Matchmaker Mayhem
Chapter 92: Mei’s Secret Weapon—Gala Espionage Edition

Chapter 92: Mei’s Secret Weapon—Gala Espionage Edition

The morning after the gala, Ava woke up to the unmistakable sound of Mei whispering in what could only be described as a "dramatic espionage tone."

Still half-asleep, she groaned, turning toward Ryan, who—like a normal person—was still buried under the covers.

But Mei’s voice carried.

"Phase one is complete."

Ava’s brows furrowed. What?

She peeked out from under the blanket to see Mei sitting cross-legged on the armchair near the window, holding a clipboard.

A clipboard.

"Mei..." Ava’s voice was hoarse from sleep. "What the hell are you doing?"

Mei gasped, eyes wide. "Oh, you’re awake! Perfect timing."

Ryan let out a sleepy groan beside her. "Why is she talking?"

Mei waved them both off and gestured dramatically to Harold, who was sitting on the couch—wearing sunglasses indoors and sipping a cup of coffee like some kind of mafia informant.

Ava sat up instantly. "Okay, what are you two up to?"

Harold adjusted his sunglasses and lowered his voice. "We’re spies now."

Ava blinked.

Ryan, barely lifting his head from the pillow, muttered into the mattress, "Of course we are."

Mei clapped her hands. "Not spies—intel gatherers."

Ava groaned. "Oh, for the love of—Mei, this is not a war."

Mei smirked. "It is when Julian Ashcroft is involved."

Ava rubbed her temples, fully awake now. "Okay. Fine. What exactly are we gathering intel on?"

Mei grinned like she had just discovered fire.

"Julian’s assistants."

Ryan, now somewhat conscious, lifted his head. "What about them?"

Mei leaned in conspiratorially. "I had a very enlightening conversation last night."

Harold nodded solemnly. "She stole a bottle of champagne and worked the room like a mob boss."

Ava gave Mei a long, exasperated stare.

Mei shrugged innocently. "What? I was charming."

Ryan sat up fully now, his sleep-deprived face staring at Ava. "Please tell me she’s exaggerating."

Ava sighed. "She’s never exaggerating."

Mei beamed.

"Anyway," she continued, flipping a page on her clipboard, "I’ve compiled a list of Julian’s employees—specifically, the ones who seem ready to mutiny."

Ava’s exhaustion vanished. "Wait, seriously?"

Mei nodded, looking smug. "Oh, honey. You have no idea."

---

The Gala, The Night Before

While Ava and Ryan were busy dancing into oblivion, Mei was on a mission.

And Harold? Harold was simply trying to make sure Mei didn’t get them banned from yet another high-profile event.

The L’Amour Élite Grand Gala was a glittering spectacle—Parisian chandeliers, gilded décor, classical music softly playing in the background.

Everyone was drinking expensive champagne and pretending to like Julian.

Mei, however, was not pretending.

She was hunting.

With a stolen flute of champagne in one hand and a dangerously confident smirk, she set her sights on Julian’s staff.

Harold, already regretting life choices, hurried after her. "Mei, for the love of all things croissant-related, please don’t start an incident."

Mei waved him off. "I am simply socializing."

Harold sighed. "That’s what you said before the ’Lobster Incident’ at the Venice gala."

Mei ignored him. She had bigger things to focus on. Like espionage.

And Julian’s assistant, Simone, was her first target.

---

Step 1: Befriend the Overworked Assistant

Simone was standing by the dessert table, glaring at a pyramid of macarons like they had personally wronged her.

Mei sidled up beside her, offering a sympathetic smile. "Long night?"

Simone scoffed. "Long year."

Mei nodded solemnly. "Julian?"

Simone snorted. "Who else?"

Bingo.

Mei casually picked up a macaron. "Let me guess—he’s making you redo things for no reason?"

Simone let out a frustrated groan. "He changes his mind every five seconds! First, the algorithm was perfect. Then, suddenly, ’It needs to be more dynamic, Simone!’ Then, ’Scrap the updates, Simone!’ Then, ’We’re launching a new version tomorrow, Simone!’"

Mei nodded sympathetically.

Harold, standing behind Mei, whispered nervously, "Mei, are we manipulating people?"

Mei grinned. "Harold, we are gathering intel."

Simone, too caught up in her rant, didn’t even notice.

"You know what I did yesterday?" Simone continued, stabbing a fork into a pastry. "I spent seven hours debugging code for an update Julian won’t even use. Do you know what Julian was doing?"

Mei smirked. "Glaring at people while standing under dramatic lighting?"

Simone slammed her fork down. "Exactly."

Harold, now eating stress macarons, whispered, "Oh no, she’s bonding."

Mei placed a comforting hand on Simone’s shoulder. "You deserve better."

Simone sighed heavily. "You’re damn right, I do."

Mei smiled. Phase one: Complete.

---

Step 2: Secure More Whining—Er, Intel

Next, Mei spotted Eric, Julian’s lead coder, looking like he had aged ten years overnight.

She pounced.

"Eric! Darling!" Mei swept in like an affectionate aunt.

Eric blinked. "Uh...hello?"

Harold, behind her, murmured, "Why do I feel like she’s about to steal his soul?"

Mei looped her arm through Eric’s. "Tell me, dear—how’s work?"

Eric looked dead inside. "I... don’t know what sleep is anymore."

Mei gasped dramatically. "Not sleep! How barbaric!"

Eric let out a hollow laugh. "Julian thinks the algorithm is perfect, but every time I fix something, he adds more changes. And then, when we finally get it running smoothly, he’s like, ’Actually, let’s start over.’"

Mei clutched her chest. "A tragedy."

Eric, apparently eager to get this off his chest, continued, "And now, he’s obsessed with proving it works. He’s convinced that his ’Perfection Pair’ app will replace matchmakers entirely."

Mei arched a brow. "Oh, is he now?"

Harold narrowed his eyes. "Mei. No."

Mei, innocently, sipped her champagne. "What? I’m merely listening."

Eric groaned. "Honestly? If he changes the system one more time, I’m quitting."

Mei patted his arm. "You should, darling. You have so much potential."

Harold, watching in horror, whispered, "We are absolutely spies now."

---

Step 3: Create Just Enough Chaos

By the end of the night, Mei had charmed, comforted, and potentially recruited half of Julian’s team to reconsider their life choices.

Mission? Accomplished.

Harold, still traumatized, whispered, "Are we the villains?"

Mei grinned. "Oh, absolutely not."

Harold hesitated. "Are you sure?"

Mei lifted her stolen champagne flute. "Villains don’t drink champagne this fabulously."

Harold sighed. "That...is not how that works."

---

So, back to the present.

Apparently, during the gala, Mei had wandered around with a flute of stolen champagne, casually sowing seeds of discord among Julian’s staff.

As it turned out, his employees hated him.

Ryan snorted. "Shocking."

Mei flipped through her notes. "For instance, Simone, his personal assistant? She’s considering quitting because Julian keeps making her reformat his spreadsheets at random hours."

Ava arched a brow. "That’s it?"

Mei lifted a finger. "On a Saturday."

Ryan winced. "Oof."

Mei nodded.

"Then there’s Eric, the poor soul in charge of running Julian’s ’Perfection Pair’ algorithm updates. He’s been pulling 16-hour shifts because Julian keeps making last-minute changes to the coding."

Ava frowned. "Wait. That means—"

Mei grinned wickedly. "That means the algorithm isn’t perfect."

Ryan let out a low whistle. "Now that’s interesting."

Mei continued, flipping through more notes. "Oh, and this one’s my favorite—Julian’s event coordinator, Marta? She had a full breakdown because Julian demanded a last-minute venue change for his next big matchmaking demo."

Ava frowned. "Why?"

Mei snorted. "Because, and I quote, ’the lighting wasn’t dramatic enough.’"

Ryan burst out laughing.

Ava, despite herself, smirked. That was peak Julian.

Mei tapped her pen against the clipboard. "So, in summary—Julian’s a tyrant, his team is one coffee spill away from rebellion, and we may or may not be sitting on a gold mine of sabotage material."

Ryan leaned back, arms crossed. "So, what’s the plan, O Great Mastermind?"

Mei grinned. "Simple. We find a way to push them over the edge."

Ava rubbed her face. "This is actual espionage now."

Harold nodded sagely. "We’re deep in the game, boss."

Ryan turned to Ava. "How do you always let this happen?"

Ava sighed. "I stopped resisting years ago."

---

After successfully restraining Mei from immediately storming Julian’s headquarters with a megaphone and a baguette, Ava sat down to think.

Julian was losing control of his own empire. That meant he was desperate—and desperation meant mistakes.

If they played this right, they wouldn’t just beat him in the competition.

They could unravel everything.

Ryan watched Ava, amused. "You’re doing that scheming face."

Ava rolled her eyes. "I do not have a scheming face."

Ryan smirked. "You absolutely do."

Ava ignored him.

Instead, she turned to Mei. "You said Julian’s algorithm is still being modified, right?"

Mei grinned. "Oh, yes. Poor Eric the Coder is barely functioning at this point."

Ava tapped her fingers against the table. "Then all we have to do is wait."

Ryan raised a brow. "Wait for what?"

Ava smiled. "For Julian to sabotage himself."

Mei gasped dramatically. "Oh, I love this plan."

Ryan sighed, exasperated. "Of course you do."

---

Julian, in his arrogance, was convinced his algorithm was the future.

Ava knew better. Love wasn’t predictable.

And if there was one thing Julian couldn’t handle—it was imperfection.

So, Ava decided to test a theory.

If Julian kept tweaking his algorithm, then that meant it wasn’t producing consistent results.

So, what would happen if they subtly encouraged his perfectionist tendencies?

Make him second-guess his own work.

Make him overcorrect.

Make him... implode.

---

The Baguette War (Again)

Of course, before any of this could go into motion, Mei and Harold somehow ended up in another baguette-related altercation.

Ryan, looking deeply unimpressed, leaned against the wall of the café. "Again?"

Ava groaned. "Why is it always baguettes?"

Mei, waving a fresh baguette like a fencing sword, huffed. "He started it."

Harold, equally dramatic, pointed at her. "She’s hoarding the best bread in Paris!"

Ryan exhaled. "I am so tired."

Ava, done with all of them, grabbed the baguette, took a dramatic bite, and walked away.

Mei and Harold stared in horror.

Ryan smirked, looping an arm around Ava’s shoulders. "That’s my girl."

Ava rolled her eyes but didn’t push him away.

"Let’s just get out of here before someone gets arrested."

Mei and Harold, grumbling, followed.

By the time they got back to the apartment, Ava had a full-blown strategy.

Ryan sat beside her on the couch, watching her scribble notes. "Are we really just going to let Julian do the work for us?"

Ava smirked. "No. We’re going to help him do it faster."

Ryan chuckled, pulling her against him. "I like this version of you."

Ava arched a brow. "The diabolical one?"

Ryan grinned. "The confident one."

Ava felt something warm settle in her chest.

She leaned into him.

"I’ve got this," she murmured.

Ryan pressed a kiss to her temple. "I know."

Paris might be a battlefield.

But Ava Lee was ready.