Matchmaker Mayhem
Chapter 51: The First Panel

Chapter 51: The First Panel

The morning after the opening gala, Ava found herself in the convention’s main auditorium, gripping a notebook like it was a life raft. The room was packed with impeccably dressed matchmakers, industry leaders, and tech gurus, all buzzing with anticipation. The first panel of the convention, "Modern Love: Science vs. Intuition", was about to begin.

Ryan slid into the seat next to her, holding two cups of coffee. "Thought you might need this," he said, handing one over.

"You are a lifesaver," Ava said, taking a grateful sip. "What’s the over-under on how long it takes for someone to mention algorithms?"

"Five minutes," Ryan said, smirking. "Three if Julian’s on stage."

Ava glanced toward the panelists setting up on the elevated stage. There he was, Julian Ashcroft in all his polished, smug glory, flanked by Astrid LaFleur, the French astrologer, and Ethan Chase, who looked far too comfortable in the spotlight. Rounding out the group was a nervous-looking academic from a well-known university and a no-nonsense relationship therapist.

"This should be fun," Ava muttered, sarcasm dripping from her words.

"Fun isn’t the word I’d use," Ryan said, leaning back in his chair. "But entertaining? Definitely."

---

The moderator, a polished journalist with a voice like velvet, began with an innocuous question about the role of technology in modern relationships. Predictably, Julian pounced on the opportunity to promote his data-driven methods.

"Love is not just about emotions," Julian said smoothly, gesturing with the ease of someone who’d given this speech a hundred times. "It’s about compatibility. And compatibility can be measured, analyzed, and predicted with precision."

Ava’s eye twitched. She could already feel a rant bubbling up inside her.

Astrid, sitting beside him, looked equally unimpressed. "Ah, but you cannot predict the stars, monsieur," she said, her French accent making her sound far more charming than her words implied. "Love is written in the cosmos, not in your little spreadsheets."

Julian didn’t even blink. "The cosmos don’t have a 98% accuracy rate."

Astrid gasped as if she’d been personally insulted. "The stars are eternal! Your algorithms will be obsolete in five years!"

"Here we go," Ryan whispered, leaning closer to Ava.

Ethan, who had been lounging in his chair, decided it was time to stir the pot. "You know," he said, smirking, "I think the real question is, what’s more ridiculous: trusting a star chart or trusting your gut? Personally, I’d rather bet on data."

Ava’s hand shot up before she could stop herself. The moderator blinked, clearly surprised by the interruption. "Yes, Ms. Lee? You have a question?"

"More of a comment," Ava said, standing. She could feel Ryan tense beside her, but she ignored him. "Love isn’t about betting. It’s not about data or star charts or any of that. It’s messy and unpredictable and... human. And last I checked, humans aren’t algorithms."

The room buzzed with murmurs, and Ava felt her cheeks heat. Julian turned his gaze to her, his smile cool and condescending. "Ah, Ms. Lee. A champion of intuition, I see. Tell me, how often does ’gut instinct’ lead to lasting matches?"

"More often than you think," Ava shot back. "Because love isn’t something you can control. It’s something you nurture. It’s about connection, not calculation."

The moderator, clearly enjoying the drama, gestured for Julian to respond. "While I appreciate your... passion, Ms. Lee," Julian said, his tone infuriatingly polite, "I find it ironic that someone in your profession would rely on chaos instead of order. Isn’t the goal to create something lasting?"

"Order doesn’t guarantee lasting," Ava said, her voice firm. "And chaos doesn’t mean failure. Sometimes, the best matches come from the unexpected."

Astrid clapped, her bracelets jingling. "Bravo! Finally, someone with sense!"

Ethan, ever the troublemaker, leaned forward with a grin. "This is going to be fun."

---

After the panel ended, Ava felt a mix of pride and regret. On one hand, she’d stood her ground. On the other, she was now firmly on Julian’s radar—and not in a good way.

"That was... something," Ryan said as they made their way to the networking lounge.

"I couldn’t just sit there and let him act like he’s got love all figured out," Ava said, her steps quick and agitated. "He’s insufferable."

"True," Ryan said. "But now he’s probably plotting your downfall. And let’s be honest, he’s the type to have spreadsheets for that too."

Ava groaned. "I need caffeine."

"Or wine," Ryan offered, gesturing toward a nearby bar. "Your call."

---

They didn’t even make it to the lounge before Mei appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, her eyes alight with mischief. "Ava! That was brilliant!" she said, throwing an arm around her granddaughter.

"You were watching?" Ava asked, cringing.

"Of course I was! You were fabulous," Mei said. "Though you could’ve landed a stronger closing line. Something like, ’Let’s see your algorithm predict this,’ and then dropped the mic."

Ava stared at her. "This isn’t a reality show, Grandma."

"Yet," Mei said, unbothered. "Now, what’s the plan?"

"The plan," Ava said, her voice tight, "is to survive this convention without strangling anyone."

"That’s a boring plan," Mei said, waving a hand. "You need something bold! Something memorable!"

"Like what?" Ava asked warily.

Mei’s grin turned downright diabolical. "Leave that to me."

Ava opened her mouth to protest, but Ryan cut in. "You know what? Let her handle it. What’s the worst that could happen?"

Ava shot him a glare. "You’ve clearly never met Mei."

---

By the time they made it to the lounge, Ava’s nerves had settled—slightly. She and Ryan grabbed a small table near the back, nursing their drinks as the room buzzed with conversation.

Julian was across the room, effortlessly charming a group of industry leaders. Astrid was flipping tarot cards at a nearby table, much to the delight of her audience. Ethan, unsurprisingly, was nowhere to be seen—probably off plotting something.

"Look at them," Ava muttered. "They’re all so... polished."

"You’re polished," Ryan said.

"I’m frazzled," Ava corrected. "There’s a difference."

Ryan leaned back in his chair, his expression calm. "You’re underestimating yourself. You’ve got what they don’t."

"What’s that?" Ava asked, skeptical.

"Heart," Ryan said simply. "And the ability to think on your feet. They’ve got routines and scripts. You’ve got instincts. That’s why you’re going to win."

Ava studied him, her frustration softening. "You’re annoyingly good at this whole supportive thing."

Ryan smirked. "Don’t get used to it."

As they sat there, the weight of the competition settled over Ava like a thick fog. But for the first time, it didn’t feel suffocating. It felt... manageable. Because for all her doubts, she wasn’t facing this alone.

And with Mei in the mix, one thing was certain: chaos was inevitable.

But, of course, chaos didn’t wait long.

---

It started innocently enough. Mei had appeared in the lounge, her sharp eyes scanning the room like a hawk hunting prey. Ava had noticed her grandmother wandering toward a group of attendees near the appetizer table, but she’d been too distracted by Ryan’s commentary on Julian’s overly rehearsed charm to pay much attention.

That was her first mistake.

"I’ll be right back," Mei had said earlier, waving a dismissive hand at Ava. "Just mingling."

But what Mei called "mingling" always had strings attached—usually in the form of unsolicited advice or impromptu matchmaking.

Five minutes later, the unmistakable sound of raised voices cut through the lounge. Ava turned just in time to see Mei standing in the middle of a group of matchmakers, gesturing animatedly as she introduced two startled strangers.

"Eric, meet Claudia," Mei said, her voice ringing out like a carnival barker’s. "Eric runs a tech startup in Chicago, and Claudia here specializes in non-verbal communication workshops. You two have so much in common."

Claudia looked slightly alarmed, clutching her wine glass like a lifeline. Eric, on the other hand, seemed caught between amusement and panic.

"Grandma," Ava hissed, springing up from her chair and hurrying over. "What are you doing?"

"Helping," Mei said brightly, completely unbothered. "Claudia was just telling me she’s looking for new connections, and Eric here is definitely single."

Ava’s face burned. "This isn’t your event! You can’t just—"

"Oh, hush," Mei said, waving her off. "If anything, I’m elevating the event. Look, they’re already chatting."

To Ava’s dismay, Mei wasn’t wrong. Eric and Claudia had started an awkward but genuine conversation, their initial shock melting away. Ava groaned, rubbing her temples.

"Don’t worry, dear," Mei said, patting her shoulder. "I’ll keep it subtle."

"That wasn’t subtle!" Ava snapped, but Mei had already moved on, weaving through the crowd with Harold trailing behind her, oblivious to the ripple of confusion she left in her wake.

Ryan appeared at Ava’s side, holding a plate of hors d’oeuvres. "You know, she’s kind of a matchmaking genius. In a chaotic, no-boundaries kind of way."

Ava glared at him. "Don’t encourage her."

Ryan smirked. "Too late."

---

As Ava tried to wrangle her grandmother back toward their table, Ryan wandered off to refill his drink. Unfortunately, his timing couldn’t have been worse. Julian, holding court near the bar with a group of polished tech moguls, was mid-monologue about Innovate Love Inc.’s newest algorithm when Ryan bumped into the edge of the table, sending a small cascade of Julian’s meticulously arranged handouts to the floor.

"Whoops," Ryan said, crouching down to retrieve the glossy brochures. "Sorry about that."

Julian turned slowly, his expression hovering between annoyance and disdain. "Ah, Mr. Kim, isn’t it? Ava’s... assistant?"

Ryan raised an eyebrow, handing back the brochures with a slow smile. "Partner," he corrected. "And it’s Ryan, actually."

Julian’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. "Of course. My mistake."

Ava, watching the exchange from a distance, felt her stomach twist. Julian had already been a thorn in her side, and now Ryan was getting dragged into the mix.

"Interesting conversation you were having," Ryan said, his tone light but pointed. "Predicting love with numbers. How does that work when emotions come into play?"

Julian’s polished demeanor faltered for a fraction of a second, but he recovered quickly. "Emotions are just patterns. With enough data, even the most irrational behavior can be understood—and predicted."

Ryan straightened, crossing his arms. "So, what? Your algorithm can predict everything? Even, say, what happens when someone spills a drink on you?"

Before Julian could respond, a waiter passing by accidentally jostled Julian’s arm, sending a splash of champagne across his pristine suit. Ava bit back a laugh as Julian’s calm facade cracked ever so slightly.

"Excuse me," Julian said stiffly, stepping away to deal with the mess.

Ryan returned to Ava’s side, looking far too pleased with himself.

"What did you do?" Ava asked, her tone equal parts exasperated and amused.

"Nothing," Ryan said innocently, though the glint in his eyes suggested otherwise. "I think Julian’s algorithm needs a crash course in unpredictability."

---

By the time Mei rejoined them, her matchmaking experiment had left the room buzzing. Ava could hear whispers about "the eccentric woman by the appetizers" as she sank back into her chair, exhausted.

"Well, that was productive," Mei said, sipping her champagne like a queen surveying her kingdom.

"Define productive," Ava muttered.

"Eric and Claudia exchanged numbers," Mei said, grinning. "And I got a few people interested in Harold’s pickleball league."

Ryan blinked. "Harold plays pickleball?"

"Like a pro," Mei said proudly.

Ava groaned, burying her face in her hands. "I can’t take you anywhere."

"You’ll thank me when you win this thing," Mei said, patting her granddaughter’s head like a child. "Now, go mingle. And remember, chaos is your friend."

Ava stared after her grandmother, wondering—not for the first time—how on earth she was supposed to survive this convention.

---

As the mingling session wound down, Ryan found himself watching Ava more than the room. Despite her exasperation, there was a fire in her that he couldn’t help but admire. She might be drowning in chaos, but she was also holding her own—arguing with Julian, navigating Mei’s antics, and somehow managing to stay composed through it all.

"You’re staring," Ava said, catching him off guard.

"Just admiring your strategy," Ryan said, smirking. "You’re like a general in the middle of a war zone."

Ava rolled her eyes. "More like a juggler trying not to drop flaming torches."

"Either way, it’s impressive," Ryan said, his tone sincere.

Ava blinked, clearly surprised. "Thanks."

As the room began to clear out, Ava sighed, leaning against the table. "You know, for all the chaos, I think I survived."

Ryan handed her the last sip of his drink. "You didn’t just survive. You thrived. And if this was just the first day, I can’t wait to see what comes next."

Ava groaned. "That’s not comforting."

Ryan laughed, clinking his empty glass against hers. "Welcome to Matchmaker Mayhem, Matchmaker."

Despite herself, Ava laughed too. For all the madness, she knew one thing for sure: it wasn’t going to be boring.