Matchmaker Mayhem
Chapter 59: Ethan’s Sabotage Plan

Chapter 59: Ethan’s Sabotage Plan

The day started innocently enough. Too innocently, as Ava would later reflect. The matchmaking convention was in full swing, and for the first time since arriving in New York, things seemed... quiet. No unexpected fire alarms, no surprise astrological predictions from Astrid, and, most shockingly, no Mei-induced chaos. Even Ryan, usually a source of playful quips or accidental distractions, seemed content to sip his coffee in silence.

For a fleeting moment, Ava thought the day might actually go smoothly. She made it through the first client meeting without any glitches, her schedule was running like clockwork, and Astrid’s latest planetary chart hadn’t made an appearance yet.

She should have known better than to trust the calm.

By mid-morning, there was an almost eerie stillness to the energy of the convention. Even the usual hum of chatter felt oddly subdued, as if the attendees were holding their collective breath. It wasn’t until Ava stepped into the main hall, her clipboard in hand and her second coffee halfway gone, that she felt the shift.

Conversations hushed when she passed. Small groups of attendees clustered together, sneaking glances in her direction. The whispers were growing louder, accompanied by knowing smirks and muffled laughter. Ava frowned, feeling a prickle of unease run down her spine. Something was definitely off.

---

Ethan approached, his smile as smug as ever. Beside him stood Julian, looking infuriatingly amused as usual, as if he had just tuned in to his favorite sitcom.

"Enjoying the attention?" Ethan asked, folding his arms and glancing pointedly at the printout in Ava’s hand.

"You did this," Ava accused, holding up the paper like it was Exhibit A in a courtroom.

Ethan gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. "Me? Why would I ever do something so... mischievous?" His smirk said otherwise.

Julian chuckled, leaning slightly toward Ava as if sharing a private joke. "You have to admit, the pie-eating contest detail? Chef’s kiss. I mean, if that doesn’t scream romance, what does?"

Ava’s eyes narrowed. "Let me guess, you were his accomplice?"

"Me?" Julian held up his tablet, grinning. "No, but I wish I’d thought of it. It’s... artistically ridiculous."

Ryan stepped forward, his posture stiffening like a bodyguard stepping into action. Ava could feel the heat of his barely contained anger radiating off him. "So, what’s the goal here?" he demanded, his voice sharp. "Embarrass Ava? Undermine her in front of the entire convention? Because if that’s your plan, it’s pathetic."

Ethan raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "Who, me? I just thought Ava deserved a little publicity. She’s single, isn’t she? What’s the harm in giving her a head start on finding her match? Seems fitting, really, since she’s so great at doing it for everyone else."

"The harm," Ava said through gritted teeth, "is that I’m here to match clients, not to have my personal life turned into some sort of... bad romantic comedy!"

Ethan gave her an exaggerated shrug. "Well, judging by the number of people reading your profile, I’d say it’s less of a joke and more of a hit. I mean, competitive origami? That’s got star power."

Ryan stepped closer, his jaw so tight Ava was surprised she didn’t hear it crack. "Take it down. Now."

Ethan raised his hands in mock surrender, but his tone didn’t lose its smug edge. "Or what? You’re going to swipe left on me?"

Ryan didn’t blink. "Or I’ll take it down for you. And trust me, you won’t like how I do it."

Julian, who had been enjoying the exchange like it was a live theater performance, finally stepped between them, raising an eyebrow. "Let’s not cause a scene, gentlemen. There are plenty of clients around, and professionalism is key, isn’t it?"

"Oh, we’re way past professionalism," Ryan shot back, his voice low and threatening. Ava half expected him to grab Ethan by the tie and toss him into the nearest potted plant.

"Oh, no," Ethan said, his voice dripping with mock concern. "Did I strike a nerve? Or are you just a little too invested in defending Ava?" He leaned closer to Ryan, his smile sharpening. "Maybe you’re the one who wants to swipe right."

Ryan opened his mouth to respond, but Ava, fed up, planted a firm hand on his chest to stop him. "Don’t," she said sharply, her glare flicking between the two men.

Ethan snickered. "Yeah, Ryan. Don’t."

"Shut up, Ethan," Ava snapped, turning her fury toward him. "And get ready to apologize. Because by the time this convention ends, I’m going to have your public humiliation trending."

Ethan faltered for just a moment, his smirk dimming slightly. But before anyone could react, Julian muttered, "Ooh, now this is getting interesting."

---

By now, the whispers had grown into open chatter. A small crowd had gathered nearby, many attendees pulling out their phones to view Ava’s "profile" for themselves. Laughter rippled through the room as people shared the absurd details of the fake profile—everything from Ava’s supposed love of interpretive dance to her alleged dream of opening a llama sanctuary in Peru.

Ava’s stomach churned as she felt the weight of their stares. The whispers weren’t just whispers anymore—they were sharp, mocking edges that cut through her focus.

"Enough," Ava said loudly, her voice slicing through the growing noise. The room fell silent, every pair of eyes now fixed on her.

She stepped forward, holding up the printout. "Let’s clear this up right now. This profile is fake. I didn’t create it, and I’m not here to find a date. I’m here to help others find love, and that’s what I’ll keep doing—no matter how many fake bios get thrown my way."

The crowd murmured again, but this time, the laughter softened into something more uncertain. A few people shuffled awkwardly, glancing at each other. Others looked at Ava with a glimmer of respect.

"Wow," Ethan said, slow-clapping as he leaned against a nearby table. "Such a professional response. I’m almost impressed."

Ryan, however, wasn’t done. "You think this is funny?" he asked, his voice quiet but full of steel.

Ethan shrugged. "I think it’s harmless fun."

"Harmless?" Ryan repeated, stepping forward until he was inches away from Ethan. "You’re so desperate to win that you’re sabotaging other people? That’s low, even for you."

Ethan scoffed. "And you’re her knight in shining armor, huh? How adorable."

Before Ryan could respond, Ava grabbed his arm, pulling him back. "He’s not worth it," she muttered under her breath.

Ryan glared at Ethan one last time before stepping away.

---

The rest of the day was a whirlwind, but Ava refused to let Ethan’s antics rattle her. She threw herself into her work, her confidence shining brighter with every successful match she made. By the afternoon, she’d pulled off a miracle, pairing two notoriously picky clients—an ex-food critic and a retired chef—into what felt like a match made in culinary heaven.

The applause from her colleagues when the pair announced their plans for a second meeting drowned out the earlier embarrassment. Even Julian, who rarely showed emotion beyond mild disdain, gave her an approving nod from across the room.

Later, as Ava and Ryan walked back to their hotel, she finally allowed herself to exhale, her shoulders loosening for the first time all day. The city buzzed around them, but the cool evening air felt grounding, almost soothing.

"You were incredible today," Ryan said, his tone full of admiration.

"Thanks," Ava said, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I just... I couldn’t let him win, you know?"

"He didn’t win. You did," Ryan replied, his voice steady but soft.

Ava glanced at him, her chest tightening at the way he looked at her—like he meant every word, like he saw all of her, flaws and all, and still thought she was worth fighting for.

They walked in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Ryan broke it. "You’ve got frosting on your sleeve," he teased, motioning to the edge of her blazer.

Ava sighed, brushing at it futilely. "Of course I do. Honestly, after today, I’m surprised it’s not pastry crumbs in my hair too."

Ryan stopped walking, reaching out to gently take her hand. Ava blinked at him, startled, as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. With exaggerated care, he dabbed at the tiny streak of frosting on her sleeve, his fingers brushing her wrist.

"Can’t have the convention’s top matchmaker looking anything less than perfect," he said, his tone light, but there was something warmer, deeper, in his expression.

Ava rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the blush rising to her cheeks. "You’re such a dork," she muttered, but her voice had softened.

"I’m your dork," he countered with a grin, tucking the handkerchief back into his pocket.

The words hung between them, playful but charged, and before Ava could overthink it, she leaned into him slightly, bumping her shoulder against his. Ryan, ever quick to pick up on her mood, responded by casually sliding his arm around her, pulling her closer as they walked.

For a moment, Ava let herself sink into the warmth of his gesture. She wasn’t sure when things had shifted between them—when Ryan had become more than just her sparring partner, her co-conspirator in navigating the chaos. But she couldn’t deny the way her pulse quickened when his arm rested lightly across her shoulders, or how much safer the world felt when he was beside her.

When they reached the hotel entrance, Ryan stopped, his arm lingering a moment longer before he stepped back. "Get some rest," he said, his voice low but earnest. "You’ve got another big day tomorrow."

"You too," Ava replied, her gaze lingering on him as he held the door open for her.

For the first time all day, she felt steady, grounded. No fake profiles, no Ethan, no planetary chaos could touch her—not when Ryan was by her side