Matchmaker Mayhem
Chapter 68: Ethan’s Last Gasp

Chapter 68: Ethan’s Last Gasp

The morning after Ava’s victory, the convention hall was abuzz with chatter. Whispers of Julian’s algorithm mishap and Ava’s heartfelt matchmaking success had dominated the conversation overnight. But amid the praise and celebration, there was one person who refused to go down without a fight.

Ethan Chase.

Ava had barely stepped into the hotel’s café, her eyes still groggy from a lack of sleep, when she spotted him. Ethan was perched at a table in the corner, gesturing animatedly to a small group of reporters. His impeccably tailored suit was immaculate, but the desperation in his voice was less polished.

"...and really, the algorithm crash was an isolated incident," Ethan was saying, his voice just loud enough to carry across the room. "It doesn’t reflect Julian’s overall success. You have to remember, data-driven matchmaking is the future. Ava Lee’s approach? It’s charming, sure, but it’s outdated. Emotional fluff only gets you so far."

Ava groaned, muttering under her breath, "Of course he’s spinning this."

Before she could slip out unnoticed, Ethan spotted her. His eyes lit up with that signature smirk—the one that always made Ava want to throw something.

"Well, well, speak of the devil," Ethan called out, waving her over. "The queen of intuition herself."

Ava froze, clutching her coffee like a shield. "Not today," she whispered to herself, already planning her escape.

But Ryan, who had just returned with a plate of bagels, blocked her path. "Oh no, you’re not dodging this one," he said, grinning. "Let’s hear what Mr. Smooth Talk has to say."

"Traitor," Ava hissed, but Ryan just shrugged and nudged her forward.

Ava reluctantly let Ryan guide her toward Ethan’s table, her footsteps heavy with irritation. She glanced at Ryan, whose expression was far too amused for her liking. "You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?" she muttered under her breath.

"Maybe a little," he admitted, taking a bite of his bagel as if he were settling in for a show.

Ethan’s smirk widened as they approached, his gaze flickering briefly to Ryan before locking on Ava. "Ah, Ava. Just the person I was talking about," he said smoothly, standing to pull out a chair for her. "Join us, won’t you? We were just discussing your... unique approach to matchmaking."

Ava raised an eyebrow but didn’t sit. "If by ’unique,’ you mean ’successful,’ then yes, that’s me."

Ethan’s smile tightened, but he recovered quickly. "Successful, sure—for now. But let’s not pretend your methods are scalable. Algorithms, data analytics—that’s the future. Your touchy-feely approach is charming, but it’s a relic of the past."

Ryan snorted, setting his plate down. "Funny, coming from the guy whose ’future’ crashed and burned in front of a live audience."

The reporters stifled awkward laughs, their pens poised to catch every word. Ethan’s jaw twitched, but he maintained his composure. "Technical glitches happen to the best of us. But let’s not focus on me—let’s talk about Ava’s so-called intuition. I’m curious, Ava: do you really believe you can keep up with an industry that’s evolving every second?"

Ava sighed, setting her coffee down and meeting Ethan’s gaze head-on. "You know what your problem is, Ethan? You’re so obsessed with data that you’ve forgotten what matchmaking is really about—people. It’s not about numbers on a screen; it’s about connection, empathy, and understanding what makes someone feel seen."

The reporters leaned in, captivated. Ethan’s confident façade faltered, but before he could respond, Ava continued.

"You’re so focused on the ’future’ that you’ve lost sight of the present," she said, her voice steady and calm. "Real connections aren’t made by algorithms. They’re made by listening, by caring, by taking the time to see people for who they are—not just what the data says about them."

Ryan leaned back in his chair, grinning. "Mic drop."

Ethan’s face darkened, but he quickly masked it with a tight smile. "We’ll see how long that approach lasts, Ava. The industry has a way of weeding out... sentimentality."

Ava shrugged, picking up her coffee again. "If by ’sentimentality,’ you mean ’success,’ then I’ll take my chances."

The reporters scribbled furiously, and Ava could already imagine the headlines.

Ethan’s smirk faltered for just a moment before he recovered. "I’m a visionary, Ava. I see opportunities where others see setbacks. And right now, I see a chance to redefine this industry."

"Translation: you’re trying to save your reputation," Ryan said, crossing his arms.

Ethan ignored him, leaning closer to Ava. "Look, I’ll admit you’ve had your moment. But moments fade. If you really want to make an impact, you’ll need allies—people who understand how to turn small victories into lasting success."

Ava narrowed her eyes. "Let me guess. You’re offering to be that ’ally.’"

Ethan spread his hands, feigning innocence. "Why not? Together, we could—"

"Absolutely not," Ava cut in, standing abruptly. "I don’t need your help, Ethan. And I’m not interested in whatever scheme you’re cooking up."

Ethan opened his mouth to respond, but a new voice interrupted.

"Now, now," Mei said, sweeping into the café like she owned the place. "What’s this about schemes?"

Ava sighed, half-relieved and half-dreading whatever her grandmother was about to do. "Ethan’s just trying to spin Julian’s failure into his own opportunity."

Mei’s eyes sparkled with mischief. "Ah, of course he is. Opportunists never rest, do they?"

Ethan straightened, his smile tightening. "Mei. Always a pleasure."

"Oh, the pleasure’s all mine," Mei said, her tone saccharine. "You know, I was just thinking about you last night."

Ethan blinked, clearly caught off guard. "You were?"

Mei nodded, pulling a small envelope from her purse. "Yes. In fact, I have something for you."

Ava’s stomach dropped. "Grandma, what are you—"

"Shh," Mei said, handing the envelope to Ethan. "Go on, dear. Open it."

Ethan hesitated, eyeing the envelope suspiciously. The reporters leaned in, clearly intrigued. With a wary glance at Mei, Ethan finally tore it open.

Inside was a single piece of paper. As Ethan read it, his expression shifted from confusion to horror.

"What is this?" he demanded, his voice rising.

Mei’s grin was pure glee. "Oh, just a little... reminder. You see, Ethan, you’ve left quite the paper trail over the years. And while I’m not one to meddle—"

Ava snorted. "That’s a lie."

"—I couldn’t help but notice some... questionable business practices in your past," Mei continued, ignoring Ava. "This document outlines a few key details that might interest the convention organizers. Or the press. Or, say, a few lawyers I happen to know."

Ethan’s face turned an impressive shade of red. "You wouldn’t."

Mei tilted her head, her smile never wavering. "Wouldn’t I?"

Ava stared at her grandmother, equal parts impressed and horrified. "What exactly is in that envelope?"

"Nothing illegal," Mei said breezily. "Just enough to ensure our dear Ethan thinks twice before causing any more trouble."

Ethan stood abruptly, stuffing the paper back into the envelope. "This isn’t over."

"Oh, I think it is," Mei said, her tone sweet but firm. "Run along now, dear."

Ethan stormed out, the reporters scrambling to follow him. As the café door swung shut behind them, Mei turned to Ava and Ryan, her expression smug.

---

"What just happened?" Ava asked, still processing everything as she watched Mei sip her coffee like she hadn’t just orchestrated a complete takedown.

"Simple," Mei said, setting the cup down with an air of triumph. "I neutralized a threat."

"Neutralized?" Ryan repeated, his eyebrows raised so high they nearly disappeared into his hairline. "You just blackmailed the guy in broad daylight."

"Blackmail is such an ugly word," Mei said, waving a hand dismissively. "I prefer ’strategic intervention.’ It has a much nicer ring to it, don’t you think?"

Ava shook her head, collapsing into a chair with a groan. "Grandma, you’re absolutely unbelievable."

"And yet," Mei said with a knowing smile, "you’ll thank me later. I always deliver results."

Ryan chuckled, leaning back in his chair with an amused smirk. "She’s not wrong. That was... something. Bold, even by her standards."

Ava let out a long sigh, her head falling into her hands. "I don’t know whether to feel grateful or utterly terrified."

Ryan reached over, patting her shoulder lightly. "Both," he said, his grin widening. "Definitely both."

Mei leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs like a queen surveying her court. "Oh, come now, darling. You’re far too dramatic. All I did was remove an obstacle. Now, you’re free to focus on the things that truly matter."

"Like what?" Ava muttered, peeking at her through her fingers.

"Like celebrating!" Mei declared, clapping her hands together. "You won, after all. You should be basking in your victory, not dealing with the likes of Ethan. Speaking of which, I hear the hotel bar has an excellent happy hour."

"I’m not sure I have the energy for that," Ava said, slumping further into her chair.

Mei stood gracefully, ignoring Ava’s protests. "Nonsense. You’re young, accomplished, and fabulous. You have plenty of energy. Harold and I will meet you there in twenty minutes." She shot them both a mischievous smile before striding off, her heels clicking against the floor like punctuation marks.

Ryan watched her go, shaking his head. "She’s a force of nature, isn’t she?"

"You have no idea," Ava said, though her tone was tinged with reluctant affection. "Remind me never to underestimate her."

"Trust me," Ryan said, standing and offering her his hand. "I learned that lesson a long time ago."

Ava hesitated for a moment, then took his hand, letting him pull her to her feet. "You know, for all the chaos she causes, she really does manage to pull through when it counts."

Ryan grinned, keeping her hand in his as they started toward the exit. "She does. And she’s right—you should celebrate. You earned it."

Ava glanced up at him, a smile finally breaking through her exhaustion. "Does that mean you’re coming to happy hour?"

"I wouldn’t miss it," Ryan said, his eyes warm. "Someone’s got to keep Mei from ordering the entire menu."

Ava laughed, shaking her head. "Good luck with that."

As they stepped out of the café into the evening light, Ava felt an unexpected sense of relief. For all her grandmother’s meddling and flair for the dramatic, Mei always had a way of clearing the path when things got tough. And with Ethan out of the picture, Ava finally felt like she could breathe again—and maybe even start thinking about what came next.

That thought lingered as Ryan gave her hand a gentle squeeze, anchoring her in the moment. For now, the future could wait.