Chapter 41: The Matchmaker’s Duel

Ava had been ready to call the gala a success—or, at the very least, a tolerable level of disaster—when Ethan, in his trademark overconfident fashion, grabbed the microphone and made an announcement that turned her stomach into a freefall.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Ethan began, his grin wide enough to rival the Cheshire Cat’s, "to close out this extraordinary evening, we’ve decided to add a little excitement to the program."

Ava froze mid-step, her champagne glass hovering inches from her lips. "What is he doing now?"

Ryan, who had been trailing her with his usual air of amused detachment, groaned softly. "Whatever it is, I already know I’m going to hate it."

Ethan, oblivious to the growing sense of dread rippling through Ava, continued, "As you all know, matchmaking isn’t just about intuition or algorithms. It’s about courage, creativity, and—most importantly—competition. Which is why Ava Lee and I have decided to close out this evening with a friendly duel!"

Ava choked on her sip of champagne. "We what?"

The crowd buzzed with excitement, cameras flashing and murmurs spreading like wildfire. Ethan basked in the attention, looking far too pleased with himself.

"That’s right!" he crowed. "Two wildcard clients. One matchmaker each. One chance to create the perfect connection. And the best part? You, the audience, will decide who wins!"

Ava’s heels clicked loudly against the polished floor as she stormed toward the stage, dragging a very reluctant Ryan in her wake. "I never agreed to this!" she hissed, the edges of her frustration sharp enough to cut glass.

"Oh, come now," Ethan said, handing her the microphone with a mock-innocent smile. "Don’t be a spoilsport. The people love a little drama."

"You’re out of your mind," Ava snapped, her voice low enough to keep the audience from overhearing. "This is a gala, not a reality show."

Ethan’s smile didn’t waver. "And yet, here we are."

Before she could tear into him further, Mei appeared at her side, sipping a martini and looking positively gleeful. "He’s got a point, dear," she said, eyes twinkling with mischief.

Ava shot her grandmother a look of pure betrayal. "Grandma, not now."

"If you back out, it’ll look bad," Mei said in a singsong voice. "And you’re not a quitter, are you?"

Ava gritted her teeth, glaring at Ethan with all the intensity of someone imagining his head as a dartboard. "Fine," she said finally, her voice dripping with reluctant venom. "I’ll do it. But only because I have no choice."

"That’s the spirit," Ethan said, clapping his hands together.

Ryan leaned down, whispering in her ear, "Do you want me to trip him into the punch bowl? Just say the word."

"Tempting," Ava muttered. "Very tempting."

---

A few minutes later, Ethan and Ava stood at opposite sides of the ballroom as Mei dramatically introduced the wildcard clients. On Ava’s side was Hazel, a petite and introverted painter who seemed like she was calculating the fastest way to exit the room. She clutched her sketchbook like it was her only source of oxygen, her gaze fixed on the floor.

Jake, meanwhile, was the human equivalent of an energy drink. The adrenaline junkie entrepreneur barely stood still long enough for Ethan to shake his hand. He was already scanning the room, his eyes lighting up at the sight of potential thrills—a high ceiling he could climb, a precariously balanced sculpture, and, of course, the mechanical bull in the corner.

"I can work with this," Ethan said confidently, clapping Jake on the back as if he were a coach preparing his star athlete for the championship game.

Ava folded her arms, studying Hazel. "I’ve got this," she muttered, though deep down, she wondered how on earth she was supposed to create a connection between someone whose idea of adventure was trying a new shade of blue and someone who probably skydived to work.

"Let the matchmaking duel begin!" Ethan called dramatically, and the crowd broke into applause. Mei beamed like a proud director about to watch her production spiral into glorious chaos.

---

The trouble started the moment Jake spotted the mechanical bull.

"Hazel!" Jake exclaimed, grabbing her hand like an overenthusiastic game show host. "We have to ride the bull. It’ll be amazing."

Hazel froze like a deer in headlights. "I... I don’t think—"

"Come on!" Jake interrupted, dragging her toward the bull with the kind of enthusiasm that ignored all social cues and personal boundaries.

Ava immediately stepped into action, weaving through the crowd in her heels. "Wait! Let’s talk about this!" she called, her voice rising above the chatter of the room.

By the time she reached the mechanical bull, Jake was already climbing on, looking far too comfortable as he gave the crowd a thumbs-up. Hazel stood a few feet away, clutching her sketchbook tighter and shaking her head so fast it was a miracle it didn’t fly off.

"This is a disaster," Ava muttered under her breath.

"No kidding," Ryan said, suddenly appearing at her side. He sipped a drink like he was watching the world’s most entertaining circus.

"Do you always show up when things are about to go wrong?" Ava asked, shooting him a glare.

"It’s my superpower," Ryan replied, smirking. "Also, I had to see this for myself."

Before Ava could formulate a plan to talk Jake off the bull—or at least prevent Hazel from passing out—Jake waved Hazel over. "Come on, it’s fun! You’ll love it!" he called, gesturing for her to join him.

Hazel, now pale as a sheet, managed to squeak out, "Nope. Nope. Nope."

Ava stepped forward, ready to intervene, but Ryan stopped her with a hand on her arm. "Hang on," he said, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Ryan, what are you—"

But Ryan was already climbing onto the mechanical bull, the crowd erupting into laughter and cheers as the typically composed lawyer awkwardly swung a leg over the saddle.

"Ryan!" Ava yelled, torn between horror and amusement. "What are you doing?"

"Saving the day," Ryan called back, flashing her a cocky grin as the bull began to lurch forward.

The bull jerked wildly, and Ryan’s usual air of confidence quickly dissolved into desperate determination. He clung to the saddle like his life depended on it, his expression a mix of terror and "I meant to do this."

The crowd went wild, cheering him on as the bull bucked harder.

"This is humiliating," Ava groaned, covering her face with her hands.

"Relax," Mei said, appearing out of nowhere with a martini in hand. "He’s doing great!"

"Great?" Ava said, pointing at Ryan, who was now sliding sideways on the bull, flailing in a desperate attempt to regain his balance. "He’s about to—"

Before she could finish, the inevitable happened. The bull gave one final, powerful jerk, and Ryan was launched into the air like a ragdoll.

---

Time seemed to slow as Ryan soared through the air, his arms flailing. The crowd gasped in unison, their heads tilting upward as if they were watching the world’s most awkward ballet.

Ava could only watch in horror as he crash-landed directly onto the gala’s dessert table. Plates shattered, éclairs flew, and a three-tier chocolate cake exploded on impact, covering Ryan in an avalanche of frosting and ganache.

The room fell silent, the sound of dripping chocolate the only thing breaking the stillness.

Then, as if on cue, Mei clapped her hands together. "Ten out of ten!" she declared, raising her martini in a toast.

The room erupted into applause and laughter. Someone shouted, "Encore!" while another voice yelled, "Save the cheesecake!"

Ava pushed through the onlookers and knelt beside Ryan, who was groaning amid the wreckage. His face was smeared with frosting, and a lone macaron was perched precariously on his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Ava asked, torn between genuine concern and the overwhelming urge to laugh.

Ryan sat up slowly, wincing. "I think I just discovered a new level of embarrassment."

"You didn’t have much to begin with," Ava teased, offering him a hand.

He took it, grinning despite the frosting dripping off his hair. "You’re lucky I like you."

Ava’s cheeks flushed, but before she could respond, Ethan strolled over, his smirk firmly in place.

---

"Well, that was... memorable," Ethan said, his tone dripping with condescension as he surveyed the dessert carnage.

"Back off, Ethan," Ava snapped, stepping protectively in front of Ryan.

Ethan raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "Interesting. You seem awfully... defensive."

Ava’s jaw tightened. "Ryan isn’t derailing anything. In fact, he’s the only reason this gala hasn’t turned into a total disaster."

"Is that so?" Ethan said, his voice laced with mock curiosity. "It almost sounds like you’re... emotionally invested."

Ava’s cheeks flushed even deeper. "Of course I’m invested. He’s—he’s more than just my business partner."

The words hung in the air, louder than she intended.

Ryan, still covered in frosting, froze. "What?"

Ava hesitated, avoiding his gaze. "I mean... you’re—you’re important to me. That’s all."

Ryan’s expression shifted, and for a moment, he looked... hurt. "Thanks," he said quietly, brushing past her and disappearing into the crowd.

"Ryan, wait!" Ava called, but he didn’t turn around.

Ethan watched the exchange with an infuriatingly smug smile. "Well, that was enlightening."

Ava shot him a glare that could have melted steel. "Don’t push me, Ethan."

---

The night ended with Ethan declared the winner of the matchmaking duel, thanks to some conveniently placed votes from his fan club. Hazel and Jake, meanwhile, had retreated to opposite corners of the room—Hazel sketching furiously in her notebook and Jake chatting animatedly about base-jumping with an unsuspecting bartender.

As the crowd began to disperse, Mei approached Ava, her expression unusually soft. "Winning isn’t everything, you know," she said, her voice low.

Ava sighed, glancing toward Ethan, who was basking in his hollow victory. "Tell that to him."

Mei smiled knowingly. "The competition doesn’t matter, Ava. What matters is what you’re willing to fight for."

Ava frowned, her grandmother’s words sinking in. For the first time all night, she realized the real problem wasn’t the matchmaking competition or even Ethan’s manipulations.

The problem was her own fear of admitting what—or who—she really wanted.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by Aunomay Read