章節 18: Chapter 17: Disaster Date - Hunter vs. Vegan 2.0

If Ava had known how the evening would end, she would've shown up to the cooking class wearing full body armor. Instead, she was in a crisp white blouse—her professional problem-solver uniform—and standing between a scowling vegan and a hunter cradling a cooler of raw venison like it was a beloved pet.

"Let's all take a deep breath," Ava said, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. "We're here to make connections, not—uh—conflict, okay?"

The vegan, Tara, crossed her arms. "I can't believe you thought he was my match. Do you know what he has in that cooler? It's murder."

"It's dinner," the hunter, Chad, shot back. "I don't see you complaining about the cucumbers you murdered for your salad."

Tara gasped. "Cucumbers don't have faces, Chad!"

Chad rolled his eyes. "Neither does this venison. It's already dead."

Ava clapped her hands, stepping between them. "Okay! Let's all focus on the cooking class, shall we? Maybe food can bring us together. Isn't that exciting?" She sounded desperate, even to herself.

Both of them glared at her, and for the first time that day, Ava wondered if Mei's advice to send them to a cooking class had been a bad idea.

---

The Cooking Class Begins

The instructor, Chef Paolo, was a tall, lanky man with a thick Italian accent and the energy of someone who had definitely not signed up for this kind of chaos. He clapped his hands and addressed the group of mismatched couples.

"Welcome! Tonight, we will create love through food. Cooking is about passion, about connection, about—"

"About not murdering animals!" Tara interrupted, shooting a glare at Chad.

Chef Paolo faltered. "Ah… well… perhaps we start with the basics, yes? You will pair up and make ravioli from scratch. It is delicate, but rewarding."

"Perfect," Tara said, pulling a plastic bag from her tote. "I brought my organic tofu to use as a filling."

Chad snorted. "Tofu in ravioli? That's sacrilege."

"Oh, and venison isn't?" Tara snapped.

Chad slammed his cooler onto the table. "This venison is free-range, sustainably hunted, and processed with respect."

"And do you chant over it to cleanse your aura before you eat it?" Tara retorted.

"Guys," Ava said, holding up her hands. "Let's focus on the ravioli."

Chef Paolo nodded nervously. "Yes, yes. Ravioli! Now, everyone knead your dough."

Chad grabbed a rolling pin with the determination of someone about to win a bar fight, while Tara angrily mashed her tofu in a bowl. Ava began to relax. Maybe—just maybe—they'd channel their rage into productive pasta-making.

That illusion shattered three minutes later when Chad turned and smirked.

"You know what would go great with this dough?" he said, waving a venison steak in Tara's face.

---

The Chaos Escalates

Tara recoiled like he'd thrown acid at her. "Get that carcass away from me!"

"It's not a carcass; it's protein," Chad said, clearly enjoying her reaction.

"It's disgusting!" Tara grabbed a handful of flour and threw it at him.

The flour hit Chad square in the face, turning him into a ghostly version of himself. He blinked, then grinned wickedly. "Oh, you're gonna regret that."

Before Ava could intervene, Chad grabbed a handful of marinara sauce from a nearby bowl and flung it at Tara, splattering her sweater in bright red streaks.

Tara let out a shriek that could've shattered glass. "You man-child!" she yelled, grabbing the tofu bowl and launching it at Chad's head.

The tofu missed Chad and hit Chef Paolo, who dropped his rolling pin with a startled yelp.

"No!" Chef Paolo cried. "Not the tofu! Not my kitchen!"

Ava lunged forward. "Guys, stop! This isn't—"

She didn't get to finish, because Tara grabbed another handful of flour and aimed it at Chad, who ducked. The flour hit Ava square in the face, coating her in a thick white cloud.

She froze, blinking through the flour. "Okay," she said calmly, wiping her eyes. "This is fine. This is salvageable."

---

Ryan Arrives to Help (Sort Of)

At that exact moment, the door opened, and Ryan strolled in, taking in the scene with an amused expression. Ava, covered in flour, turned to glare at him.

"Why are you here?" she snapped.

"I got a text from Mei saying you might need backup," Ryan said, crossing his arms. "But honestly, I'm tempted to just grab some popcorn and watch the show."

"This is not a show," Ava hissed.

Ryan smirked. "Looks like one. Ten bucks says tofu girl lands the next hit."

"Ryan—"

Tara cut her off with a furious yell. "I've had enough of you, Chad!"

She grabbed the marinara bowl and hurled it, but Chad ducked again, and the bowl sailed past him—straight into Ava's chest.

Ava stood there, drenched in marinara, as silence fell over the room. Even Chad and Tara looked sheepish.

Ryan, meanwhile, grinned and started slow-clapping.

"Well, that's a ten out of ten for aim," he said. "But only a six for execution. You really want to throw from the shoulder next time."

Ava shot him a look that could've melted steel. "If you're not going to help, leave."

"Oh, I'm helping," Ryan said, stepping forward. "Watch." He turned to Tara and Chad. "Alright, gladiators. Why don't we take a break before someone throws the stove?"

Tara and Chad both opened their mouths to argue, but Ryan raised a hand. "Nope. Break time. Chef Paolo, where's the wine?"

Chef Paolo, still holding a now-empty tofu bowl, pointed to a table in the corner.

Ryan grabbed two glasses of wine, handed them to Tara and Chad, and said, "Drink. Breathe. Then we'll talk about why you two are definitely not a match."

---

Ava spent the next twenty minutes cleaning marinara out of her hair while Ryan sat with Tara and Chad, mediating what could only be described as the most hostile peace treaty in dating history.

When they finally left—Tara still muttering about murder, Chad cradling his cooler protectively—Ava collapsed into a chair and glared at Ryan.

"Well," he said, smirking. "That went well."

Ava groaned. "I hate you."

"No, you don't," Ryan said, leaning casually against the counter. "But you do hate losing. Let me guess—this was one of your algorithm matches?"

Ava nodded reluctantly.

Ryan tilted his head. "Interesting. It's almost like you need a human touch to make this work."

Ava narrowed her eyes. "Don't start."

"I'm just saying," Ryan said, grinning. "You might be better off listening to your gut. Or, you know, me."

"Out," Ava said, pointing to the door.

Ryan laughed as he left, and Ava slumped back in her chair, muttering under her breath. She had a feeling Mei was behind this. And if Ethan was involved too?

This wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

---

Confrontation: Ava vs. Mei and Ethan

Ava stormed into her office, her white blouse now a tragic mosaic of marinara sauce, flour streaks, and a faint smear of tofu. She dropped her bag onto the couch with a loud thud and marched toward Mei's desk, where her grandmother sat serenely sipping tea as if she hadn't just orchestrated a culinary war zone.

"You," Ava growled, pointing an accusatory finger at Mei. "You're behind this. Don't even try to deny it."

Mei looked up, her expression the picture of innocence. "Behind what, dear?"

"The cooking class!" Ava shouted, flinging her arms wide. "The vegan and the hunter? Together? You practically handed them weapons and said, 'Fight to the death.'" She gestured wildly at her stained blouse. "Do you see this? This is not what successful matchmaking looks like."

Mei tilted her head thoughtfully. "I think marinara brings out the warmth in your complexion."

Ava let out a strangled noise and dropped into the chair across from Mei's desk. "Why, Grandma? Why would you suggest that pairing? They were a disaster waiting to happen!"

Mei sipped her tea and set the cup down gently. "Sometimes, you need a little chaos to see the truth."

"What truth?!" Ava cried. "That they hate each other? Mission accomplished."

Mei leaned forward, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "No, dear. The truth about your methods."

Ava blinked. "My methods? What's wrong with my methods?"

Before Mei could respond, the office door swung open, and Ethan Chase sauntered in like he owned the place. His perfectly tailored suit was annoyingly pristine, and his infuriatingly smug grin was firmly in place.

"Oh good, you're both here," Ethan said, casually leaning against the doorframe. "I was hoping to have a little chat about tonight's… debacle."

Ava groaned. "Of course you're involved. Did you bring popcorn to enjoy the show, or were you just here to gloat?"

Ethan raised his hands in mock surrender. "I'm just here to observe, really. But I have to admit, watching one of your algorithm matches go up in flames was… enlightening."

"Don't act like you didn't have a hand in this," Ava snapped. "I wouldn't be surprised if you gave Chad that cooler full of venison just to stir the pot."

Ethan's grin widened. "I'd love to take credit for that, but alas, I'm innocent this time."

Ava narrowed her eyes. "You knew they'd be a disaster."

"Of course I did," Ethan said, straightening up. "Because your algorithm doesn't account for chemistry. It's all numbers and logic, but people aren't logical. They're emotional, unpredictable. That's why Cupid's Algorithm is superior. We use science and psychology."

"Oh, please," Ava said, standing up and crossing her arms. "You're just mad because you can't compete with actual intuition."

"Intuition?" Ethan laughed. "Is that what you're calling this? Because from where I'm standing, your intuition just started a food fight."

"I wasn't the one throwing tofu!" Ava shot back.

"Children," Mei interrupted, her voice calm but commanding. "Stop bickering and listen."

Both Ava and Ethan froze, turning to look at her. Mei rarely used her serious voice, and when she did, it was usually followed by something cryptic and vaguely unsettling.

"This wasn't about the vegan or the hunter," Mei said, folding her hands on the desk. "It was about you, Ava."

Ava frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Mei sighed. "You're so focused on proving that your algorithm works, you've forgotten what makes matchmaking special. It's not about being perfect. It's about being human. And sometimes, humans need a little chaos to find their way."

Ava stared at her. "Are you seriously telling me that pairing a vegan and a hunter in a cooking class was… a lesson for me?"

Mei smiled faintly. "Exactly."

Ethan, still leaning against the doorframe, smirked. "You know, she has a point. Maybe you should take notes."

Ava whirled on him. "And you. Why are you even here? Don't you have a flashy PR stunt to plan?"

"Actually," Ethan said, pulling a file out of his bag, "I came to discuss the matchmaking challenge. Trina from Morning Brew called. She wants an update on our progress."

Ava groaned, collapsing back into her chair. "I can't believe I agreed to this."

"Oh, but you did," Ethan said, his grin widening. "And I, for one, can't wait to see how your next match turns out. Hopefully, it'll involve less… marinara."

Ava glared at him. "Don't you have a building to glitter-bomb?"

Ethan laughed. "I'll leave you to clean up this mess. Literally." He glanced at her stained blouse. "Good luck, Ava. You're going to need it." With that, he strolled out, humming to himself.

---

Once Ethan was gone, Ava slumped forward, resting her forehead on Mei's desk. "Grandma, he's the worst. Why do you insist on encouraging him?"

Mei chuckled. "Oh, Ethan has his flaws, but he's not your enemy, dear."

"Could've fooled me," Ava muttered. "He's out to ruin my career."

"No," Mei said, her tone softening. "He's here to challenge you. And challenges make us grow."

Ava lifted her head, frowning. "Is this another one of your riddles?"

Mei smiled, reaching across the desk to pat her hand. "You'll understand eventually. But for now, you should focus on what's important."

"Which is what?" Ava asked.

Mei's smile widened. "Cleaning the marinara out of your hair."

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