Matchmaker Mayhem
Chapter 76: The Matchmaker’s Soirée

Chapter 76: The Matchmaker’s Soirée

The grand ballroom of Château de Lumière glowed with the soft light of crystal chandeliers, their brilliance reflecting off polished marble floors and gilded mirrors. The room was filled with elegance—tables draped in pristine white linens, glasses of champagne catching the light, and attendees dressed to the nines. The air buzzed with the low hum of laughter, conversation, and the occasional clink of a glass.

Ava stepped into the room, her black evening gown brushing the floor as her heels clicked against the tiles. She glanced around, her eyes darting over the crowd of impeccably dressed matchmakers, clients, and a smattering of French socialites. For all its beauty, the room felt daunting. The competition had officially begun, and every conversation, every interaction, felt like it carried the weight of judgment.

Ryan appeared at her side, tugging lightly at the collar of his suit. "Well, this is... something," he said, surveying the scene.

"You clean up nicely," Ava replied, glancing at him. She tried to keep her tone neutral, but it was hard to ignore how the sharp cut of his tuxedo emphasized his broad shoulders and easy confidence.

Ryan smirked, catching the edge in her tone. "You’re not so bad yourself, Matchmaker. That dress could stop traffic."

Ava flushed slightly but rolled her eyes. "Focus, Ryan. We’re not here to turn heads."

"Speak for yourself," Ryan teased, adjusting his cufflinks. "I’m just here to make sure you don’t overthink your way out of having fun."

"Fun," Ava repeated dryly, scanning the room. "Right. Because that’s what this is."

---

Mei’s Champagne Surprise

Ava and Ryan hadn’t taken more than a few steps into the ballroom before Mei swept over to them, her floral shawl trailing behind her like a cape. She had somehow already acquired a flute of champagne in each hand, and her grin was wide with mischief.

"There you are!" Mei exclaimed, thrusting one of the glasses toward Ava. "Drink up, my dear. Tonight is about making an impression."

Ava accepted the glass hesitantly, sniffing it before taking a sip. "You seem... unusually cheerful," she said, narrowing her eyes at her grandmother. "What are you up to?"

"Me? Up to something?" Mei asked, feigning innocence. "I’m merely enjoying the finer things in life. Oh, speaking of which—Harold!"

Ava followed Mei’s gaze and spotted Harold at a nearby table, enthusiastically debating with a mustachioed Frenchman over the merits of Roquefort versus Camembert. The scene was attracting a small crowd, and Harold looked positively delighted.

"I give it ten minutes before he tries to start a cheese-tasting competition," Ryan muttered, his tone amused.

"Eight minutes," Ava corrected, taking another sip of her champagne.

Mei leaned in conspiratorially. "Don’t worry about Harold. He’s in his element. You, however, need to focus on mingling. Make connections, charm the clients, and—"

"—and avoid Ethan," Ava finished, her eyes flicking to where Ethan Chase was holding court near the bar, a smug grin plastered across his face.

"Exactly," Mei said, patting Ava’s arm. "Though if you happen to accidentally spill champagne on him, I won’t complain."

---

Chaos on the Dance Floor

As the evening progressed, Ava found herself juggling conversations with clients, competitors, and the occasional curious onlooker. Ryan stayed close, his presence grounding her as she navigated the whirlwind of introductions and small talk.

"Matchmaker of the year, huh?" one client teased, raising a glass to Ava. "What’s your secret?"

"Listening," Ava said simply, her smile polite but warm. "Most people just want to feel seen."

Ryan gave her a subtle nod of approval from across the table, his expression saying, You’ve got this.

Later, as the orchestra began to play a waltz, Ava found herself cornered by a particularly nervous client named Isabelle. The young woman fidgeted with her clutch, her cheeks flushed as she explained her predicament.

"There’s this man," Isabelle began, glancing toward the dance floor. "He’s charming and kind, but I don’t know how to approach him. What if he doesn’t feel the same?"

Ava opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Ryan appeared at her side.

"Mind if I steal you for a dance?" he asked, his tone light but firm as he extended his hand.

Isabelle looked startled, but Ava understood the subtle rescue Ryan was offering. She took his hand, allowing him to lead her onto the dance floor.

"You’re saving me more than her," Ava murmured as they began to waltz.

Ryan smirked. "I’m versatile like that."

The music swelled around them as they moved across the floor, their steps in perfect sync despite Ava’s initial reluctance. For a moment, it felt like the rest of the room faded away, leaving only the two of them in the soft glow of the chandeliers.

"You’re good at this," Ava admitted, her voice quieter now.

Ryan’s smile softened. "You sound surprised."

"I guess I am," Ava said, meeting his gaze. "You’re full of surprises."

The atmosphere between them shifted, the playful banter giving way to something deeper. Ava felt her heart skip a beat as Ryan’s hand on her waist tightened slightly, pulling her closer.

"Careful," he said softly. "You might start liking me."

Before Ava could respond, a familiar voice cut through the moment like a knife.

---

Julian’s Challenge

"Enjoying yourselves?" Julian’s smooth tone interrupted, drawing their attention. He stood at the edge of the dance floor, his sharp suit impeccable as ever and his expression faintly mocking.

Ava stiffened, pulling away from Ryan slightly. "Julian."

Julian’s smile didn’t reach his eyes as he approached, his gaze flicking briefly to Ryan before settling on Ava. "I must say, you seem remarkably relaxed for someone competing against the best in the world."

"Relaxed doesn’t mean unprepared," Ava said coolly, her chin lifting.

"Of course," Julian replied, his tone dripping with condescension. "But don’t get too comfortable. This isn’t New York, Ava. Paris is a whole different game."

Ryan stepped forward, his posture casual but his voice firm. "Funny, I thought it was the same game you lost last time."

Julian’s jaw tightened, but he quickly masked it with a chuckle. "Charming, as always. I hope you’re ready for tomorrow’s challenge, Ava. Margaux has quite the test lined up."

"We’ll be ready," Ava said, her voice steady.

Julian gave a slight bow, his smirk returning. "Bonne chance, then. You’ll need it."

As he walked away, Ava let out a slow breath, her fists clenching at her sides. Ryan placed a hand on her shoulder, his touch gentle but reassuring.

"Don’t let him get to you," he said quietly.

"He’s just trying to throw me off," Ava replied, her voice laced with frustration.

"And failing," Ryan added with a small smile. "You’ve got this, Matchmaker. Don’t let him make you forget that."

Ava glanced up at him, her expression softening. "Thanks."

The music swelled again, and Ryan offered his hand once more. "Another dance? Or do you want to accidentally spill champagne on Julian?"

Ava laughed, the tension easing from her shoulders. "Tempting, but I think one more dance will do."

As Ava and Ryan returned to the dance floor, the room seemed to regain its vibrancy. The tension Julian had stirred still lingered at the edges of her thoughts, but Ryan’s steady presence beside her helped pull her back to the moment. The orchestra transitioned into a slower melody, a romantic tune that softened the energy of the gala. Ava couldn’t help but feel like the entire evening had been designed to push her buttons—and yet, she was still standing.

Ryan slid his hand around her waist again, his other hand lightly clasping hers. "Forget about Julian," he said, his tone low. "He’s just noise."

Ava met his gaze, her lips curving into a faint smile. "Easier said than done."

"Then focus on me," Ryan said, his voice teasing but warm. "I’m much better company."

She laughed softly, shaking her head. "You’ve got a high opinion of yourself."

"Someone has to," he quipped, spinning her gently in time with the music.

Ava let herself relax into the rhythm of the dance, her movements flowing with his. The ballroom around them blurred into a haze of shimmering lights and soft conversations, leaving only the two of them in their own little world. She caught the faintest hint of Ryan’s cologne—a mix of cedarwood and something clean and fresh—and it made her pulse quicken in a way she wasn’t ready to admit.

"Ryan," she started, her voice quieter now, "why are you always so... calm?"

He tilted his head, studying her. "You think I’m calm?"

"You seem like it," Ava said. "Even when everything is chaos, you’re just... steady."

Ryan’s lips twitched into a smile, and he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "That’s because I know you’ve got enough chaos for the both of us."

Ava rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t suppress the warmth spreading through her chest. "You’re impossible."

"And yet, here you are," Ryan said, his grin widening.

As the song neared its end, Ava felt a pang of disappointment. She wasn’t ready for the moment to end—not yet. But just as the final notes faded, the ballroom erupted into polite applause, and Mei appeared out of nowhere, her floral scarf fluttering dramatically.

"Ah, young love!" Mei declared, clapping her hands together. "I hate to interrupt, but there’s a cheese-related crisis at Harold’s table. Something about Brie versus Gruyère. You’d better come quick."

Ava groaned, pressing a hand to her forehead. "Of course there is."

Ryan laughed, his hand brushing against hers as they stepped off the dance floor. "Ready to dive back into the chaos?"

"Do I have a choice?" Ava muttered, though her lips twitched into a smile.

As they followed Mei toward the commotion, Ava stole one last glance at Ryan, her thoughts swirling with emotions she wasn’t quite ready to name. The competition, Julian, the soirée—it all felt overwhelming. But with Ryan by her side, the chaos felt just a little more manageable, and the night still held its own quiet magic.