Matchmaker Mayhem

The Sakura Grand Hotel had never looked more decadent.

Every corner of the ballroom shimmered beneath the soft, golden light of suspended crystal chandeliers. Silk-draped tables ringed the marble floor, each centerpiece a delicate sculpture of red camellias and white orchids. Waitstaff moved with practiced elegance, balancing silver trays of champagne flutes and hand-rolled sushi, while a jazz quartet played a playful, romantic melody from the corner of the room.

Ava stood just off-stage, cue cards in one hand, the other smoothing invisible wrinkles from her satin gown. The rich emerald color popped against her skin, the subtle sparkle of the neckline catching the light with every shift of her body. She was all grace and poise on the outside—but internally? Chaos.

"I can’t believe I let Mei talk me into this," she muttered.

Behind her, Ryan stepped up, his presence always felt before it was seen. His tuxedo jacket was open, sleeves rolled just enough to hint at rebellion, and his tie hung loose like he’d dared to be both formal and roguish all at once. "Let me guess," he said, voice low and amused, "this was described to you as an elegant charity event?"

Ava scowled. "With ’light matchmaking elements.’"

Ryan’s lips quirked into a grin. "And now it’s a glorified bachelor auction."

"It’s for charity!" she defended, but she wasn’t fooling either of them.

The premise was deceptively simple: every matchmaking contestant had to design and present a curated "date package" featuring one of their matched couples. The guests—Tokyo elites, socialites, influencers, and matchmaker groupies—would bid on the date that most appealed to them. All proceeds would go toward a local nonprofit that supported newlyweds and marriage counseling programs.

It had sounded cute in theory.

In execution?