Matchmaker Mayhem
Chapter 45: The Envelope of Doom

Chapter 45: The Envelope of Doom

The tea shop was unnervingly quiet after the last of the guests had left. The scent of extinguished candles mingled with the faint aroma of tea leaves and frosting, remnants of a long evening that had been equal parts chaos and triumph. Ava Lee slumped into her chair behind her desk, staring at the invitation sitting like an ominous omen right in the center of the organized mess.

International Matchmaking Convention: New York City

Keynote Competition: Intuition vs. Technology

Team Competition – 2-Person Minimum.

She exhaled sharply, glaring at the gold-embossed lettering as if it might disappear if she stared hard enough. "Why do I feel like this is a setup?"

From his spot near the bookshelf, Ryan Kim raised an eyebrow. He’d loosened his tie, his dark suit jacket slung lazily over one shoulder, giving him an air of casual defiance against the formal chaos they had just survived. "Because it probably is."

Ava shot him a look. "You’re not supposed to agree with me."

Ryan smirked, leaning against the edge of her desk. "You’re the one who trusts Mei enough to open an envelope without backup."

Ava groaned and buried her face in her hands. "I shouldn’t have opened it. I should’ve burned it. Or better yet, mailed it back to her with a note that said, ’No thanks.’"

Ryan chuckled. "Come on, Matchmaker. Where’s that fearless confidence? The woman who survived a sabotage-filled gala last week isn’t afraid of a little New York chaos, is she?"

Ava peeked out between her fingers, narrowing her eyes. "This isn’t a little New York chaos. This is global matchmaking chaos. You saw the tagline! ’Intuition vs. Technology.’ They’re basically inviting me to throw down with a tech billionaire who thinks love is just a spreadsheet."

Ryan picked up the invitation, skimming it with an amused expression. "Julian Ashcroft, huh? CEO of Innovate Love. This guy looks like he wakes up every morning and asks, ’How can I crush someone’s hopes and dreams today?’"

Ava pointed at him, her eyes wide. "Exactly! And that someone will be me."

"Relax," Ryan said, setting the invitation back down. "You’re overthinking this."

"I am not overthinking!" Ava snapped, standing up and pacing behind her desk. "Do you know what it means to go up against someone like him? He’s got algorithms. Focus groups. A billion-dollar empire. I’ve got... Mei’s handwriting on a stack of client profiles."

Ryan grinned. "And me."

Ava stopped pacing, turning to look at him. "You?"

"Yeah," Ryan said, casually crossing his arms. "You’re not doing this alone. We’re a team now, remember?"

She blinked, her frustration softening. "You’re seriously volunteering to dive headfirst into this madness with me?"

Ryan shrugged. "I’ve already been dragged into worse. And besides, I’m curious to see how your matchmaking voodoo holds up against a guy who probably has an app that predicts first-date outcomes."

Ava stared at him, torn between gratitude and exasperation. "You’re insane."

"No," Ryan said, his smirk turning softer. "I just trust you."

Her heart gave an annoying little flutter at his words, but before she could respond, the door creaked open, and Mei strolled in like she owned the place—which, to be fair, she sort of did.

"Ah, good," Mei said, clasping her hands together. "You’re both still here."

"Grandma," Ava groaned, slumping back into her chair. "If this is about that envelope—"

"It’s not about the envelope," Mei interrupted, her tone far too cheerful to be trusted. "This is about this envelope." She held up another one, smaller and more mysterious-looking than the first.

Ryan groaned. "I knew it. There’s always a second envelope."

"Of course," Mei said, handing it to Ava. "This one’s for when you get to New York."

Ava eyed the envelope like it might bite her. "What’s in it?"

"Guidance," Mei said cryptically.

"What kind of guidance?" Ava pressed.

"The kind you’ll need when the time comes," Mei replied, her smile widening.

Ryan leaned closer to Ava and muttered, "I don’t trust her."

"Join the club," Ava muttered back, still staring at the envelope.

"You’ll thank me later," Mei said, patting Ava’s shoulder. "And don’t forget—this isn’t just about proving yourself. It’s about redefining what matchmaking means in the modern world."

Ava frowned. "What does that even mean?"

Mei’s grin turned mischievous. "You’ll figure it out."

Before Ava could argue, Mei turned and waltzed out of the office, Harold trailing behind her with an apologetic shrug.

Ryan picked up the new envelope, holding it up to the light as if he could see through it. "Any bets on whether this one contains another scavenger hunt?"

"Don’t even joke about that," Ava said, snatching it from him and shoving it into her desk drawer.

Just as Ava was starting to feel like the night might calm down, her phone buzzed on the desk. She glanced at the screen and groaned. "You’ve got to be kidding me."

Ryan leaned over, reading the name on the caller ID. "Ethan? What does he want?"

"Probably to gloat," Ava muttered, answering the call reluctantly. "What do you want, Ethan?"

"Ava!" Ethan’s overly enthusiastic voice boomed through the speaker. "I just heard the most delightful news."

Ava rolled her eyes. "Let me guess. You found another way to sabotage me?"

"Sabotage? Me? Never," Ethan said, his tone dripping with faux innocence. "I just wanted to wish you luck. Word on the street is you’re heading to New York for the matchmaking convention."

Ava’s grip on the phone tightened. "How do you know that?"

"Oh, Ava," Ethan said with a laugh. "I know everything. But don’t worry—I’ll be rooting for you."

"Rooting for me to fail," Ava shot back.

"Now, now," Ethan said, his voice turning smug. "We’re professionals. I’d never root for your complete failure. Just enough to keep things interesting."

Ava hung up, resisting the urge to throw her phone across the room.

"Ethan being Ethan?" Ryan guessed.

"Ethan being Ethan," Ava confirmed, sinking back into her chair.

Ryan crossed his arms, his expression thoughtful. "You know, you could use this convention to wipe the smirk off his face once and for all."

Ava snorted. "Easier said than done."

Ryan leaned in, his voice low and teasing. "Come on. Where’s your competitive spirit?"

"I don’t have a competitive spirit," Ava said, glaring at him.

"Oh, please," Ryan said, his smirk returning. "You practically threw me into a scavenger hunt just to prove you were better at matchmaking."

Ava opened her mouth to argue, then closed it. He wasn’t wrong. "Fine," she admitted. "Maybe I’m a little competitive."

"There’s the Ava I know and tolerate," Ryan said, holding out his hand. "So? Are we doing this?"

Ava hesitated, glancing at the invitation, the profile of Julian Ashcroft, and the ominous envelope in her drawer. She didn’t trust Mei. She didn’t trust Ethan. And she definitely didn’t trust Julian Ashcroft’s smarmy headshot.

But as her gaze shifted to Ryan, she realized something. For the first time, she wasn’t going into this alone. She had backup—snarky, infuriating backup, but backup nonetheless.

"Fine," Ava said, shaking his hand. "Let’s do this."

Ryan grinned, squeezing her hand. "That’s the spirit."

As the two of them began brainstorming for the chaos ahead, Ava couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning. The storm was coming—and she was about to dive headfirst into the eye of it.

---

Hours later, as Ava finally locked up the tea shop, she paused at her desk, staring at the drawer where Mei’s ominous envelope lay tucked away. The faint glow of the desk lamp illuminated the stack of papers she had pushed aside earlier—Julian Ashcroft’s profile on top, the glossy headshot staring up at her with his calculated smirk.

Ava crossed her arms and muttered, "Why do I feel like you’re going to be an absolute nightmare?"

She sat down, drumming her fingers on the desk. Curiosity itched at her fingertips, daring her to open Mei’s envelope and get a head start on whatever chaos her grandmother had planned. But Ava knew better. Mei thrived on suspense—and on setting booby traps disguised as "helpful guidance." Whatever was inside that envelope wasn’t meant for tonight.

"Nope," she said aloud, shaking her head as she shoved Julian’s profile into the drawer and slammed it shut with more force than necessary. "Not tonight."

As she flicked off the desk lamp and grabbed her coat, the streetlights outside cast long shadows across the tea shop’s quiet interior. She stood at the door for a moment, staring out at the empty street. The stillness was unsettling, the kind that comes before a storm. Somewhere out there, Julian Ashcroft was likely preparing his own game plan, Ethan was undoubtedly scheming, and Mei was probably knitting while plotting new ways to "help."

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, snapping her out of her thoughts. A text from Ryan popped up on the screen: Still brooding? Or should I bring snacks for round two of overthinking?

Ava smiled despite herself and replied: Go to bed, Ryan. This storm can wait.

As she locked the door and walked home, she couldn’t shake the feeling that her life was about to get a whole lot messier. And for better or worse, she wasn’t sure she wanted it any other way.

---

Meanwhile...

Halfway across the country, Julian Ashcroft stood in his sleek, high-rise office, the city skyline glittering behind him. He held a portfolio marked "Ava Lee" in one hand, a glass of wine in the other. His lips curved into a calculated smile as he flipped through the neatly printed dossier Mei had somehow procured.

"She’s bold," Julian murmured to himself. "Messy, but bold. This could be... interesting."

A light knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. His assistant peeked in, holding an agenda for the upcoming matchmaking convention.

"All set for New York, Mr. Ashcroft?" she asked.

"Perfectly," Julian replied, closing the folder with a snap. "Let’s see if this Ava Lee lives up to her reputation."

And with that, the storm began to churn.

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