Matchmaker Mayhem
Chapter 63: The Chocolate Fountain Fiasco

Chapter 63: The Chocolate Fountain Fiasco

The third day of the convention was proving to be as chaotic as a squirrel convention in a coffee bean warehouse. The air buzzed with a mix of caffeine-fueled energy and barely contained tension, while event planners scurried around like caffeinated honeybees trying to coordinate the day’s activities. Ava stood near the refreshment table, stealing a moment of peace with a tiny plate of hors d’oeuvres that looked like they’d been designed by an architect with a Napoleon complex. She was running on adrenaline, sheer stubbornness, and enough espresso to fuel a small Italian village, all while juggling the chaos of the challenges with the ever-present knowledge that Julian was lurking somewhere, probably practicing his evil genius laugh behind a potted plant.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t Julian who found her first—it was Ethan, who had the impeccable timing of a telemarketer calling during dinner.

"Enjoying yourself, Lee?" Ethan’s voice, slick with false charm that could oil a squeaky door, cut through her brief respite like a butter knife through a frozen stick of butter—ineffectively but persistently annoying.

Ava turned, forcing herself to smile despite the instinctive desire to groan loud enough to wake the dead. "What do you want, Ethan? Come to practice your supervillain monologue?"

"Oh, nothing much," Ethan said, leaning casually against the table, which immediately wobbled under his weight like a drunk flamingo. "Just thought I’d check in. You know, see how New York’s treating you. I heard you had a bit of trouble in the last challenge. Must be tough, being so... traditional."

He pronounced "traditional" the way most people might say "converts Excel files to PDF for fun."

Ava’s eyes narrowed to the width of a paper cut. "If you’re referring to the chaos you caused with the seating chart—which, by the way, looked like it was arranged by a blindfolded toddler playing musical chairs—I’d say it’s going fine. Despite your best efforts to turn it into a reality TV show disaster."

Ethan smirked, his expression reminiscent of a cat who’d just discovered an unattended fishbowl. "Come on, don’t be like that. It’s all in good fun. Besides, I think you’re taking this whole matchmaking thing a little too seriously. It’s not rocket science—though Julian’s algorithms might disagree."

"Seriously?" Ava said, crossing her arms with the precision of a crossing guard who’d had enough of jaywalking teenagers. "You mean like how you’re taking Julian’s algorithms so seriously you’re practically his assistant now? What’s next, following him around with a portable fan for dramatic effect?"

Ethan’s smirk faltered like a soufflé in an earthquake, and his eyes flickered with irritation. "At least Julian understands how to innovate. Your whole ’follow your instincts’ shtick is quaint, but let’s be real—it’s about as current as a flip phone at an Apple convention."

Ava opened her mouth to fire back with what would have undoubtedly been a devastating critique of his personality flaws (she had a list, alphabetized and color-coded), but before she could, a familiar voice cut in like a hot knife through pretension.

"Hey, Ethan," Ryan said, appearing at her side like a knight in rumpled armor, if that knight had spent the morning fighting with the coffee machine and lost. "I think you dropped your ego back there. It’s blocking the fire exit."

Ethan’s head snapped toward Ryan with the speed of someone who’d just heard free cake being announced. "Kim. Always charming, aren’t you? Like a bull in a china shop—if the bull had taken a correspondence course in sarcasm."

"Only to people who deserve it," Ryan shot back, his tone as calm as a yoga instructor in the middle of a hurricane. "What’s the matter? Julian not giving you enough attention, so you decided to bother Ava instead? Have you tried writing ’Notice me, senpai’ in binary code?"

Ava bit her lip to stifle a laugh that threatened to escape like air from a punctured balloon. She watched as Ethan’s face darkened to the shade of a tomato that had just discovered its credit card bill.

"I’m just here to offer some friendly advice," Ethan said, his voice dripping with condescension thick enough to spread on toast. "But I guess some people can’t handle constructive criticism. Though in your case, Kim, even destructive criticism would be an improvement."

"Funny," Ryan said, stepping closer with all the subtlety of a peacock at a penguin convention. "I was just about to say the same thing about you. Did you get that comeback from a ’Witty Responses for Dummies’ handbook?"

The tension crackled between them like a live wire in a puddle of uncertainty. Ava could practically see the testosterone levels rising, threatening to trigger the sprinkler system.

"Guys," she said, stepping between them with all the enthusiasm of someone volunteering to test a shark’s dental work. "Let’s not—"

Too late. The universe, with its impeccable sense of comedic timing, had other plans.

Ethan, in an attempt to assert dominance that would have made a peacock blush, stepped forward and gestured wildly with his hand like a conductor leading an orchestra of chaos. Unfortunately, his hand clipped the edge of the chocolate fountain behind him—a towering monument to liquid sugar that stood as proudly as the Leaning Tower of Pisa, and was about to have just as much success staying vertical.

The tall, glistening tower of cascading chocolate wobbled ominously, like a jenga tower after someone pulled out the load-bearing piece.

"Uh, Ethan—" Ava started, her eyes widening to the size of dinner plates.

"What?" Ethan said, displaying all the spatial awareness of a blindfolded rhinoceros in a crystal shop.

Before anyone could stop it, the fountain began its slow-motion descent toward disaster. Ryan lunged to catch it, but in his haste, he tripped over a chair leg. His hand smacked against the base of the fountain, sending it spinning in the opposite direction—straight toward Ethan.

"Watch out!" Ava yelled, ducking just in time as molten chocolate flew through the air.

The fountain hit Ethan square in the chest, drenching his designer suit in a tidal wave of liquid chocolate. He let out a startled yelp, flailing his arms like a panicked octopus.

Ryan, still sprawled on the floor, tried to stifle a laugh but failed miserably. "Nice catch, Ethan."

"Are you kidding me?!" Ethan spluttered, his face a mix of rage and sticky, melted chocolate.

The scene descended into utter chaos. Nearby guests gasped and scrambled to avoid the spreading puddle of chocolate, their laughter bubbling up as Ethan stomped around, trying to shake off the gooey mess.

Ava grabbed a handful of napkins and handed them to Ethan, who snatched them with a glare. "This is your fault," he growled, pointing a chocolate-coated finger at Ryan.

"My fault?" Ryan said, pushing himself to his feet and brushing off his pants. "You’re the one who knocked it over!"

"I wouldn’t have knocked it over if you hadn’t barged in like some kind of... of... chocolate vigilante!" Ethan snapped, flinging a napkin to the ground for emphasis.

Ryan smirked, crossing his arms. "Chocolate vigilante? I kind of like the sound of that."

"Guys," Ava said, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Can we please focus on cleaning this up before security kicks us out?"

---

As Ethan continued to grumble and mutter about dry cleaning costs, Ava and Ryan worked together to salvage what was left of the dessert table. Ryan couldn’t resist sneaking in a few comments under his breath, each one more ridiculous than the last.

"You know," Ryan said, holding up a dripping chocolate-covered strawberry, "I think this could be your new look, Ethan. Very avant-garde."

"Shut up, Kim," Ethan snapped, swiping the strawberry out of Ryan’s hand and throwing it onto a nearby plate.

Ava, barely containing her laughter, whispered to Ryan, "You’re not helping."

"Oh, I’m helping," Ryan whispered back, grinning. "Helping myself to some quality entertainment."

Eventually, the staff swooped in to take over the cleanup, shooing the trio away from the now-decimated refreshment table. Ethan stormed off in a huff, muttering something about "unprofessionalism" and "revenge," leaving Ava and Ryan standing in the aftermath.

---

"Well," Ava said, crossing her arms and surveying the scene. "That was... something."

"Definitely the highlight of my week," Ryan said, his grin unrepentant.

Ava shook her head, but a smile tugged at her lips. "You’re impossible."

"And yet, you’re still here," Ryan said, leaning slightly closer. "Admit it—you enjoyed watching him get taken down a peg."

Ava hesitated for half a second before nodding. "Okay, fine. It was satisfying."

Ryan chuckled, nudging her shoulder. "See? You’re starting to appreciate my methods."

"Let’s not go that far," Ava said, rolling her eyes. "Now, can we focus on surviving the rest of this convention without causing another disaster?"

"No promises," Ryan said, his tone teasing. "But hey, if it happens, at least we know who to blame."

"Don’t even start," Ava warned, but her laughter betrayed her.

As they walked away from the scene of the crime, Ava couldn’t help but think that, despite the chaos, having Ryan by her side made everything a little more bearable—even if it came with the occasional chocolate fountain fiasco.