Matchmaker Mayhem

If Ava had a nickel for every client who claimed they were "serious about finding love" but secretly treated dating like a contact sport, she'd be able to retire in the Maldives by now.

Today's client was no different.

If there was a Hall of Fame for romantic chaos, Jasmine Duval would've been inducted years ago.

"She's matched with thirty-four people," Kelly said, peering over Ava's shoulder at the client file. "From six different matchmaking services. Including one called 'Soulmate Safari,' which specializes in couples who want to honeymoon in the Serengeti."

Ava frowned, flipping through the stack of forms. "Thirty-four? How is that even possible? Does she speed-date after the dates?"

"She's efficient, I guess," Kelly said with a shrug. "Anyway, she's here. I put her in the lounge."

Ava sighed, closing the file. "Perfect. Let me just grab my emotional armor."

When Ava stepped into the lounge, she was met with the force of nature that was Jasmine Duval. Late twenties, gorgeous, and dressed in an outfit that could've been plucked from a Pinterest board titled Effortlessly Chic, Jasmine was the kind of woman who turned heads just by walking into a room.

"I'm so excited to work with you," Jasmine said, flashing a dazzling smile. "You're, like, my last hope. Everyone says you're amazing."

"That's… flattering," Ava replied, taking a seat across from her. "Let's start with why you think things haven't worked out with the other services."

"Oh, that's easy." Jasmine waved a perfectly manicured hand. "It's not me. It's the matches. None of them meet my standards."

"Standards?" Ava raised an eyebrow. "Can you give me an example?"

Ava sat across from Jasmine in the lounge, notebook in hand, doing her best to maintain a neutral expression as Jasmine rattled off a greatest hits reel of her disastrous dates. It was like watching a train wreck in slow motion—horrifying, yet impossible to look away.

"So, there was this one guy," Jasmine began, waving a hand dramatically. "He showed up in a Hawaiian shirt. Unironically."

Ava blinked. "What was wrong with that?"

"What was—?" Jasmine clutched her chest like Ava had just suggested eating soup with a fork. "It was dinner at a rooftop bar! A Hawaiian shirt? At night? What kind of message does that send?"

"That he's laid-back?" Ava ventured.

"That he's colorblind," Jasmine shot back. "Next."

She flipped her hair over her shoulder and leaned forward. "Then there was the guy who took me to a seafood restaurant. He spent half an hour explaining the life cycle of lobsters. Did you know they molt? Like, their shells just… fall off. While they're alive."

Ava bit back a smile. "So… he was interesting?"

"He was a horror show!" Jasmine exclaimed. "Every time I looked at my lobster roll, I could hear his voice narrating its tragic backstory."

---

The Pet Situation

"And don't even get me started on the guy with the cat," Jasmine continued, her voice dripping with indignation.

"Let me guess," Ava said dryly, "you're allergic?"

"Worse," Jasmine said. "He brought the cat. To the date."

Ava blinked. "To the date?"

"Into the restaurant," Jasmine clarified. "It sat on the table. In a sweater."

"You're making this up," Ava said, struggling to keep a straight face.

"I wish I were," Jasmine said. "And when I said, 'Hey, maybe the cat should sit in a carrier,' he got all offended and said, 'Mittens is a free spirit.'" She shuddered. "I left before dessert."

---

The Suitcase Incident

"Oh, and then there was the guy who was moving apartments," Jasmine said, her eyes narrowing. "He picked me up in a U-Haul. A U-Haul, Ava. For a first date."

Ava blinked. "That sounds… practical?"

Jasmine snorted. "He stopped mid-date to pick up a couch from Craigslist. I had to sit on it. In the back of the U-Haul. Like some kind of… furniture hostage."

Ava covered her mouth to keep from laughing but failed miserably. "Okay, that's… that's bad."

Jasmine threw her hands in the air. "Do you see what I'm dealing with? This is why I need you. I can't take another disaster."

---

The Cafe Coaching Session

Ava spent the next day trying to figure out how to help Jasmine without losing her sanity. Ultimately, she decided that a dose of brutal honesty—courtesy of Ryan—was exactly what Jasmine needed.

Ryan arrived at the café five minutes late, carrying his usual black coffee and looking far too smug for Ava's liking. Jasmine was already seated, scrolling through her phone.

"Let me guess," Ryan said as he sat down. "You've already ghosted three guys before finishing that latte."

Jasmine looked up, frowning. "Excuse me?"

"Just a hunch," Ryan said casually. "You seem like the type who knows what she doesn't want but has no idea what she actually wants."

Ava's eyes widened. "Ryan—"

"No, let him talk," Jasmine said, crossing her arms. "Go ahead. Diagnose me, Dr. Doom."

"Gladly," Ryan said, leaning forward. "You treat dating like it's a job interview. Everyone's under constant scrutiny, but instead of looking for their strengths, you focus on their flaws. Hawaiian shirt? Fired. Cat sweater? Fired. U-Haul? Fired. You're not looking for a partner. You're looking for a mannequin who checks all your boxes."

Jasmine's jaw dropped. "I do not—"

"Thirty-four matches say otherwise," Ryan interrupted. "The problem isn't them, Jasmine. It's you."

---

"I have high standards," Jasmine said defensively. "There's nothing wrong with knowing what I want."

"There's a difference between standards and nitpicking," Ryan countered. "You're so focused on finding someone who's perfect on paper that you don't give people a chance to be imperfect in real life. Love doesn't work that way."

"Easy for you to say," Jasmine shot back. "You're a divorce lawyer. What do you know about love?"

"Enough to know what kills it," Ryan said, his voice quieter now. "And it's exactly what you're doing—setting people up to fail because you're afraid of getting hurt."

---

The words hung in the air for a moment, and Ava glanced at Jasmine, half-expecting her to storm out. Instead, Jasmine stared at her latte, her expression softening.

"You think I'm afraid?" she asked, almost to herself.

Ryan nodded. "Yeah. You've built this wall of impossible standards to protect yourself. And I get it. But the thing is, love isn't perfect. It's messy, it's awkward, and yeah, sometimes it involves lobster life cycles or U-Hauls. The question is, are you willing to risk the mess to find something real?"

For the first time since Ava had met her, Jasmine was speechless.

---

As Jasmine left the café, promising to "think about things," Ava turned to Ryan.

"That was… surprisingly insightful," she admitted.

Ryan smirked. "Told you. I'm good at my job."

"You also called her a mannequin," Ava pointed out.

"She needed to hear it," Ryan said, standing up and grabbing his coffee. "You know, you should try listening to me sometime. I might be able to fix you too."

Ava snorted. "Don't push your luck, Ryan."

As he walked away, Ava found herself smiling despite her better judgment.