing warmth in his tone. "Fine. Maybe I need a lawyer."

Ryan grinned. "Thought so." He reached out and grabbed her hand, tugging her toward the exit.

"Let go of me!" Ava protested, though she made no real effort to pull away.

"Not until we’re far enough away that you can’t turn Ethan into a human piñata," Ryan replied smoothly.

---

The cool night air wrapped around them as they stepped out of the buzzing chaos of the gala. Ava let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, crossing her arms to steady herself. Beside her, Ryan leaned casually against the wall, hands in his pockets, his expression a mixture of amusement and... something softer.

"Well, that was an interesting spectacle," he said, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Interesting?" Ava shot him a sharp look. "That was a full-blown disaster."

Ryan tilted his head, shrugging. "Depends on your perspective. From where I was standing, Ethan looked like the only train wreck in the room."

Ava huffed, turning away from him to pace a few steps. "Yeah, well, Ethan’s train wreck has my name on it. Now everyone thinks I can’t even control my own event. This was supposed to be my chance to prove myself, and instead, he made me look like a clueless amateur."

Ryan straightened, stepping into her path and stopping her mid-pace. His voice, usually dripping with sarcasm, softened. "Ava, listen to me. You’re not an amateur. You pulled off this entire gala—an actual, functional event with real connections happening in there—despite him doing everything in his power to derail it. You’re miles ahead of him. Ethan’s just a self-absorbed idiot with a God complex."

Ava blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. Her rapid thoughts faltered, stumbling over his words like her brain wasn’t quite sure what to do with them. "You... really think that?"

Ryan’s smirk returned, but this time, it was softer, warmer. "No. I know that. And deep down, so do you."

For the first time all night, Ava felt her pulse slow, the overwhelming tension in her chest easing. Her heart gave an annoying little flip, and she hated how much she liked it. "Thanks," she said quietly, barely managing to meet his eyes.

"Anytime," Ryan replied, his gaze steady on hers, and for a moment, he wasn’t smirking at all. There was no quip, no punchline. Just him, looking at her like she was the only thing in the world worth focusing on.

The world around them seemed to fade. The hum of distant cars, the faint buzz of the streetlights, the muffled music from the gala—it all blurred into the background. It was just Ava and Ryan standing there, and the air between them seemed to shift, crackling with something unspoken.

And then, true to form, Ryan ruined it.

"So," he said, his grin returning as he leaned closer, "are we grabbing drinks, or are you going back in there to flip a dessert table onto Ethan? Personally, I’d like to see the latter. Might make the night worthwhile."

Ava stared at him, stunned for a second, before laughter bubbled out of her despite herself. "You’re impossible."

"True," Ryan said, pushing off the wall and opening the door for her. "But I’m also right. Drinks are on me. Let’s escape before Ethan gives another speech about the sanctity of spreadsheets."

Ava hesitated, her hand brushing against the doorframe. The thought of leaving was tempting—no, logical. And yet...

Her jaw tightened. "Actually," she said, straightening her posture, "I can’t let him win like that. I’m going back in."

---

Ryan’s hand froze mid-swing, the door hovering half-open. He turned to look at her, an eyebrow arching in surprise. "You sure about that? Last I checked, the goal was to avoid a felony charge tonight."

Ava rolled her eyes, brushing invisible lint off her dress as though her confidence wasn’t still wavering. "I’m not going to physically assault him."

"Shame," Ryan said, stepping back and folding his arms. "It’d be the highlight of my night."

"I just..." Ava sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I can’t let him hijack this. This is my event, my reputation. I worked too damn hard for some smarmy tech bro to stand up in there and spout off about algorithms like they’re the only thing that matters. He probably thinks emotions are just a bug in the human operating system."

Ryan tilted his head, watching her with something like admiration lurking in his gaze. "You really hate that guy, huh?"

Ava hesitated, then huffed out a frustrated laugh. "I don’t hate him. I just strongly believe he’s the human equivalent of stale bread. Dry, flavorless, and absolutely unnecessary."

Ryan barked out a laugh so loud that Ava momentarily forgot she was supposed to be annoyed with him. "Stale bread. That’s a good one."

"Thanks," she muttered, glancing at the door. "But I’m serious. I can’t let him walk away from this like he won."

Ryan sobered, nodding. "So what’s the plan? March in there and outmatch his smugness with pure, unfiltered Ava energy?"

"Something like that," Ava said, already stepping toward the door.

Ryan held it open for her, leaning down slightly as she passed. "For the record," he murmured, his voice just low enough for her to hear, "you’re way fresher than stale bread."

Ava turned back to glare at him, but her lips betrayed her with the faintest twitch of a smile. "You’re lucky you’re funny."

"And you’re lucky I like a woman who doesn’t back down," Ryan quipped, following her inside.