Matchmaker Mayhem

Ava Lee didn’t believe in omens, but if she did, this morning’s burnt bagel would’ve been a neon billboard screaming: DOOM AHEAD.

It had started with her morning coffee run, which quickly turned into a tragic juggling act. She’d balanced her planner, an overflowing tote bag, and a precariously full latte like a contestant in some cosmic reality show. Then came the fateful moment when her bag strap caught the corner of a pastry display.

The result: an explosion of croissants, muffins, and powdered sugar across the café floor.

"Rough morning?" the barista asked, his tone dripping with poorly hidden amusement.

Ava, now dusted in sugar like an overcooked donut, offered him her best I’m-holding-it-together-thank-you-very-much smile. "Just another Tuesday."

The universe wasn’t done with her yet. By the time she made it to her office, her latte had spilled into her tote bag, soaking her client folders. She had exactly two minutes to dry them out before her assistant, Kelly, burst in, phone in hand.

"You’re going viral," Kelly announced, holding the phone aloft like it was the Olympic torch.

Ava blinked, dabbing at the folders with a paper towel. "What do you mean I’m going viral? I haven’t done anything worth—" She narrowed her eyes. "Did that video of me falling into the chocolate fountain resurface again?"

"No, no, it’s not you," Kelly said, biting her lip. "It’s... this guy."

She spun the phone around to reveal a polished man in a perfectly tailored suit, standing on a sleek stage with the words CUPID’S ALGORITHM: LOVE, PERFECTLY PROGRAMMED glowing behind him.

In the video, Ethan Chase was gesturing with the confident swagger of a man who’d never spilled a latte in his life.