Ava had been lulled into a false sense of security. Her life was, for once, starting to feel like it was under control. Her relationship with Ryan—if one could officially call their sarcastic banter and occasional stolen kisses a "relationship"—was something she wasn't overthinking (a minor miracle). Mei hadn't orchestrated any outrageous matchmaking schemes in weeks. And business at the tea shop-slash-office was booming.
But Ava should have known better. Peace was always just the calm before Mei's next storm.
Ava was halfway through reorganizing the tea tins (again) when she caught sight of the mob of cameras outside the shop. Flashes went off like fireworks, and reporters jostled for position, shouting unintelligible questions through the glass door.
"Why are there paparazzi outside the tea shop?" Ava asked, glancing at Ryan, who was lounging at her desk and flipping through client files.