Matchmaker Mayhem
Chapter 82: Ethan’s Move

Chapter 82: Ethan’s Move

The golden glow of evening settled over the Parisian skyline as the matchmakers of L’Amour Élite gathered at a posh rooftop lounge overlooking the Seine River. The air was filled with the sound of clinking glasses, soft jazz music, and the hum of sophisticated conversation.

Ava adjusted the strap of her elegant yet practical black dress and took a deep breath.

"Another day, another matchmaking event," she muttered, surveying the glamorous crowd.

Ryan, standing beside her, leaned in close. "At least we get free champagne this time."

Ava arched a brow. "You sound way too excited about that."

Ryan smirked. "You underestimate my appreciation for expensive alcohol."

Before Ava could respond, her eyes landed on Ethan Chase.

And immediately, she knew something was up.

Ethan was leaning against the bar, flashing his most charming, snake-oil-salesman smile at none other than Margaux Duval.

The head of L’Amour Élite, Margaux was an enigma—effortlessly elegant, terrifyingly intelligent, and completely unreadable.

Yet there she was, listening to Ethan, her expression unreadable but her perfectly manicured fingers drumming against her champagne glass.

Ava nudged Ryan. "Tell me I’m imagining this."

Ryan followed her gaze, his smirk instantly vanishing. "Nope. That’s real. And I hate it."

Ava crossed her arms. "Ethan is up to something. And I don’t like it."

Ryan nodded. "Want me to ’accidentally’ trip him?"

Ava sighed. "As tempting as that is, let’s see what he’s up to first."

---

Ethan tilted his head, his signature smirk firmly in place. "Margaux, I have to say, your taste in venues is impeccable."

Margaux took a sip of champagne, unimpressed. "Flattery is a cheap currency, Mr. Chase."

Ethan chuckled. "Oh, I don’t deal in cheap. I deal in results."

Margaux arched a delicate brow. "And what results are you hoping for?"

Ethan leaned in slightly. "Let’s just say I’m very interested in what tomorrow’s challenge entails. And I’d be extremely grateful if you were to give me a little... insider knowledge."

Margaux tilted her head, studying him. "Are you bribing me, Ethan?"

Ethan laughed. "Bribery is such a harsh word. I prefer strategic persuasion."

Margaux’s lips curved slightly. "You’re bold. I’ll give you that."

Before Ethan could push his luck any further, Ryan suddenly materialized beside them.

Ryan, grinning far too innocently, held a glass of red wine.

"Oh, hey, Ethan," Ryan said casually. "Didn’t see you there."

Ethan’s smirk flickered. "Kim."

Ryan pretended to look surprised. "Wait, are you... interrupting Margaux’s evening? That’s so rude of you."

Margaux hid a smile behind her glass.

Ava, watching from a distance, muffled a laugh.

Ethan sighed. "Ryan, I’m having a conversation."

Ryan nodded. "Right, right. Sorry. Just wanted to make sure Margaux wasn’t being pestered."

Margaux leaned forward. "Oh, I assure you, Mr. Kim, I can handle myself."

Ryan smirked. "Oh, I know. I just like making Ethan uncomfortable."

Ethan clenched his jaw. "Go away, Ryan."

Ryan feigned a thoughtful look. "Hmm. Nah."

And then—with spectacular, perfectly timed clumsiness—Ryan ’accidentally’ tipped his glass of red wine forward.

Straight onto Ethan’s crisp, white designer suit.

The entire table gasped.

Ethan froze, horror flashing across his face as the deep red liquid spread across his expensive jacket.

Ryan widened his eyes. "Oh, no."

Ava, barely holding it together, coughed to hide her laughter.

Margaux calmly placed her glass down. "My, my. How unfortunate."

Ethan gritted his teeth. "You did that on purpose."

Ryan held up his hands. "Did I? I’m just really clumsy."

Ethan glared. "I will end you, Kim."

Ryan grinned. "Good luck with that, buddy."

Margaux, clearly entertained, stood gracefully. "Gentlemen, as much as I enjoy a bit of drama, I must excuse myself."

She turned to Ethan, her expression amused but sharp. "Mr. Chase, I do hope your strategic persuasion includes a dry-cleaning budget."

Ethan muttered curses under his breath as Margaux walked away.

Ava finally approached, grinning. "Well, that went well."

Ryan shrugged. "He deserved it."

Ethan groaned, dabbing at his suit with a napkin. "You’re an idiot, Kim."

Ryan grinned. "And yet, I’m the one who isn’t covered in wine."

Ethan glared at him. "This isn’t over."

Ryan smirked. "Oh, buddy, I hope it’s not."

---

Ava and Ryan escaped the rooftop drama, heading toward a quieter balcony overlooking the Seine.

Ava, still giggling, shook her head. "You are ridiculous, you know that?"

Ryan grinned. "I live to entertain."

Ava leaned against the railing, watching the reflection of the city lights on the water.

Paris had a way of making moments feel more... significant.

More intimate.

Ryan stepped beside her, their shoulders brushing.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

The sounds of the party faded, replaced by the soft rustling of the river breeze and the distant melody of a street musician playing the violin.

Ava took a deep breath. "You really don’t like Ethan, huh?"

Ryan huffed a laugh. "It’s not just him. It’s guys like him. The ones who manipulate, who cheat their way through things."

Ava glanced at him, curiosity sparking. "You’ve never really talked about that before."

Ryan shrugged. "Let’s just say... I’ve seen people like him before. And I hate people who think they can just buy their way to success."

Ava nodded. "Well... thanks for accidentally spilling wine on him."

Ryan grinned. "Anytime."

Ava turned to face him, their eyes meeting in the dim light.

There was something in his expression—something softer, something warmer.

"Hey," Ryan said quietly, his voice different now.

Ava felt her breath hitch. "Yeah?"

Ryan reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Ava stilled, heart pounding.

"I really like it when you laugh," Ryan admitted.

Ava felt heat rush to her cheeks. "You say stuff like that just to fluster me."

Ryan chuckled. "Maybe."

Ava rolled her eyes. "You’re impossible."

Ryan stepped closer, lowering his voice. "And yet, here you are. Stuck with me."

Ava smiled. "Guess I am."

The laughter and chatter from the gala drifted behind them as Ava and Ryan lingered on the balcony, away from the crowd, away from the matchmaking drama, away from everyone. The golden lights of Paris stretched before them, flickering like tiny promises in the night. The faint sound of music from the Seine below mixed with the soft hum of the city, wrapping them in an atmosphere that felt... timeless.

Ava leaned against the wrought iron railing, exhaling slowly. The cool night air brushed against her skin, and for the first time that evening, she felt the tension in her shoulders ease.

Ryan, standing beside her, turned slightly, his gaze soft as he watched her.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice quieter now, missing its usual teasing lilt.

Ava glanced at him, the warmth of the champagne lingering in her veins. "Yeah," she murmured. "Just... taking it all in."

Ryan smirked, resting his forearm on the railing. "Didn’t take you for the sentimental type."

Ava scoffed. "I’m not."

Ryan arched a brow. "Mmm. Sure."

She rolled her eyes, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she turned her attention back to the city, letting the moment settle around them.

Ryan watched her for a long moment before he took off his suit jacket. Without a word, he draped it over her shoulders, the warmth of the fabric and his scent—woodsy, clean, unmistakably him—enveloping her.

Ava blinked up at him. "What are you doing?"

Ryan shrugged. "You’re cold."

"I’m fine," she started, but Ryan simply gave her a look. The one that said Don’t argue, Matchmaker.

Ava huffed but didn’t push the jacket off. She tugged it around her instead, letting the warmth sink into her skin.

Ryan smirked. "See? Not so bad."

Ava ignored him, but there was a small, traitorous smile tugging at her lips.

They stood there in comfortable silence, the city stretching before them, the buzz of the gala fading into the background.

Ryan tapped the railing lightly with his fingers before glancing at her again. "You ever think about what comes next?"

Ava turned to him, curious. "What do you mean?"

Ryan shrugged, but there was something more thoughtful in his expression. "This competition. Your business. Us."

Ava’s breath hitched slightly at the last word. Us.

She swallowed, feeling the weight of it settle between them. "I don’t know," she admitted. "Paris feels... different. Like it’s shifting things."

Ryan nodded, as if he understood perfectly. "Yeah," he said, his voice quieter now. "It does."

Ava hesitated before finally asking, "And what about you? What comes next for you?"

Ryan turned to face her fully, his fingers grazing the railing, his gaze locked onto hers. "You," he said simply.

Ava’s heart skipped a beat.

She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Ryan reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering for just a second longer than necessary.

"You always overthink," he murmured, his thumb trailing lightly along her cheek.

Ava barely breathed. "And you don’t think enough."

Ryan smirked. "Guess that makes us a perfect match, huh?"

She should’ve rolled her eyes, should’ve swatted him away—but she didn’t. Instead, she just... let herself exist in the moment.

The tension between them thickened, humming between them like an unspoken promise.

Ryan leaned in slightly, his lips hovering near hers, waiting. He didn’t push. He didn’t rush.

He was waiting for her.

Ava closed the distance.

It wasn’t dramatic or rushed. It was slow, deliberate, a soft brush of lips that sent a thrill through her entire body.

Ryan let out a quiet hum of approval, his hand coming up to cradle the side of her face, tilting her toward him as he deepened the kiss just slightly.

Ava melted into it, into him, into everything about this moment that felt so undeniably right.

When they finally pulled apart, neither of them moved away.

Ryan’s forehead rested lightly against hers, his breath warm against her skin. "Took you long enough," he murmured, his lips curling into a smirk.

Ava let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head. "Shut up."

Ryan chuckled, but instead of teasing her further, he pressed a lingering kiss to her temple before pulling her against him, tucking her into his chest.

And for once, Ava didn’t overthink it.

She just let herself stay there, wrapped in Ryan’s warmth, wrapped in this moment, wrapped in him.

Paris had changed everything.

And maybe, just maybe, Ava was finally ready for it.