Matchmaker Mayhem
Chapter 72: Paris Awaits: The Next Big Match

Chapter 72: Paris Awaits: The Next Big Match

The crisp sound of a pen tapping against a glass desk filled the quiet room, each tap echoing with controlled frustration. Julian Ashcroft sat in his sleek, ultra-modern office in Manhattan, his jaw tight as he stared at the blank whiteboard in front of him. For a man who prided himself on always being ten steps ahead, defeat wasn’t just rare—it was unacceptable. And Ava Lee’s victory at the convention? That had been a public humiliation he couldn’t let go unanswered.

"Sir?" a voice interrupted, cautious but clear. Julian didn’t need to look up to recognize his assistant, Bethany, standing nervously by the door. She was holding a tablet, her usual confidence tempered by the mood in the room.

"Did you find it?" Julian asked, his voice sharp and devoid of its usual charm.

Bethany hesitated. "Define ’it,’ sir."

Julian’s eyes flicked up, narrowing. "The angle, Bethany. The weakness. Everyone has one."

Bethany swallowed hard and nodded. "We’re still compiling data on Ava Lee’s matchmaking methodology, but... there are some interesting observations." She set the tablet down in front of him, pulling up a series of photos from the convention: Ava laughing with clients, shaking hands with Madam Elise, and standing triumphantly with Ryan after her big win.

Julian’s gaze lingered on the photo of Ava and Ryan. His lips curled into a cold smile. "Her weakness," he said slowly, tapping the screen, "is him."

Bethany raised an eyebrow. "Ryan Kim? Her business partner?"

"Her distraction," Julian corrected, leaning back in his chair. "She claims to trust her intuition, but he’s the one who bolsters it. Without him, her confidence cracks. Remove the foundation, and the structure falls."

Bethany shifted uncomfortably. "That seems... personal, sir."

"It’s business," Julian snapped, his tone icy. "And business is personal when someone makes you look like a fool on a global stage." He pushed the tablet back toward her. "Keep digging. I want everything there is to know about Ryan Kim. His weaknesses, his history, his... motivations."

Bethany nodded, though her unease was palpable. "Understood."

---

Julian stood, striding over to the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the glittering New York skyline. The view didn’t soothe him as it usually did. Instead, it only reminded him of the people watching when his algorithm—the product of years of work and millions of dollars—had been publicly upended by Ava’s messy, human approach to matchmaking.

He clenched his fists, his reflection glaring back at him.

"I underestimated her," he muttered, almost to himself. "I won’t make that mistake again."

Bethany cleared her throat. "If I may, sir... what’s the plan?"

Julian turned, his smirk sharp and calculating. "The plan," he said, "is to rebuild—and expand. New York was only ever the beginning. Paris is where we’ll make our statement. The global matchmaking elite will be there, and so will Ava. But this time, she won’t see us coming."

Bethany hesitated. "Paris? Do you mean the L’Amour Élite event next month?"

"Exactly," Julian said, his voice smooth again. "Ava will be walking into a lion’s den. My lion’s den."

---

Behind him, the office door clicked open, and Ethan Chase strolled in, his usual cocky swagger on full display. He held a steaming cup of coffee, which he placed on Julian’s desk without asking.

"Talking about our favorite matchmaker, I see," Ethan said, flashing a toothy grin. "Still smarting from that little defeat?"

Julian’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t rise to the bait. "I don’t smart, Chase. I strategize."

Ethan raised an eyebrow, taking a seat across from him and kicking his feet up onto the desk. "Sure you do. And what’s the strategy now? Another algorithm? Maybe a robot matchmaker to really spice things up?"

Julian didn’t dignify that with a response. Instead, he turned back to Bethany. "Make the necessary arrangements for Paris. I want our presence to be... unavoidable."

"Yes, sir," Bethany said quickly, excusing herself from the room.

Once she was gone, Ethan leaned forward, his grin turning conspiratorial. "You know, you could just hire me to take her down. I’ve got plenty of practice throwing Ava off her game."

Julian folded his arms, considering him. "And what, exactly, would you suggest?"

Ethan smirked. "Let me do what I do best—cause chaos. Distract her, throw her off balance. You focus on making your big comeback while I keep her busy."

Julian studied him for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Fine. But if you fail—"

"I won’t," Ethan interrupted, standing. "Relax, Ashcroft. By the time we’re done, Ava Lee won’t know what hit her."

As Ethan sauntered out, Julian turned back to the window, a new sense of determination settling over him.

---

In the corner of the room, his whiteboard remained blank, save for one word he’d scrawled in bold, black marker earlier that day: Paris.

Underneath it, he added two more words: No mercy.

Julian’s smile returned as he stared at the words. This wasn’t just about rebuilding his reputation. It was about proving that in the world of matchmaking, precision and data would always triumph over intuition and chaos.

And this time, nothing would stand in his way.

---

The sun filtered through the windows of the tea shop as Ava sat cross-legged on the floor, sorting through client profiles and travel itineraries Mei had handed her that morning. The envelope marked For Paris Only sat on the counter behind her, unopened but radiating a quiet sort of menace. It had been a whirlwind few days since Mei dropped her bombshell announcement, and while Ava had committed to the idea of Paris, she hadn’t quite wrapped her head around what it would mean.

"Do you think they’ll have croissants that live up to the hype?" Ryan’s voice broke through her concentration as he strolled in, carrying a paper bag that smelled unmistakably of fresh pastries.

Ava glanced up, raising an eyebrow. "You brought me pastries while talking about pastries?"

"Consider it research," Ryan said, grinning as he set the bag down on the counter. "We need to prep for Paris, right?"

Ava rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched in amusement. "I’m pretty sure Mei’s version of ’prep’ involves much more chaos and fewer carbs."

Ryan pulled out a croissant, tearing off a piece and offering it to her. "Come on, Matchmaker. You’re taking this too seriously."

Ava sighed, accepting the pastry and popping it into her mouth. "It’s not about the croissants, Ryan. It’s everything else. Mei’s turned this whole trip into a spectacle before we’ve even left. Paris isn’t just going to be some picturesque adventure—it’s a competition. With real stakes."

Ryan leaned against the counter, studying her. "You’re worried about Julian, aren’t you?"

Ava hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the pastry bag. "Not just Julian. Everyone. L’Amour Élite isn’t some casual matchmaking agency. They’re the best in the world. They’re polished, professional, and let’s be real—probably backed by some insanely expensive algorithms."

"And you think you don’t measure up?" Ryan asked, his tone softening.

"It’s not that," Ava said quickly, though she wasn’t entirely sure she believed it. "It’s just... I don’t know what Mei’s gotten us into. She makes everything sound like an opportunity, but it always comes with a price."

Ryan reached over, brushing a crumb off her sleeve. His touch was light, but it anchored her in the moment. "Hey. You’ve faced worse. You went up against Julian in New York, and you came out on top. Paris isn’t going to be any different."

"Paris is Julian’s playground," Ava pointed out. "He’s probably already plotting his revenge."

Ryan grinned, his hand still resting on her sleeve. "Then we’ll outplay him. Together."

Ava sighed, shaking her head. "You make it sound so simple."

"That’s because it is," Ryan said, his voice softening. "You’re good at this, Ava. You just proved that. You’re stubborn, you overthink everything, and you refuse to quit, even when you should. It’s annoying, honestly."

Ava rolled her eyes. "Thanks for the pep talk."

"I’m not finished," Ryan said, leaning in slightly. "All of that makes you the best matchmaker I’ve ever seen. And I’d bet anything that Paris is going to bring out the best in you. Even if you are a control freak."

Ava felt her cheeks flush, but she refused to let him see her flustered. Instead, she narrowed her eyes. "Are you done now?"

Ryan grinned. "Almost." He straightened and crossed the room, grabbing her coat from the hook by the door. "Come on."

"Come on where?" Ava asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

"For a walk," Ryan said, holding up her coat. "You’ve been cooped up here all day. A little air will do you good."

Ava hesitated for a moment, then stood and took the coat. "Fine. But only because I need air. Not because you’re charming."

"Whatever you say, Matchmaker," Ryan said, holding the door open for her.

---

The air outside was crisp, carrying the faint scent of rain from earlier in the evening. The streets were quiet, bathed in the warm glow of streetlights and the occasional hum of passing cars. Ryan shoved his hands into his pockets as they walked side by side, their footsteps echoing softly against the pavement.

"You sure know how to pick a route," Ava said, glancing around at the quaint, tree-lined street. "It’s peaceful."

"Figured you could use it," Ryan replied, his voice quieter than usual. "You’ve been running on fumes since we got back from New York."

Ava frowned, shoving her hands into her coat pockets. "I’m fine."

"Yeah, sure," Ryan said, glancing at her with a knowing look. "That’s why you’ve been staring at that Paris envelope like it’s going to bite you."

"It might," Ava muttered, her lips twitching into a small smile.

Ryan chuckled, nudging her shoulder lightly. "Relax, Matchmaker. You’ve got this."

They continued down the street, the tension between them softening with each step. Ava found herself glancing at Ryan every so often, the easy confidence in his stride reassuring in a way she hadn’t expected. She hated how he always seemed to know exactly how to make her feel better, even when she didn’t want him to.

"So," Ryan said after a while, breaking the comfortable silence. "What’s really bothering you about Paris?"

Ava sighed, her breath visible in the cool night air. "It’s not just Paris. It’s everything. Mei has this way of throwing me into things I’m not ready for, and somehow, I always end up barely scraping by."

"You didn’t ’barely scrape by’ in New York," Ryan pointed out. "You won. Big time."

Ava stopped walking, turning to face him. "But what if this time I don’t? What if Paris is too much?"

Ryan stepped closer, his gaze steady. "Then we deal with it. Together. Like we always do."

Ava looked at him, the sincerity in his voice catching her off guard. "You make it sound so easy."

"Because it is," Ryan said, reaching out and tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. His hand lingered for a moment, warm against her cheek. "You’re good at what you do, Ava. And you’re not alone in this. You’ve got me."

Her chest tightened, and for once, she didn’t try to fight the warmth spreading through her. "You really believe that?"

"Every word," Ryan said, his voice soft.

For a moment, they just stood there, the quiet of the night wrapping around them. Ava felt her resolve start to steady, the doubts in her mind quieting. She didn’t need to have all the answers right now. She just needed to take the first step—and trust that Ryan would be there to take the next one with her.

"Okay," she said finally, her voice quiet but firm. "Paris it is."

Ryan grinned, his hand dropping from her face. "Knew you’d come around."

Ava rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at her lips. "Don’t get cocky."

"Too late," Ryan said, stepping back and offering her his hand. "Come on. Let’s keep walking."

Ava hesitated for only a moment before slipping her hand into his. Together, they continued down the street, the world feeling a little less daunting with every step.

For the first time since Mei’s announcement, Ava felt something she hadn’t in a long time: ready.

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