Matchmaker Mayhem
Chapter 52: Love Under Pressure

Chapter 52: Love Under Pressure

The ballroom is transformed overnight into a labyrinth of speed-dating tables, each station manned by a mix of attendees, convention staff, and test clients. Organizers reveal that the "matchmakers" must pair off participants on the spot based on the briefest of interactions—completely blind to personal histories, quirks, or compatibility stats.

Ava’s stomach twists as the rules are explained. This isn’t her forte—she prides herself on taking time to know her clients.

"Quick matchmaking?" Ava whispers to Ryan as they take their assigned station. "This is like trying to bake a cake without knowing the recipe."

Ryan shrugs, leaning against the table. "Sounds like Mei’s kind of chaos."

And as if summoned, Mei sidles up, clipboard in hand. "Don’t worry, dear, I’ve already been ’reading the room.’" She winks, tapping her nose. "It’s all about intuition."

Ava narrows her eyes. "No, it’s about sabotaging me, isn’t it?"

"Sabotaging? Me?" Mei gasps, feigning innocence. "I would never. Now, chin up! First impressions are everything. And remember, if all else fails, everyone loves a good scandal."

Ava groans as Ryan laughs. "I’ll leave you two to it," Mei chirps, disappearing into the crowd to wreak her usual brand of havoc.

As the buzzer signals the start, Ava jumps into action. Each round of participants rotates between tables, leaving Ava and Ryan barely a minute to observe, analyze, and pair them off. At first, Ava tries to approach it methodically, asking thoughtful (if rushed) questions about preferences and interests.

But Ryan—ever the wildcard—leans fully into gut instinct.

"Those two," Ryan says, pointing at a high-energy businesswoman and a quiet accountant. "Opposites attract."

Ava hesitates. "I don’t know... She might bulldoze him."

"Or he’ll balance her out," Ryan counters. "Come on, it’s not like we have time for a dissertation."

Against her better judgment, Ava relents. To her surprise, Ryan’s pairing works: the businesswoman and the accountant leave the table laughing, already swapping contact details.

"Beginner’s luck," Ava mutters.

Ryan grins. "Admit it. I’m good at this."

Things take a turn when Julian, stationed at the table across from Ava’s, begins working his particular brand of charm. Where Ava relies on warmth and intuition, Julian turns every interaction into a sales pitch for his data-driven approach. He drops phrases like "optimized compatibility scores" and "predictive relationship algorithms" while sneaking smug glances at Ava.

Worse, he starts subtly sabotaging her matches by swooping in after her round ends, "re-interviewing" the participants and convincing them they’d have been better matched at his table.

"Are you seeing this?" Ava hisses to Ryan after the third time Julian interferes.

"Oh, I see it," Ryan says, narrowing his eyes. "Want me to spill coffee on him?"

"Tempting," Ava mutters. "But we’re better than that."

Ryan raises an eyebrow. "Are we?"

---

Meanwhile, Mei is delighting in the chaos. She somehow convinces two separate tables to "swap roles" and matchmake each other. At one point, she pulls Harold into the mix, declaring him an "example of how love blooms when you least expect it."

Harold, ever the good sport, finds himself paired with a no-nonsense divorce lawyer named Margot, who surprises everyone by laughing at one of his pickleball jokes. Mei looks positively triumphant as Margot and Harold exchange numbers, much to Ava’s horror.

"Grandma, this isn’t about you!" Ava snaps as Mei winks and flits away.

---

As the clock ticked down to the final round, Ava stared at the remaining participants with a sense of dread. She and Ryan had managed to stay afloat so far, but this last pairing would either seal their fate or blow up in their faces. Sitting before them were two of the most difficult participants yet: a fiercely independent entrepreneur named Natalie, who seemed allergic to the idea of compromise, and a skeptical poet named Oliver, who had spent the entire evening loudly critiquing the concept of matchmaking.

"I’m just here for the free snacks," Oliver announced, crossing his arms and glaring at Ava and Ryan like they were the enemy. "Love is just a construct to sell greeting cards."

"Charming," Ava muttered under her breath.

On the other side of the table, Natalie tapped her manicured nails against the surface, her expression making it clear she wasn’t impressed. "Look, I run three startups, I don’t have time for games. If you’re going to pair me with someone, make sure they can keep up."

"We’re doomed," Ava whispered, her heart sinking.

Ryan, however, looked entirely unfazed. He leaned forward with an easy grin, turning his attention to Oliver. "So, you’re here for the snacks. Got it. But what’s your favorite snack? Big question."

Oliver blinked, clearly caught off guard. "What?"

"Snacks," Ryan repeated. "Are you a chips guy? Pretzels? Something fancy, like truffle popcorn?"

For a second, Oliver just stared at him, but then—much to Ava’s surprise—a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Truffle popcorn is overrated. Salted caramel all the way."

"Excellent choice," Ryan said, nodding solemnly. "Sweet, salty, and just pretentious enough to feel fancy. Very poetic of you."

Ava watched in astonishment as Ryan continued bantering with Oliver, drawing him out with humor and a surprising amount of charm. The skeptic’s rigid posture gradually relaxed, and soon he was chuckling at Ryan’s witty comments about overpriced snacks and bad poetry.

Meanwhile, Ava turned her attention to Natalie, who had her arms crossed and a skeptical eyebrow raised. Ava knew she needed to find some common ground—fast.

"You mentioned startups," Ava said, keeping her tone light but focused. "What’s your favorite part about running your own business?"

Natalie’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if deciding whether Ava was worth her time. Finally, she said, "The freedom. I don’t have to answer to anyone, and I can make my own rules. It’s not for everyone, though."

"I get that," Ava said, nodding. "I run my own business too, and it’s definitely not for the faint of heart. But I bet you’re also really good at reading people—it’s kind of a survival skill in the entrepreneur world, isn’t it?"

Natalie tilted her head, clearly intrigued. "It is. You have to figure out who’s worth your time and who’s just wasting it."

"Exactly," Ava said, leaning in slightly. "Which means you’d probably appreciate someone who values your time as much as you do. Someone who doesn’t play games but still knows how to surprise you."

Natalie’s lips curved into a faint smile. "Okay. You’re better at this than I expected."

Ava let out a breath of relief, turning to Ryan just as the buzzer signaled the end of their one-on-one sessions.

"Okay," Ryan said, leaning back in his chair. "Here’s the plan. Natalie’s a powerhouse who needs someone to challenge her but also respect her independence. Oliver’s sharp, creative, and—underneath the cynicism—probably looking for someone who appreciates his quirks."

"You think they’ll balance each other out?" Ava asked, hesitant.

"I think they’ll either hit it off or kill each other," Ryan said, smirking. "Fifty-fifty shot."

Ava bit her lip, glancing between Natalie and Oliver. On paper, they were opposites, but something about Ryan’s logic clicked. Taking a deep breath, she made the call.

"Oliver," she said, turning to the poet. "Meet Natalie. I think you two might surprise each other."

Natalie raised an eyebrow but stood, extending her hand to Oliver. "Alright, let’s see if you’re worth my time."

Oliver hesitated, glancing at Ava like he was looking for an escape route. But then Ryan nudged him forward with a grin. "Come on, salted caramel. Show her your good side."

To Ava’s shock, Oliver took Natalie’s hand and muttered, "I can’t promise much, but I’ll try not to waste your time."

As they walked away, Ava let out a shaky breath, her heart pounding.

"Well?" Ryan asked, watching the pair. "What do you think?"

"I think I’m going to have an aneurysm before this convention is over," Ava said, though her lips curved into a reluctant smile.

---

The ballroom buzzed with energy as the organizers began tallying the scores from each table. Ava stood to the side with Ryan, nervously fidgeting with her clipboard. Across the room, Julian lounged against a table with the infuriating confidence of someone who had already decided he’d won. Astrid stood nearby, inspecting a crystal pendant and muttering something about "Mercury retrograde ruining the vibes."

"I swear, if Julian smirks at me one more time, I’m going to lose it," Ava muttered.

Ryan smirked, leaning casually against the wall. "Don’t worry, Matchmaker. You’ll wipe that smug grin off his face soon enough."

When the results were finally announced, Ava held her breath as the announcer worked their way up the leaderboard.

"In third place," the announcer said, "Team LaFleur and her... stars."

Astrid gave a dramatic sigh, clutching her pendant like it was the only thing keeping her standing. "It was the moon phase," she whispered to no one in particular.

"In second place," the announcer continued, "Team Lee and Kim!"

The room erupted in polite applause, but Ava’s stomach twisted. Second place wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t first.

"And in first place... Team Ashcroft and Chase!"

Julian’s smile widened as he gave Ava a smug little salute from across the room. Ethan, standing beside him, added a theatrical bow for good measure.

Ava clenched her jaw, her nails digging into her palm.

"Second place," Ryan said, clapping her on the shoulder. "Not bad for our first round."

"It’s not bad," Ava admitted, though her eyes stayed fixed on Julian. "But it’s not good enough."

Ryan followed her gaze, his expression softening. "You’ll get him next time."

From across the room, Julian’s voice carried over. "Nice effort, Lee! I’m sure second place feels just as good as first."

Ryan bristled, taking a step forward, but Ava grabbed his arm. "Don’t. He wants to get under my skin."

"He’s doing a great job," Ryan muttered, his jaw tight.

Ava took a deep breath, forcing herself to smile. "Let him gloat. I’m not done yet."

As they left the ballroom, Ava’s determination burned brighter than ever. This was only the beginning, and Julian Ashcroft had no idea what he was up against. She wasn’t just here to compete—she was here to win.

"You’re scarily calm right now," Ryan said as they stepped into the elevator.

Ava turned to him, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "Oh, I’m calm. I’m just planning my next move."

Ryan chuckled, shaking his head. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."

"You’re already on my bad side," Ava quipped, though her smile took the sting out of her words.

As the elevator doors closed, Ava felt a spark of excitement amidst the chaos. The first challenge was behind her, but the war was far from over. And if Julian thought he could outmatch her, he was in for a surprise.